Paws and I have been debating. She says I think too much: but I can’t help it. I’m smart: always have been. But this time the Hairless One’s gone too far. Poking his nose in my business. Changing things when they’re just how I like.
8am He feeds us. Then again at 6. Thick and meaty – with a nice jelly jus. We used to have great times knocking the bowl over, but He changed it and now we can’t. Same with the door. In the good old days we’d howl and he’d hold it open – now we’ve got our own flap and we have to push it ourselves. Like I say: thinks He’s God just because He owns the place. Acts nicey-nicey: but can’t be trusted.
Last week for example. I got in a fight. They don’t call me Killer McPaw for nothing. (Actually they call me Fluffy, but it’s for protection). Anyway. Bloodied ear and a lump off my coat: came home feeling knackered. All I asked for was a stroke and some Kibbles. May as well have mewed at the ceiling. I’ve spent all day working in Your garden, says I. The least you can do is feed me. But no: that wasn’t enough. Soon as I’d eaten, He scooped me up. Then, He put me in the cage and took me to the Bad Man. No, I shouted. Leave it alone! But instead of helping – He held me down. That’s not the action of a loving Power. It’s a despot. And it got worse. The Bad Man stuck a pin in me, rubbed something on the sore bit and taped it all up. How was I meant to scratch it? Or check I was still bleeding? I specifically asked Him to leave it alone – but as usual, all He did was interfere and hurt me.
Seems to me life’s better without the Hairless One. I keep this garden together and He’s not even grateful.