Blimey! No, fings ain’t da dice an’ play they are supposed ter be. It’s all downright alarming, frankly! I mean, I do dig a bi’ ov fuss, orrite, but dis ain’t quite what I ‘ad in mind.
Mind you, I do get lots ov attenshun. I know I’m cute even when emaciated an’ tired, that’s natural but I’ve learned ter be gracious abaaaht it. Exceptin’ ov caaahrse what ‘ideous ‘abit they ‘ave wiv syringe feedin’, doesn’t go down well (no pun in’ended, yeah) wiv a bite yer nose an’ spike da face bun like me who likes ter be in control.
The worst fing tho ain’t so much da man ‘andlin’ – a good kickin’ after I’ve ‘umoured ’em fer a while usually sees ’em off. Why in da name ov all that’s decen’ did they ‘ave ter wrap me ear in PINK bandage?!
Nuff said, yeah?
The Bunnington Post 