The Saga Continues - (Part 23)

One simply cannot get the staff. Maid went off for the day and a replacement human was left in charge of feeding us.

Service was not up to the usual standard. A tin of something was scraped out onto a plate on the floor for Gingie-crew who both dived in as if they were starving. Food was all over their whiskers and spilled onto the floor which they greedily lapped up. How undignified! I was amazed that they didn’t lick the glaze off the plate. I sat with a look of utter contempt on my whiskers waiting for my proper food to be served.

Soon my kibbles had been poured into a white Wedgwood dish and I was scooped up in order for me to eat in peace and quiet away from the dreadful slurping, gobbling noises from the other two on the floor. I daintily ate my dinner on the draining board.

Too many kibbles had been poured out for me to finish and I was shocked that they were then  emptied onto the remnants of Gingie-crew‘s food and then, when they were full, put it in the bowl marked ‘dog’ and put outside for Mikey-Mike, who was round in a flash to snaffle the scraps! I was horrified; I cannot wait for Maid to come home. This feeding fiasco would never happen when she is in charge of catering.

I jumped down from the draining board, past the Gingie-crew who were both licking splatters of gravy off their faces and whiskers and even off the floor. How Common! I went to have a complete breakdown in a paper bag I found on the carpet.

Maid’s version!

I was away today in London at a champagne reception. I got home way after midnight to pitiful mewls from Dumpty she came and cuddled up for a tickle and purr. She seemed to have missed me and seemed pleased to see me home again.

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