Beach ball bears the brunt

I am very upset.

My poor Bink is not well. He has been to the vet a few times but he keeps falling over… He’s about as cheerful as always, is my darling Bink, but he’s getting a bit scared running around and playing because he ends up on his side a lot of the time… Very confusing.

Insolent beach ball! I am in no mood to play.

The waiter has Bink-proofed our mansion after my little cuddlemeister fell out of it sideways at feeding time the other day. Lost his footing, over the edge he went! Holy haystacks, if it wasn’t for our waitress’s speedy reflexes, my personal bundle of fluff would have knocked himself out for certain.

My poor Bink! I can’t bear to see him stagger like he does when I’ve pushed him out of the way for a piece of carrot! And normally my grooming sessions fix every problem but not this time, no matter how much I lavish my attentions on him – he’s already fallen over once when I was sorting out a bit of delinquent fuzz on his right cheek.

Bink must get better…

That’s it!

I’ve had enough of this nasty piece of cheap plastic getting in my way, annoying me with its useless blowing about, taking up space, threatening to trip up my Bink, and it’s not even edible…!

We’re settling this right here, right now!

Pah.