Mungojerrie, who had been reclining on his part of the plant shelf that warmed up delightfully in the morning sun and benefitted from being over the lounge radiator, sat up and made a mental note to discuss this talk of vacuum cleaners with Tabitha Twitchit.
Just before the elevenses meagre allocation of cat biscuits (PussyPaws Finest) Tabitha returned from the garden and shook herself to dispense with the icy water droplets picked up from investigating rodent sanctuaries among the shrubs and low bushes.
“Mecerrm! Mungo,” she said, “you’re shirking your duties, stretched out on your shelf so I think you should allocate half of your elevenses to me.”
Mungo looked askance. “Do you remember that tale of the Bullpuss ‘A Twin For Mr Fluffy’?” he asked.
“Brrrrrp, yes,” she replied, “where Tigtoes and Squimps examine the clear container on the newly bought vacuum cleaner and there are so many pale ginger cat furs that they think it has sucked up the Bullpuss.”
“That’s right,” agreed Mungo, “and our people are once again talking about humming, whirring machines that seemingly have minds of their own. I get so worried by them, they make my whiskers vibrate and one has to take such special care of a magnificent tail like mine.”
“Mewp, yes,” said Tabitha, “you generally have to leave the house whenever there’s vacuuming being done. Why don’t you stand your ground like I do? I only move when it’s time to de-fluff my basket!”
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