Is Not a Felon

Feel like a common criminal - a veritable feline felon - after yesterday's cruel treatment. Early on, straight after breakfast (not nice meat without even a hint of jelly - Will She never learn?) They shut the door to the music room so Myself couldn't get outside. Was reduced to sitting in the conservatory, watching My garden. No way could I hope to help the tiny, little, tail-less cotton-woolly baby brown birds fluttering and crash landing all over the place. (One 2 days ago, 3 yesterday.) Had been so hoping to assist. Especially when they disappeared into the undergrowth and the parents waited anxiously, grub firmly held in beak, waiting to ram it down a bright yellow throat.

Retaliated by allowing My beautiful tail to lash at His seedlings and by leaving part of My breakfast on the sofa cushions. And a gummy fur ball by the door.