Then a week or so ago I went to consult with a very impawtant skin doctor bout my itchy scratchies. More of that for another bloggie. Anyway. She was admiring my woolly wiriness when she remarked to the squares. "I'm VERY surprised how slight he is for a wire boy that's been Cat's Rated. They're normally overweight. I'll weigh him". Cruel eh? Mentioning my missing Crown Jewels. Hee,heeee!! No.No. Not the ones I wear in my Royal Park . . .
She hoicked me onto the scales. SHOCKING!!!!! I've gone and lost nearly 3lbs!!!!! Cos of nooooo TREATS. What's that about then??? Wasn't overweight to begin with. Not even a member of Jackson's Substantials Club!!!!
Crickey!!!! Clock how mini I've become . . .
and weak. Look. Can barely lift one legged in front of the other. . .
See the windmill? Here. Behind me on Wimbledon Common. No? OK. Here's another view.
Better? There's a sooper dooper Tea Stop Shop next to that windmill. Bet you're thinking did Eric get a wicked big wodge of dogalicious fruit cake ? A nice hot cup of char? A sandwich short of a picnic? Noooooooooooo. Them leggeds are hard hearted.
Drastic action required. So I've pawfected a new pathetic expression.
....with my bark box W I D E O P E N in the hope a smidgen of scrumptiousness might be dropped in. FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Think it'll work?