The most recent addition to the household is Lyra, our son’s new pup (and quite the cutie). Lyra’s arrival has been met with some reservation by the incumbent cats (Pingu and Dobby). Thus far in any cat v dog encounter the cats have triumphed, with a malevolent line in hissing. However, I am wondering if they are coordinating a more sinister campaign.
In contrast to their previous approach of presenting dead mice to us as bedroom gift items (I am now a committed slipper wearer) the cats have taken to leaving their catches around the garden. Of course Lyra thinks a dead mouse is just the very fellow for an afternoon snack and, as well as poop patrol, I now find myself chasing round the orchard trying to wrest slightly decomposing rodents from her jaws.
At 2 am this morning it became superabundantly clear that one had slipped through. It did not go down well.
After completing the “sweep and scrape” exercise, washing the dog bed, the blankets, the evil toy penguin, the squeaky bone and the dog I had a cuddle with the pup then handed her over to my son (who then dealt with the phase 2 dog sick an hour later).
Needless to say by 9 am the pup was all a bounce and perfectly fine. I am sure that the fleeting Dick Dasterly expression on Pingu’s face from the stairs was a figment of my imagination.