Crappy Christmas Morning

I awoke to the sound of a radio 4 programme about poets reading their poetry, and Kooky bleating to be fed. I struggled to ignore it all, but Kook became insistent, so checked the time: 6.45am. Staggered upstairs to feed the Kook, let him out and in again several times, for which he rewarded me by doing a huge poo in his tray which he thoughtfully left uncovered for my benefit. Maybe he thinks it is dirty to poo outside in the garden, or perhaps it is a Christmas present. I rapidly covered it with litter to dispose of later. Happy Christmas to you, too, Kook!

I then went to tidy the living room and move the table about a bit, before putting on my new colourful Danish cloth. Kook immediately realised that this was done for his benefit. He climbed up and ran around it a few times, clawing it up a bit, before reclining, sprawled out. He is giving me rather a baleful stare now.