The Writer has been gone a whole week to teach at Hollins University and she'll be there another five weeks. It's such a long time. I miss her. Don't you?
Miss who? It's wonderful without The Writer. I can to do what I please, like sleep all day without her bugging me.
Don't give me that. You love it when The Writer brushes you--she says it's like currying a horse because you're so big, but you purr and "make biscuits" in the air. And you'll miss nosing into her sitting room every evening for "cookie."
She doesn't always give me a piece of cookie. Sometimes it's cake or a donut or pie. I don't like chocolate very much but I eat it to be polite. Okay, I kind of do miss Evening Cookie and the brushing. But that's all.
And you like to hop in bed first thing in the morning so you can wipe your big nose all over The Writer's face.
Well . . . yeah.
And who else throws Mousie or a balled up piece of paper for you to catch?
Actually, that's a lot of work. I only do it so The Writer gets some exercise. Otherwise, she'd be a big ol' blob.
You do miss her, admit it.
Maybe a little tiny bit.