I’m afraid this isn’t a good time. My tummy’s a bit upset. Or maybe it’s baby Perry, kicking.
I’m getting tired of waiting for the big day.
And I don’t like how their father said I was getting as wide as the broad side of a barn door.
I’m outta here. What a time to have a photo shoot. No appointment or anything.
Do you think you could come back another time? Maybe Sunday afternoon? I’d have a chance to pick the pitch out of my fur.