Ode to a pussycat

My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains my sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk...

That's from a poem by someone called Keats and that's how I feel. I was sick this morning. I tried to tell she babe but she just laughed and said "No - it's too early!" Then he babe said "What's he doing?" - except he shouted it really because of the earplug he wears so he can't hear himself snore. "He's got my sponge out of my pottery bag and he's throwing it around the room!" Well I was, obviously! But even when I manage to get their attention they don't take any notice!

In the end I went into the back room and was sick by my catflap. It was mostly whole biscuits. I knew she babe would see it there and probably not tread it in. I'm always very thoughtful, even when I have a lot on my mind.

She got up later to feed me but I couldn't eat - and it was my favourite ocean special sachet of bits of fish and jelly stuff too.

I'm lovesick. I can't eat. She babe should know that.

I think I might write a poem... but I'm not going to show it to the babes. They'll just laugh. Sigh.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... and The Waltons : what really went down on that mountain

There are no cats in The Waltons. There's a daft dog called Reckless that just barks a lot, a cow called Chance, a pig called Rover and a racoon called Pete - but no cats. I think the babes should stop watching it and go back to watching Friends. They're only on Series 2 and there are millions of them, and I bet there are no cats in any of them. Something strange must have happened on that mountain and we should be told. At least in Friends there was a cat once that scratched Rachel. It looked more like a roast chicken but it was definitely a cat. And another time Phoebe's grandmother was a cat. Hah!

The Waltons is just so unrealistic; the babes need to get out more.

I've been getting out a lot now that spring is in the air and the bees are starting to head back. I had a girlfriend for a few days last week but now I seem to have lost her. I keep looking but she's just not there. She was completely black, just like me but without all my white bits, she had tiny little paws and pretty eyes; she used to tease me by getting me to chase her under the camellia bush. We had joy, we had fun. Now it's very confusing and it's not fair - I thought she liked me.

I hate my food, the babes hardly ever buy anything I like, and I just want to sleep but they won't let me. I HATE being a teenager. I don't think I'll ever know the meaning of true love and it's all their fault.

I'm going back to bed.