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Sicky Woo

Apologies for the lack of blogging this past few days, I've been as sick as, well a dog actually. Huey and Rolf are my new best buddies. Think I must have ate some cat shit by mistake, I hate cats the mercenary little buggers. If a dog kept a diary it would go something like this: Monday. Ran round the garden. Great! Chased a few cats. Great! Went for a walk. Fantastic! Played stick. Awesome! Had me tea. Brilliant! Slept on me bean bag. Chillin! What a brilliant day, can't wait for tomorrow. Whereas a cats diary would go like this (probably in a German accent): Monday, day 572 of my captivity. Amused myself by half killing a selection of small rodents and secreting them around the house. Then kept flicking them to get them to move, then catching them again. Ripped open a mouse's chest just because I can. Passed on tea, I'm not eating muck out of a tin. Shit in the corner of the lounge in the hope that it may disgust them enough to free me. Bit the heads off some baby sparrows after their mother had flown off in search of food, tee hee. Watch as Mum returns ditraught and then go on to terrorise a family of door mice that live behind the shed. Pissed on the settee then bed.

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