My cat was purring and rubbing her nose against the book.
“Why are you called Mr. Pretty?” I asked my husband. “This cat’s pretty – you’re not.”
So saying I ejected him and the mouldy book.
“Hey enemy – why did you throw the book at me?”
“Because I suddenly realised its meaning: you need to leave the house now – it’s a lovely sunny day for being chucked out. And me… well, why would I be out when there’s a beautiful cat to kiss in here? ’Bye, minga.”
And with that I went back to my beautiful cat for a kissing session.