Posting days: Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday.
She couldn’t post my holiday snaps last week because she’s an IT incompetent and doesn’t know how to transfer images from her camera to her Hudl. Most of them don’t come out. They are even fuzzier than this one. Well, I can’t stand around and wait while she takes them. I’m a busy animal.
This is the best one. It’s me killing a very dangerous snake. It’s not my fault that there isn’t enough room to swing a reptile in Friend’s house. Obviously stuff is going to get whacked.
And how was I to know that the seat of the stairlift wouldn’t come off when I shook it and the metal bar it’s attached to would bend? I can’t help having strong, healthy teeth. What’s an engine ear? Why do engines have them and why do they cost a lot?
Today Human grooms me again. Ugh. I’m moulting and am perfectly happy to get rid of the hair myself.
Now I feel naked. Just look at me. That should be on me, not be put out for the birds.
Then, no sooner does she let me out to play in the garden when, blow me, she collects up the things I gathered together last night to play with, and takes then away.
They are some of my favourites too: wire netting, coiled steel and a lovely spiky branch.
As you can see, I am just about to pounce on them.
Still, I get my own back. She can’t keep up with me. First I pull up the rest of the wire netting from around her strawberry patch. I am just about to run round the garden with it when the spoilsport confiscates it. Never mind, there are strawberry plants in pots in the border at the other end of the garden and I manage to dig those out three times while she paints preservative on new, big, thick, fence posts. When I bite off two sprays of green strawberries she shouts at me. Can’t think why : I try one and it’s horrible. Have to spit it out.
While her back is turned I drag a bag of lawn sand out from behind a bin and spread it over the path by the back door. Somehow my outside drinking bowl gets knocked over and there are sandy paw prints now all over the kitchen floor. She probably won’t notice.
She gets quite nasty about the lawn sand though: she says, “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have a bloody lawn now anyway.”
Can’t think what’s up with her. Anyhow, not to worry, I just get on with dragging my tunnel back down from the table where she put it before we went away. It’s gone now. I’ve sniffed everywhere. I know I can smell it but I can’t lay my paws on it.
She really is tetchy. You wouldn’t think she’d just had a week’s holiday, would you?
Isis came from the Aeza cat and dog rescue and adoption centre in Aljezur, Portugal. For information about adopting an animal from the centre, contact firstname.lastname@example.org or www.dogwatchuk.com