Harley the cat came home infected with Mites and now we're all bitten.
Sassy (the other cat) tried to bite my face off.
I nearly went under a truck on my motorbike today.
The weather's rubbish.
I'm bored.
Apart from that everything's fine. Oh, except that my darling daughter wants (another) five hundred quid. I didn't bother to ask what it was for this time. I just gave that much last month, and the last, and the last. And if she tells me that I hate her and wish she were dead once more time, there's going to be serious trouble. Oh, yes, she wants me to knock up (her words) a new banner for her on-line business. In 3D of course but it should only take a few minutes. It's my own fault for telling her that she couldn't borrow someone else's as they might get a little touchy.
And just to squeeze that little bit more money out of me the vet maintains that both cats might have different types of mite, meaning that I have to take both of them for biopsies of their scabs, which will of course mean that I have to pay twice.
I seem to remember the days when everything went smoothly, or that might just have been a dream I once had.
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