Friday night I went to the Cat Club in the hopes of seeing that gorgeous She Cat again. I serenaded everyone with my version of Frank Sinatra’s “I did in Meow Way”, which always goes down well.
Then wonder of wonders, I see the She Cat. I plucked up my courage and went to say hello, and ask her if she would like to sing a karaoke duet. She refused but did agree to come over for a bowl of milk on Monday. Then she scampered off. Her name is Pippa, which I think is very very pretty name.
Saturday night I spent exploring the rooftops, and stayed up very late. Sunday I slept all day, on top of a piece of mobile furniture, the Tall things call them cars.