Читать книгу ‘… and that’s when it fell off in my hand.’ - Louise Rennison - Страница 43

Quiet, apart from Mr and Mrs Across the Road’s house. As I passed by, there was loads of shouting and yowling. I hope Mr Across the Road is not ill-treating Angus’s children. He looks like a kittykat abuser to me. And he has a very volatile temperament. The least thing sets him off. He’s like my vati. He appeared shouting and yelling at his kitchen door as I went by to God’s house. At first I thought he was wearing a fur coat and hat until I realised the coat and hat were moving. He was completely covered in Angus’s offspring.

Naomi as usual is not taking a blind bit of notice. She is a bit of a slutty mother: mostly she just lolls around in the kitchen window enticing Angus with her bottom antics.

Last week the kittykats, who are ADORABLE, if a bit on the bonkers side, burrowed their way under the fence and were larking around in Mr and Mrs Next Door’s ornamental pond.

I said to Mutti, “I didn’t know the Next Doors had flying fish in their pond.”

And she said, “They haven’t.”

The flying fish turned out to be goldfish that the kittykats were biffing about in the air. When the mad old next-door loons noticed and came raging out of the house, the kittykats cleared off back under the fence. I don’t know what the fuss is about: they got the boring old goldfish back into the pond. Even the one caught in the hedge. Anyway, as punishment, the kitties were caged up in the rabbit run. Not for long it seems.

Mr Across the Road was trying to get the kittykats off him, but they had dug their claws in. They are sooo clever.

He shouted at me, “They’re going, you know. They are going.”

Rave on, rave on. I bet he loves them really.