Move Over - It's My Turn Now Hello, it's Xander here. I've been complaining to Mummy that she never lets me post; after all this blog is supposed to belong to both of us! So she agreed, on the condition that I promise not to rite lik eths, because it really annoys her. I agreed, of course - I'm a very literate cat! Some may say that when I sit on Mummy's lap whilst she's reading, I'm just staring at the book with a glazed look in my eyes - but I'm thinking about the symbolism. Don't you get a blank look when you think about symbolism? Anyway, you wouldn't believe the weekend I had. You see, it's been very hot this summer and though I am practically perfect in every way, somehow I picked up fleas. Mummy tried to get me with this awful white stuff she called "flea powder", but I was having none of it - that stuff really ruins the glossiness of my black fur! However, the fleas were seriously crimping my style, and Mum got tired of my