We have my lounge room equipped so I can enjoy it.
Lynettea hopes she will be careful and not fall over my ‘toys’ as she calls them.
She often tries to photoshoot me playing with my toys, but the photos tend to come out blurry because she is so slow.
I am quick, like bolts of lighting. I dash. I rush. I dart from my tunnel entrance to seize my furry orange grub on its long stick. Lynettea tries to wave it. I can tell it is her. But she is too slow. My razor-sharp claws have snagged it.
I roll over in the tunnel and dart my paws at her, from the holes in the side. She laughs and jostles the tunnel.
