My nemesis

Everywhere I go, I hear it. The endless, gruesome, high-pitched cheeping. Not a moment's peace. I ask you, what have I done to deserve it. Admittedly I ate his mate. And chicks. But what am I meant to do? I'm a formula one cat. I have fuel needs. It isn't easy being a plush stealth cat, you know. Least they didn't go to waste.

I suppose his gran was a bit lacking on the eating front but I did my best. His cousins had almost nothing on them. The in-laws were good though, I enjoyed them. You would think I would get a little gratitude, but no. Just the incessant cheeping. I had my eye on a good plump pigeon yesterday, got myself nicely into position and who should show up and make a racket?

Yes, you guessed it. Captain Jack. The sparrow that never shuts up. At this rate I'll have to resort to eating the oh-so-ironically named Wellbeloved nubbles that the humans seem to think passes for food fit for a stealth cat.