My pet slave is off to Oz for a fortnight with the grandkits so I’m to be left to the untender mercies of the other one. That’s right, the Chair Stealer and Duvet Denier.
I can see that I am in for a grim two weeks. Chances are he’ll forget to feed me. And since he wants peace and quiet while he writes a paper for a conference he’ll probably thrust me into my travel basket and head upcountry to the farmlet which means that I’ll be denied the solace of a good sulk in the hot water cupboard.
I enjoy the farm in summer but am less enthusiastic about it in the autumn and winter when it’s all rain, mud, drooping greenery and grizzling heifers. However I can see that there’s no use complaining about it, I’ll just have to resign myself to discomfort in the country and try to have some fun hunting vermin.
Perhaps if I give him a dead rat or two he’ll let me be the one who sits closest to the fire in the evening.