Ad larng forgheen' last eed ees spreeng. Or maybe sommhair. Dios mio las' nigh' was hart.
Eberyday I go oud to the terrace y lie arn the deck. I yam nard afraid frarm the men een the weendows no mas. I yam nard eadeeen' the bords. Eef I ead the bords, no mas TB to wadge.
Bod I keep my eye arn the forgheen' blag squeerel. He is CIA. Black arps. Colleghteen' my eetelleegence.
He shoul' ged real jarb.
Maybe I weell bide his yogular.
Also, eenteresteen' debelopemen. There ees a new poossy in town:
Maybe the Wooman can maghe por me a laddhair? I know how to go orp y down a laddhair.
A little summer fling for Estorbo?
ReplyDeleteOh, the new kitty is que bonita!
ReplyDeleteOh, hermano, she is mas fina! You coul' be como Romeo and Juliet ... well, not exactly like them, pero romanteec like them. You know whad I mead?
ReplyDelete*Mean* (the human has a stuffy dose.)
ReplyDeleteWe have a new neighbourhood keety, too...maybe como Siamese? Eet does not like us.I, Geiger have to make another blood test to see if I am stil diabolic.Pfft!
ReplyDeleteI wonder if your new furry friend is a wooman...
ReplyDeleteSommer lobeen' 'appen so fas'...!
ReplyDelete