I think Princess has a bit of a dicky tummy,’ I said, cuddling my beloved fluffy tortoiseshell. ‘Have you been giving her milk again?’
‘It’s what cats drink, isn’t it?’ replied Greg, eyes glued to his phone while munching toast. We’d met through a dating app six months ago, and I’d initially been charmed by his good looks and banter.
I sighed. ‘I’ve told you not to give her milk. She can’t digest it properly.’
‘Sorry, Caroline,’ he mumbled, without
