Change is on the cold north wind that has seemingly come to stay in this part of the Great British nation for which my breed is so named, and I find myself at the heart of it, as ever watchful over bae.
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I have become victimised by it. That laser dot of the skies.
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Where art thou bae?
This is what I wonder as I wake and the cruel chill of the day’s emptiness clutches at my whiskers.