Phoebe is rapidly becoming a fan of the Rolling Stones and has been heard humming "Satisfaction" (as in - I can't get no) under her breath.
She has finally decided to un-velcro her nether regions from the floor and stop calling Bill names.
Unfortunately Billy's manly sensibilities have been wounded and , fragile little flower that he is, he is playing hard to get.
Phoebe has been rolling and calling and getting into positions that only olympic gymnasts or advanced yoga practitioners can manage, all to no avail.
Bill wants to play - big baby.
Meanwhile the rest of the feline adults can hear all this going on and are standing on the sidelines offering advice and a running commentry. Just as well my neighbours are hard of hearing.
I am tired of trekking up and down the garden in the mud and the rain just to have Pheebs look reproachfully at me, as though it's my fault she 's got an itch she can't scratch.
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