She’s been out all night and she wouldn’t like that.

Last night I reminded Susan that Lil was outside. She wouldn’t like that. I reminded her at 3.o' clock and again at 3.30. Susan got herself a drink.
Good she’s up. “Now go and get Lil.” She didn’t.
She’s dosing off again. There is a glimmer of light in the sky, must be about 4.00 am. I tap Susan on the forehead. She rubs my head. “Lil! Outside! Go!”
 Susan told me to, “Shh.”
I purr in her ear. Snuggle. At 4.30 Susan puts on the news. I’m on her head, a furry nightcap. Every half hour, throughout the night, Susan has ignored me. At 7.00 am, I go out. I can smell Lil. Susan scattered the contents of her litter tray on the plant borders. I can smell Lil. The paving stone are damp and it’s breezy. Lil doesn’t like the wind in her coat and she doesn’t do damp. I know Lil. She’s been out all night and she wouldn’t like that.