Chuck no more

Chuck, my favorite prey, is no more. That is at least what M tells me. He is broken, she says. I do not see the point. I can still drag him around with me, I don’t care whether he consist of one or two parts. They easily fit into my mouth. But M will throw him away, she tells me. This is what Chuck looks like now. He changed into an extended version of himself:

img_20161207_123935605

M thinks I will be sad about it, so she bought me a new prey. She just gave it to me and tells me this is Chuck, too.

chick

Ha! I can’t be fooled: this is not Chuck. He does not smell nor taste like Chuck.

img_20161207_123851742

This ain’t Chuck, this is Chick!

I don’t mind, though. I like to play with Chick. Maybe even more than I did with Chuck, because Chick makes squeaky sounds when I bite her. Nice.

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