A little snippet

I've been a busy sorting out Kathryn's novel for her so I haven't had time to blog over the last few days. Just so you don't think I've disappeared off the face of the earth altogether (not such a ridiculous assumption only a fortnight ago), I've decided to offer a little snippet of what I've been up to:

I haven’t really set the scene properly for you have I? First of all, there’s her. She has fur almost the same shade as mine but she doesn’t have the white beard. She’s quite bumpy and the lumps shift around according to what she wears. Her face is a bit shiny sometimes and sometimes, she draws black lines around her eyes or colours in her lips. She also covers her claws in different shiny shades of grey. If she walked properly with her forepaws on the ground, I reckon she would be bigger than me. Stop there. I’ve just had the most unpleasant image come to mind; I’ve noticed that gravity is unkind to humans and this shift of direction could have untold implications. Right that’s it. No more on that subject. She smells of food, mainly. Sometimes, in the morning after her shower, she smells a bit flowery, almost fruity but it doesn’t last and she rubs her fingers all over the food they’re going to eat. Her pockets are the best. She keeps biscuits in there for me.
The giant husband human has a lot of fur on his head and it sprouts out on his cheeks and chin too although every now and then it disappears and he suddenly smells excessively strong. But it’s out of a bottle, you know. Typically, humans are slaves to artifice and don’t appreciate the beauty of nature; the pads on the underside of my paws are impregnated with the sweetest aroma and ideally located for dabbing behind my ears, on my stomach or just about anywhere I can reach. It’s just there, waiting to be shared. A decent scent is not just for Christmas.
There’s a small, male human who collects woodlice and a slightly bigger female one who talks incessantly. And then there are the two bigger ones; one in the bedroom who only comes down to eat or attach himself to the television with a piece of wire and the other one who is supposed to have left but comes back to empty the freezer. Interestingly, the all have different types of fur which suggests to me that they’re a pack of mongrels.
You can see my problem; they really defy description. I suppose that actions maketh the man and some things are best left to the imagination, particularly the ones I’m thinking of so let’s press on with her story.