No have ark...

It has been a while since I last set paw to keyboard, but the fact is, beloved fans of mine, I have precious little to report. I have been cruelly deprived of all manner of exciting adventures by the simple expedient of the weather.

My life has been hideously restricted by the endless rain over the last 3 months. Normally in summertime I am roaming my territory, flirting with attractive young queens in the neighbourhood and basking in the sunshine in convenient flowerbeds. Alas, this wet summer has put an end to all my favourite pursuits. I have been limited to quick dashes outdoors in between downpours, in order to conduct my, ahem, business, before returning to the drier if duller delights of our fine manor's interiors.

I have grown bored - there is nothing to do except sleep and eat. Even for a lord of leisure such as my good self, such pursuits wear thin eventually. I am seriously considering building an ark so I can sail away across the flooded Cheshire plain to drier and more interesting climes. She Who Controls the Can Opener thinks I am just dozing when, in fact, I am plotting to liberate timber and tools from the Boss so I can build a splendid yacht.

I can see it now - winters in Cannes, moored in the harbour amongst the rich and famous, enjoying the mild Mediterranean climate and dining lady cats of good breeding. By day, I shall laze on my deck, cap tilted at a jaunty angle, dreaming of caviar-flavoured Whiskas and large cigars. In the summers, if the weather is poor, I could go to wherever it is drier. And best of all, I shall be far away from that mangy chav, the House Bitch of Doom.

All I need to do is locate the key to the Boss's workshop...