So I was thinking, I can't just keep saying 'My Owner'... well I could but that would just be stupid, he has a name so I may as well use it. Besides, he hates his name almost as much as I hate mine. I kid you not when I tell you his name is Ignatius Snoxall. That's him on the right by the way, he's 13. That's enough about Iggy though, you want to read about me not him. Who can blame you? I'm far more interesting than any human even if I do say so myself. I sometimes contemplate world domination. I'd be good at that, though being of dubious existence I'm not entirely sure it would work. I was going to give it a try over this holiday you call Christmas but it looks like the turkeys beat me to it. Poor things, they must have gone wrong somewhere in their strategy because it seems that most of their population was overcome. You humans even cooked them and served them for Christmas dinner, no doubt a warning to any fellow turkeymen that may be left. I'm still eating the leftovers you know, Iggy declared it was no longer fit for human consumption and promptly put it in my food bowl, charming. Still, it's better than sprouts. I had more wind than a brass band after a couple of those.
I fancied a change from turkey yesterday, but apparently eating the next door neighbours cat isn't the polite thing to do. I tried to tell them it was okay, I'm not polite but they didn't listen. I was sent to the dog house as punishment until they remembered we don't have one. They sent me to Iggy's room instead, I think they were worried I'd eat the cat if they sent me outside.
Fluff
