Posting days: Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday.
Sigh. How annoying is this? It’s Friday night and I’ve retired upstairs to bed to watch catch-up TV. It’s late and I’m nicely wound down. But I’ve forgotton that I stripped the bed this morning. Until I am confronted with uninviting sheetlessness. Damn. And now I’ll have to have a shower.
Always keen to be economical with effort I don’t bother to dry myself. I know that by the time I’ve stuffed the duvet into an inside out cover, taken it out and restuffed it and stretched the sheet a couple of centimetres further than it wants to go, I’ll be dry anyway.
The clean bed linen smells lovely. As I tug out the last corner of the sheet I’m glad that I dried it in the fresh air. But what’s this? Near the edge of my virgin sheet is a large brown splodge. The kind of splodge made by earthy whiskers brushing against wet washing. *!*! That bloody Isis again! Ever the fastidious housewife, I cover the splodge with the duvet and get into bed.
I wonder how high I have to hang washing in order to be certain that Dirty Whiskers can’t stretch up and wipe herself on it.
It’s not easy to hang a sheet out of the reach of Isis. I have to spread it across the top of the whirlygig so that only about a foot hangs down on any side. After much fiddling and faffing I manage it.
Later, when I emerge to fetch it in, I am gratified to note that it is unblemished. No edge has been touched by The Hairy One. The sun is hot on my back. I breathe in the summer smells as I pull down the clean, sweet smelling washing.
But what the hell is that? Right in the centre of my lovely sheet is a large green heap. Some incontinent bird has flown over and relieved itself.
Do you ever have the feeling that the whole natural world is out to get you?
Hairy 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