[m i a o w] the cat

Mow is the dark brown, very aquiescent, super furry animal. His name rhymes with cow. I brought him in again last night to be my work companion. Which was fine. He just sits on his favourite chair like a little stuffed toy and demands the occasional scratch under the chin. I’d just gone into the other room for a second, closing the door behind me, and I heard him do a great lunge and instantly transform from soft toy to fanged predator. I cracked open the door and realised he was under my desk. His fur is so ~~dak~~ dark that he blended in the with the shadows and all I could see were the mouse’s tail sticking out of one side of his mouth. Oh god. If there’s one thing that I can’t deal with, it’s fire economics. Sorry. Cats and mice. M put on his avenger cape (but not before giving me dark looks for being a useless article) and made Mow give it up. I thought that it would half dead with ~~showed~~ shock and chew-marks. But no. Mow spent the rest of his time inside in disgrace and the Mowse was back….on my desk this morning. We can’t catch it, it’s very wile. If this is all an incoherent drivel…I got to bed at 5am.
squeak