Oliver's nose twitched.
His whiskers twitched.
All the receptors in his top lip twitched.
He had never smelled so much dead animal in all his nine cat years.
True, there was no bowl with 'Puss' on it, but there was an enormous pile of bones and cut-off bits and pieces. This was a really good house.
Munch, munch. Eat, eat, eat.
Baaaaarf. Queasy silence. Baaaaaaarf again.
Then he remembered, that only food that comes out of a tin is real cat food. And only food that is in a bowl called 'Puss' is real food.
Time to find a food bowl with 'Puss' on it.
