Sydney stole my chair.

These days Sydney has stolen my chair - as you can see here;

That's my chair, my rug and my cushion and Sydney appears to be playing dead when I try and get her out.

This poem seems to set out the situation quite well;

Squatter's Rights

(Richard Shaw)

Listen, kitten,
Get this clear,
This is my chair.
I sit here.

Okay, kitty,
We can share;
When I'm not home,
It's your chair.

Listen cat
How about
If I use it
When you're out?

Except Sydney doesn't go out.

Neil Harris
(a don't stop till you drop production)
Home: helpmesortoutstpeters.blogspot.com
Contact me: neilwithpromisestokeep@gmail.com