I received this in the post today – a mystery gift, no name attached. Although I have my suspicions – MM was it you? Whoever sent it, it was inspired. Scary but inspired.
Now, people probably hadn’t realized (because if you read back over this blog I hardly ever mention it) but I am a poorly bunny. And you, mystery gift-giver, expect me to get a harness on a cat. I repeat - A harness on a cat. Can you imagine the blood loss that would be involved in such a thing? That’s my blood loss not the cat’s. At Christmas my sisters bought Cyril a festive collar (luckily for him the santa hats for cats were sold out – and that’s not a joke). I had to wait for him to fall asleep before I could get it over his head – and I think his expression (see below) says exactly what he thought of that particular indignity.
Having said that, I may don gloves, thick coat and chain mail and try to put the harness on. I think I’d look quite the thing walking a three-legged cat around the neighbourhood.
Last night the other-half escaped to a family shindig – many thanks for all the good wishes he brought back from the W family masses. While the other-half was strutting his funky stuff, an old mucker came over to my place to baby sit me. Thank you old mucker, although I think it must’ve been a pretty dull evening for you seeing as I fell asleep on the sofa at 9pm – Cor I know how to party. And now I’ve just used ‘party’ as a verb – something I swore would never happen. Truly my world has been turned upside down.
Speaking of which, Cyril, Walkies!