The old woman was complaining to the old man that she was worn out.
"I've been working full time in addition to all my freelance obligations. And I've had housework and gardening to do. I'm tired out and stressed. I'm an old woman now. Blah, blah, blah."
I made up the quote about her being an old woman but she does moan a lot about going into rooms and forgetting what she went in there for. Mercifully, she hasn't yet forgotten my name or to feed me and stroke me. When she does... well, I shall have to take the appropriate action. Not sure what, but I'll think of something.
In any case, I hadn't noticed the garden progressing beyond the stage of slightly tamed jungle and the other day my cat nip toy was not in its box but with all the dust bunnies under the sofa, so I'm not sure how much housework is being done.
Anyway, the old man made suitably sympathetic noises and promised to help her all he could.
So what kind of a week have you had? Mine has been uneventful - the usual round of sleeping, eating, sleeping, eating, brief burst of energy chasing things, sleeping, eating, sleeping, eating.
There was one thing that made me sit up and take notice, though. The old man and the old woman were discussing this:
I was briefly worried. Surely they wouldn't consider trading me in for a younger model, would they? But then they both cuddled me and said: "You're our little stress-buster, aren't you, Toffee?" so I think I've dodged a bullet there. In any case, the old woman would walk into a room with the intention of petting a kitten but then forget what she'd gone in there for. So I think I'm safe. For now.
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