Dear Granny and Grandpa
I am miserable and having a miserable time.
Mum tried to cut my toe nails. Yes Granny, MY TOE NAILS with a nasty snippy thing like Grandpa uses on his talons. As soon as the shears came into view I screamed; I find it better to scream before any contact is even remotely possible otherwise we both get scared and everything goes wrong and then my carefully cultivated toe nails disappear.
Due to what Mum calls my abominable behaviour towards the clippers she decided we would file my nails. Oh Granny, this is much more refined – I have heard about nail filing. It involves soft pillows, fine scent (dead rabbit would do), powder puffs to pamper and treats being fed constantly. I was quite excited until it dawned on me that Mum’s idea of filing is not quite so dignified - I have to get out of bed!
We don’t go for walks any more, we go for filings. We have to walk for miles on the nasty tarmac of Banbury. Mum says it is lovely to walk around the town and ‘explore’. Mum also says that as I get to go for a run with my friends during the day on the soft stuff we can do the hard stuff in the mornings and evenings. I hate it. Every time I try and walk on the grass I get dragged onto the nasty hard stuff. It is hateful. My pads are hardening up and my nails scrape making a tip tapping as I go along. I can’t sneak up on ANYTHING any more.
If that isn’t enough to upset me we are listening to shouty rock music. Apparently it isn’t rock music it is ‘nu metal’ and ‘rap metal’ whatever that is, but anyway it is FAR TOO LOUD. I am scowling.
I hope I can come and visit soon. I miss the compost heap and snoozing on the duvet next to Granny.
Lots of Love from your devoted
Grandson
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