Eleven o’clock this Sunday morning. Frimousse went out by himself. He’s walked very slowly in his garden and then laid down by his small fir-tree.
Eleven o’clock this Sunday morning. Frimousse went out by himself. He’s walked very slowly in his garden and then laid down by his small fir-tree.
Not very brave today, our sweet Frimousse. He certainly spent some time in his garden but a lot of time on the bed of the guest room. Not really slept. But he purrs when we stroke him. He ate but not that much.
Sad.