Despite his red, swollen foot* Grumpy managed to hobble out the door on Saturday evening for a David Helfgott performance at Mundaring Weir Hotel.
I had planned for myself an evening flopped on the couch, making further headway with The Virago Book of 20th Century Fiction. But I was feeling a little tired and before I knew it I'd fallen sound asleep. At some point the cat jumped up on me and nodded off as well.
It pleases me no end that the little furball and I are so alike: we're both champion droolers.
*Unfortunately, I am reminded of the sage words of one of Grumpy's friends, The Major, when reassuring the lads on certain matters: "They're all big when they're angry, mate."
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