Who says that cats don't like water..?

After all, when someone cuts off all your fur just five days after the heaviest snowfall in twenty years, what better way to warm up than by standing under a hot shower for ten minutes.

But the fact that Chloe's now out in the cold and suffering from major hair loss isn't actually my fault. It's the fault of Lisa's friend, H. We were due to meet her for lunch yesterday, but in an outrageous and callous act worthy of Sharleen Spiteri, she cancelled on us. Apparently there's been a murder in Brighton and she's helping police with their enquiries. Mainly because that's her job. She's the Miss Marple of Sussex Police. Or maybe they just needed her to get the donuts in. Whatever the case, the only way she'd have turned up yesterday is if we'd phoned 999.

It's particularly annoying because I turned down another lunch invitation earlier in the week in order to keep this date with H. The way I keep skipping meals, it's a miracle I'm not thin.

So with nowhere to go and nothing to do, I took the only available option and shaved my cat. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Possibly because I was suffering from sleep deprivation and couldn't think clearly. Yes, I'm afraid Amelie's still teething...


She looks like Bonjela wouldn't melt in her mouth.

We've now had two consecutive nights of pain and tears. And that's just me and Lisa. Amelie keeps waking us up to tell us how much her gums hurt, and asking me to fetch the Calpol. I had to take her on a two-hour walk to Hove and back yesterday afternoon just so that Lisa could get some sleep. Come to think of it, the only one who didn't sleep for those two hours was me.

But the solution's just around the corner. We're going on a family outing to the dog track this morning, so give me a couple of hours and I'll have the money for a two-bedroom flat.