Mistermurphy padded into the lounge from the kitchen for (what seemed like) the millionth time.
His bowls were still empty.
Mumy still sat in the chair staring at the noiseybox , everyday she smelt better and better.
Not like she use too.
She use to smell like the water and smelly soaps that she put him in every now and again that made him want to run outside and roll in the dirt.
Mumy had changed.
She didn’t mind anymore if he wee’d inside and didn’t call him badboy if he poo’d on the carpet.
Actually she didn’t say anything anymore, she no longer picked him up and put him on her lap, and then there was the big issue with his bowls.
He had to knock over the flowers yesterday just for some water.
But gee Mumy was smelling really good now.