My name is Wilma
My name is Wilma and it would be very helpful if Mum would remember that. I am not, nor ever have been called Alfie. She didn’t help herself when she told me I was looking more like Alfie as time goes past. I suspect it’s because I look quite different to Pebbles – either that or Mum is going senile! Let’s not go there.
On the subject of being senile, I’m very pleased to say that the Aktivait is making quite a difference to how I’m feeling. Mum says it’s changed how I’m behaving too. I don’t know what’s in it, but I’m more than happy to keep taking it and enjoying the benefits. It means that for the time being I won’t have to try any other medication, which is good news.
Sloth versus Hoppig
Sloth has a rival in Pebbles’ affections. Days were when she would carry Sloth everywhere. Times when she wouldn’t go out into the garden unless he was carrying him. Then came Hoppig. Hoppig arrived in her life by theft rather than gift, but Pebbles wasn’t about to differentiate. It all started one night when she’s left Sloth somewhere and he wasn’t around to be her comforter. Hoppig promptly offered to step into the void.
For that night Pebbles suckled on Hoppig to get her to sleep. Since then they have been inseparable. She doesn’t treat Hoppig any better than she treats Sloth. He gets shaken on a regular basis and is utterly filthy. He gets taken into the orchard and left in all manner of dirt, but she loves him none the less. Mum is contemplating putting him through the wash at some point. She may do the same with Sloth, but I don’t think she’ll get away with doing them both at the same time.
Love and licks
Wilma
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