Readers of my blog will know that one of my humans writes with a partner and that their first novel is due out this year. I’m all for a bit of creative activity but I don’t take kindly to being forgotten when she gets her teeth into a bit of juicy rewriting for her editor and leaves nothing for me to chew on, which is what happened today.
It was wet, windy and cold outside so my human got down to an afternoon of writing. I was quite happy at first, enjoying the warmth of the fire and dozing to the background of her tappity tapping on the keyboard.
As it got nearer dinner-time, I got a bit restless but she didn’t appear to notice. I jumped up beside her on the sofa and put my chin on her leg. I didn’t even get told off for jumping on the furniture, just a perfunctory pat on the head.
Time ticked on and I got worried. It was well past my feeding time and my tummy was rumbling. I jumped down, padded round the rug and slumped at her feet with a big sigh. Nothing. No response. Things were getting desperate. All I could think of was meat and biscuits. I knew there was a bit of beef gravy in my bowl just waiting to be topped with crunchy kibble and the thought was driving me crazy.
I was beginning to think I might have to take drastic action – nibbling a plant maybe? Sticking my tongue in the mug on the floor? – when my other human came in and said those magic words: have you fed Whisper?
I can tell you beef gravy and kibble have never tasted so good. Better late than never, but not too often I hope!
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