Musings on the road to recovery

It’s a beeyoootiful day here today. The sun is shining, the butterflies are floating about looking pretty as is their wont, the sky is a lovely shade of blue and Luna (the housecat) keeps escaping to enjoy the sunshine like the rest of us. I swear she’s developed opposable thumbs (Cravendale advert – I’m blaming you, you gave our cats ideas above their station. They will be wearing basketball caps the wrong way round and bullying us to do their bidding soon. Oh, wait. They do that already) and has learnt to open the back door. Mr RR, however remains unconvinced and is determined that I’m just not shutting the door correctly. He’ll see the error of his ways soon enough.

Her record number of forays into the garden, in a Great Escape esque way, is currently standing at three per day. She’s developed a knack of slinking past, of maximising the tiniest of gaps in the window and pushing the door with nose and paws when it seems ever so slightly ajar. Then,whoosh she’s off, trotting down the garden, pausing only to eat grass (Luna – part naughty tortie, part sheep) and meowing furiously when she’s once more caught and put back in the house. I do regularly take her into the garden on a very long lead, but it seems, that like many humans out there, it appears that with cats also, the more freedom she has, the more she desires.

So, should anyone wonder where I am this glorious sunny afternoon, I shall be firmly ensconced in the garden, trashy novel in hand, practisig relaxation techniques and cat herding.

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