Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Grass por cads


Eenteresteen'.

More grass.


Ees ber' deeffeecol' to bide.


Bod I try. I try.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Friday, February 24, 2012

My new frien'



OK, ees a larng story. Was sleepeen' the Smoothman an' me worn nigh' y we both waghe orp soddenly because we heear a cad cryeen'.  Ees cole' weenter nighd. Brrrr. Miaow miaow miaow allnighd.  The Smoothman fine' his earplogs. I pud my paws ober my ears.

Neghs morneen' orly he go oud to loogh por cryeencad. He go orp arn the roop y he loogh down ad neghs door terrace. He see the ladygrey cad, she ees lookeen' ad the close' door ob hor apar'men' y miaowing, narnstarp... Dios mio. Then he sees hor brorder, the ornagecad, onder chair.

The Smoothman call the neighbour. She no answer. He go to hor house. Nada. He taghe my food (!!!) y agua an' he lowers eed arnto the terrace ob the cads een two bowls. The two cads ead. He leabes angry message por neighbour. Lader she call bag. Oh, thank you so moch por lookeen' after the kitties. I had to go oud berber' rosh y they wor ou'side y blablabla.

Talgh to the paw, lady.

She larck hor cads oud all weenter nighd.

To say gracias por the food y the concern, the order day I ged presen' frarm the roop. Eed ees lower arnto my terrace weeth streeng. Eed ees rabbeed storffed weeth cadneep. I lighe heem. I doan' lighe the neighbourwoman no mas bod I lighe the rabbeed.


I yam lorcky to be sleepeen' eenside. Weeth my rabbeed. Nard arn the forgheen' roop een the forgheen' weenter.

[Peectures: The Smoothman. Ob course.]

Friday, February 17, 2012

Bag together again


I yam a cad arn fire. The Wooman ees bag an' she breeng por me a new blanket frarm Afreeca call' keekoi, whad corbers the whole bed. She ees lorneen' my new routine an' feedeen' methords, y I yab rewarded hor by makeen' worn orpchorck, early thees morneen'. Then I went y made yompa arn the roop. She say' she weell plant the grasses por me today. She say my skeen ees dry so she boughd me fullfad yogur', bod I yam sospicious of yogur' now...

I allow hor to taghe thees worn peecture. She was berber' depress' after I fire hor as official pawtraid artees'. So to keep hor self esteem OK I weell led hor maghe occasional peecture. So high maintenance...

Een the meantime, I yam famous! I appear een the Martha Stewart Leebeen' magazine ob March, bod they deed nard wride my NAME! Whad the forghe???? Please wride the ledhair to carmplain. The yoomans would be northeen' weethoud me...

Friday, February 10, 2012

Eep, yo.


My libe ees becormeen', how you say...eensoppordable.

Sleed y snow.

Fire y ize.

Sormtheen's gard to geeb.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Changes


I heear a beeciouoos rumour.

Ees eed true? Does anyworn know?

The Wooman weell retorn?

Ees eed yos chatt-hair?

Or truth?

Because, como, I hab a new routine...

Lighe the bed. Hombre. I yab halb the bed. When the Wooman lefd I was nard sleepeen' arn the bed, no.  She use' to say, Remembhair the days when Estorbo use to sleeb arn the bed, sigh?

Well, I yam sleepeen' arn the forgheen bed now y there ees only space por two. Heem, y me. I yam the 1% y I own the bed OK? OK. The 99% can sleep arn the terrace.

We doan' negotiate weeth desertors.

Also, the Wooman ees fire' as my official photographer. There ees no deman'. The man ees bedair. The truth horts. Whad can I say. Eed's New York, baby: Eef you cannar' taghe the head, remobe frarm the kitchen, yes?

Whad else? Oh.

Yeah.

I forgard. Streeng.

Sheet.

...(theenkeen'). Well, she ees allow' eenside to pull the streeng por me, because the Smoothman cannar' pull streeng por sheet. I doan' know how she do eed, bod the Wooman maghe' the streeng ber' animated.

Ees also a prarblem pequeno: my temphair. I doan know how to say thees, bod I yam becormeen' (smallsmallboice) a nice cad.

Whad eef the Wooman does narn lorb a nice cad? I yam the only kine' she ebber had. She ees use to War. She seeng, I bide hor. She stroghe me too many times, I bide hor. She tybe too loud y I maghe attagh frarm behine'. Now, I porr all the time, I maghe lorbeen' soun's een the morneen', I no bide. I no heed.

Maybe Dr Slade maghe hypnoteesm arn me? The Smoothman say ees because my typhoid made me angree. Hyper. Loco. I doan eben know eef I yam Estorbo Loco no mas. My identeedy ees crombleen'.

I yam habeen' a crisis.

Does arnyworn know a shreenk?