Day 125 in the Big Hooman Household, and I want to go back to live with Auntie Gillian. The big stupid poofy fluff bomb I <thought> was my bezza has just TOTALLY stitched me up.
We were playing about and getting ace cuddles off the hooman and all was groovey doobs, and then while we’re scaling the heights of the raffeta shelving unit, the cinnamon bun says “Hey we can help the hooman with a bit of horticulture! They like to dig up stuff in the spring. Tell you what you go dig up that snake plant down there, and I’ll keep watch so it’s a surprise when the hooman walks in”
Surprise was the right word. There’s me COVERED in soil, thinkin’ she’s gonna be like DEAD chuffed and there’s the bakery item (I can’t bring myself to call him anything more) waddling away like butter wouldn’t melt!!! I was caught with my pelt black! The hooman picks me, grabs Pepper and… and… … HIM, and puts us back in the cage with NO GROOVY OIL!!
Pepper said from the very beginning we shouldn’t trust a bloke with longer fur than us and he was right.
Someone. Please come and get us and take us away from the traitor. I can’t live in these conditions!! :'(
Lots of love and living in hope of a quick rescue, Chili xx
