Because I have had a bad time with her not paying me the attention I deserve, not even letting me use the healing paws and staying in bed and not letting me in…
‘Wait a minute, Sasha! Yesterday you slept on the bed all day and I had to rug up on the lounge!’
Well it was all very bad and I don’t like to hear you coughing…
So, to continue my story.
Lynettea was massaging me and removing my winter fluffs, when she told me a story about my ancestors’ home in Russia. The beautiful wild Russian cats, when the spring turns to summer, rub themselves on bushes which have evolved to capture their loose furs. Imagine the soft furs looking like grey mist in the fields.
I think she made this up.
