Last night lying in bed we heard some electronic squeaks and peeps followed by
a woman's voice saying
"the number you have dialled has not been
recognised."
So I get up and drag
myself into the office where Felix is sitting there staring at me - with his
backside right up against the telephone.
The stupid animal was working the phone pad with his arse and looking at me as
if it was my fault.
I suppose we should be grateful he hadn't managed to
dial 999; that would have been a catarsetrophe.
(I'll get me coat)
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