My mistress had nightmares last night. She told me what she was dreaming and given she is trying to arrange an international move, I don’t think it takes a sniffer dog to work it out. She and my master had a train connection to catch but they didn’t know when it was. Then the time was posted up on a plastic cup, written in biro, in the coffee shop. Even then it was smudged. Then she knocked someone’s bags off and they were shouting at her. Then to finish things off, somebody asked if she had a plaster but she said she only had two left and needed them both for herself. I think she needs help. It may actually be me that needs help as I have to live with her and I think she is starting to crack. I did tell her she needs to get out more and maybe spend a little less time on her own, but she doesn’t listen, not to me anyway.
I haven’t received any response to my application for the England Manager’s job. Although it has now been suggested that Wales could be managed by a cat. That would certainly add extra spice to our clashes.
This is the letter that I wrote to Father Christmas yesterday. I just hope I get a response to this one.
I have been good again this year, really I have. For Christmas please can I have lots and lots of lovely presents. I haven’t decided exactly what I would like but I would like there to be lots of things. If it is going to be a snowy winter maybe I could have a sled, then I could alternate between trying it out myself and pulling my mistress along on it.