There’s no grass left

Hello it’s Bertie here.

I don’t know what’s going on.  There’s no grass left where Mummy puts us out in the evening for grass time.  It’s all brown.  Although there is a little around the edges.  I nibble that but it’s not enough for a real supper. We spend most of our days sheltered form the sun in our runs.

Most days Mummy goes around the vegetable patches with a funny bucket-thing with a spout which makes it rain where she points it.  Sometimes she does one vegetable patch, the next day she’ll do the other, and she sometimes waters one of the trees and some of the flowers.  And sometimes some things under the roof of the patio, too.  I suppose she has to make it rain because it hasn’t rained for ages.  She doesn’t make it rain on the grass, though.

Please make it rain on the grass, Mummy.  We need it.

2 thoughts on “There’s no grass left

  1. Auntie Dawn

    It’s been really hot in NYC, Bertie—around 35C for days on end, with high humidity. Just damp and sticky and disgusting. We have a large machine called an air conditioner, which cools our home a bit, but when it’s that bad outside, the inside never gets quite comfortable. The boys seem fine, though; the humans are miserable.

    I’m sorry about the lack of grass. I hope it rains soon.

    Stay cool, boys.

    Liked by 1 person

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