I never got much time with my real Papa. I don't much remember him, but Ma mere says, "Your Papa was proud of you, his little man."
Milo is right about Papa. I don't mean him not being our real Papa, we know this, Grann; but thinking Milo and I were born to be his servants when we're not, we're children too, not just his precious Emma and Ella.
Bijou is my friend. I'm not alone. I have a friend. And she's not alone. She has me and I have her. Bijou and I are loyal everlasting.
But the treats must be sparingly to last through the winter months.
I believe Bijou and Binky have come to an understanding. I discovered the two lying in the meadow, feet apart, resting from some sort of earlier horseplay.