My deer neighbours

We've got new neighbours. They don't live in a house, though. They live in the woods. The don't get fed by Mr and Mrs Owner which is sad really because they do find us quite nice biscuits and the Whiskas kitten food at bedtime of course (which Mrs Owner calls wet doos).

The new neighbours seem to just eat grass. I can't understand how they survive on that. I only eat it if I've got a fur ball and need to throw up. Mrs Owner calls it my bulimic moment, whatever that means.

They aren't very friendly either. I went to look for young Bambi yesterday afternoon to see if he wanted to come out and play 'mouse hunt', my favourite game, but he wouldn't come out of the woods no matter how much I called to him. Then those noisy jays started shouting at me again, I think they thought I was after their babies to come and play too, but they never let them join in my other favourite game of 'feather bed'.

The Little Bar Steward