It is of no use unless you have a moggy (and no one has developed one for a froggy!) but if you want to know the age of your moggy then use this:
Our old moggy Greebo is 80 years old apparently. No wonder he whinges an farts a lot. Doesn't smell of wee though...
More soon as I am hopping to Ireland and France soon. Ireland for one of the human's mother's 80th birthday for which I hope there is cake. Lots of cake. Paris 'cos we are meeting up with the Naked Financier and his sensible wife. This will be the first time since we saw them in Fiji 7 whole years ago. I wonder if he has any clothes on yet? Has his hair grown at all? Has the Porsche blown up yet, being an over-engineered piece of German junk. One shall let thee know.
Until then, keep ribbiting, which is better than croaking (it).
Below are two pictures of me being forced against my will (I am an aquaphobic frog, y'know) into the humans washing machine for a spin cycle and stuff. 'Tis a god job that blogs don't have smelly capabilities as I was, er, pooing myself. And I haven't been that dizzy since Mr. Quinn produced his wallet. In broad daylight. Shocking!