Dear Me!

    

    Mummy says I must be sick or something.

You see, I absolutely refused a drink from the faucet this morning. Yes – I, Augustus, Water Connoisseur, turned my nose up at a drink or rather, turned my tail up while resituating my hindquarters.

So Mummy insists something is wrong with me.

I am perfectly fine, however.  The concern should be placed not on my refusal to participate in lapping up tap water on demand but rather on Mummy’s apparent failure to note the obvious – viz. that I simply did not need a drink at that moment.

By way of demonstrating her inability to see what is right beneath her nose, when she passed by the sink at a later time (maybe 15 minutes from the first occurrence or incident) with me sitting in plain view, she absolutely refused to give me a drink from the faucet. What was she thinking? I mean to say, she complains that I don’t drink then denies me drink. What sort of nonsense is this? She decides then to blame the whole thing on my alleged “indecision” and “lack of timing”.

It has not occurred to Mummy that she is the one off schedule (perhaps related to her bizarre Changing Of The Clock incident about which we kits merely whisper so as to avoid upsetting Mummy’s internal balance). I say Mummy should be more in tune with the subtle differences in my every day needs and respond accordingly. In short, what one would like to see is less backchat and more timely providing of the old liquid refreshment, based not on Mummy’s whims but rather…on mine!

Simple and easy to remember, I think one would agree. That would settle whole affair nicely, though achieving this goal may take some doing and is not for the faint of heart.

In the meantime, I must continue to assert my personality if I am to accomplish anything like getting a drink in the next 24 hours. So off I go with paws crossed.

Tally ho and all that sort of stuff!