Millhouse came home at 9.30 p.m. last night with blood all over his otherwise nice white bib and yet another scratch on his nose! Apart from the scratch, there was no sign of other injuries. I'm proud to say that true to the feline law of silence, Millhouse kept his lips sealed about the matter.
With their usual overreaction, the humans wiped his bib as best they could whilst babbling on about what could possibly have happened. Millhouse remained quite nochalant; even looked pleased with himself. Heh, heh we puss cats know how to keep the humans guessing!
No doubt swabs have been taken for DNA analysis and Poirot will be knocking at the door anytime now. He'll have to solve the mystery without any co-operation from Millhouse, that's for sure!
I pussonally think he went through one of those time anomalies and had a close call with some prehistoric creature. He has been watching Torchwood quite a lot lately. Will we ever know?
Herky
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Hi there Herky, I was just reading your 'Thanatoid' definition on word imps blog and thought I would pop over to see what you and Millhouse have been up to. I'm under house arrest at the moment, having just had 'the operation'. I've been a bit sleepier than normal, just lying around and eating and sleeping. The children of the house are quite rude and keep pointing at my bald patch saying 'Uggghh, that's gross!" Gross? Me? I don't think so. I have heard that I may start to put on a little weight after the op, so I'll have to watch how many of those whiska's temptations I eat (I've still got some left from my Christmas stocking). Maybe the Mrs of the house could tell me how many weight-watchers points are in each one, she seems to be quite interested in that at the moment. Anyway miao for now!
Oh my goodness, I realised I inadvertantly posted my last comment under the Mrs of the house's blog name. It was of course me "Milkshakes" writing.
We have to suffer these little operations I'm afraid - don't suppose there'll be any mini-milkshakes now, will there. I was allowed to father one collection of kittypoos but being a bit pussy-macho I didn't do much to bring them up. Ginger, down the road was one of mine. We used to play together when he was an adolescent but sadly he ate some rat poison and met an early end.
Oh, and don't worry, I realised your fostermother was Mrs Sara..we have to humour these humans, don't we?...just to get the food, treats and warm sleeping spots....
Herky
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