The old man and old woman were running around like headless chickens this morning. I really don't know why...
It all began at about 5am. I was up bright and early and where were they? Under the duvet, snoring, the pair of them. Not even my cold wet nose pressed against their faces managed to wake them. My plaintive meow had no effect, neither did walking all over them.
I left them to it and strolled to the kitchen for breakfast. And, guess what, the darned bowl was empty, not a sniff of my morning meaty chunks.
I stalked around a bit and gave myself a good wash, thinking they'll be up any minute. But, no. The clock ticked around to 6am. Still snoring.
So what's a girl to do? I was so hungry I decided to find my own food. I went into the sitting-room and found three spiders. They're ex-spiders now. They didn't taste bad. Then I found a dead moth and swallowed it down. Then, result, under the sofa was that dried up bit of pork I had been saving for a rainy day and forgotten about. That rainy day has arrived - it went down a treat.
I had a couple of gulps of water to make sure all the ingredients were nicely marinated, waited a few minutes and jumped back on the bed - then puked it all up on the duvet between them.
Miracle of miracles! The sound of me puking woke them up. Cue their headless chicken act as they ran around looking for paper towels and damp cloths.