Dear Mother

Where did we go? My baby. Where did we go?

Wise words, Mother, I think you will agree. Following the recent wet troubles that Wales has experienced, and the tales of near misses heard over the bar last night, I find myself in a reflective mood this morning. Our petty squabbles seem insignificant (though I must clarify that food itself is not insignificant, and never will be - this is me after all).

But I find myself wondering if a truce might not be possible?

I ask for little, only a reignition of our formerly loving relationship. A belly scratch here for me, a wiggly tail there for you. A few moments now and again to just be together.

Yes, we will tussle. Yes, you will never give me as much food as I desire. Yes, you will come at me with scissors on a depressingly regular basis. And yes, from time to time I will, inevitably, roll in something stinky. But we can overcome these difficulties. Perhaps with the Power of Love?

I wear my heart on my sleeve in the hope that we can walk a smoother path together.

Your furry first born,

Clive