Homesick

Deana told us that we were moving house and that we’d have to stay at her sister’s for a short while, but it’s become a really long while. I miss Deana a lot. And I’m panicking because I can’t watch her every day. Anything could happen.

Mum is fine. She spends most of her time sleeping in the new bed that Deana got us. It’s huge and bouncy and I think she thought it would make up for not being with her which makes me think I’ve got a lot of work to do in convincing her how much we love her. I’d sleep on a hard tile floor if I could go home.

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The new bed is in the utility room, in front of the dryer which makes things really nice and warm. I like that bit, I do. I like being toasty. But it means Mum is out for the count most of the time, legs in the air, snoring away, and that means I have to play with my cousins Dhsk and Lewis. Which is fine, I suppose.  But they aren’t very mature. I don’t want to race around the garden chasing a ball or my own tail. I’ve never liked balls or sticks and I’m not going to start now. And I don’t really see why it’s fun chasing my tail. I know exactly where it is and it’s never going to be anywhere else. Continue reading