Saturday, 10 November 2012

I'm going to have the RSPCB* after me.

This morning's lie-in was once again rudely interrupted. Not as you might think by a cat throwing up under the bed (that woke me 15 minutes prior to my alarum going off yesterday), but first by a rather hopeful boiling of the kettle, then by a considerable amount of clanking and some screaming. 

Cats wail. They do not scream. 

Sighing mightily, I decided that further sleep was not going to happen, so proceeded into the kitchen for coffee. Little did I know what was in progress on Twitter... 

Yes. They'd suspended the poor thing from the kitchen cupboard by her pull ring. By the time I got down there the Makies had scampered and she'd managed to get herself vertical, but was dangling precipitously over a bowl of rather hot water. Apparently, they'd promised her a hairwash. 

The poor girl was rescued and given some hot sweet tea. 

Plink and Melchett are now banned from leaving the study without my express permission. The Blythes are re-grouping on the windowsill and plotting their revenge. 

Oh, for a quiet life? 

*That would be the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Blythes

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