A late one from me, and I can only apologise for my conspicuous absence.
I have been ankle deep in Book Two, fighting my way through guidebooks on serial killers and quail keeping (research for the books) and generally bumbling about.
We have new residents in the house. As of today, we have a pair of axolotls in the house. At least, I think that’s how they’re spelt. They’re Mexican amphibians. Very odd-looking, they eat grubs and show a remarkable level of interest in me. Not sure if that’s a compliment or not.
We’re minding them for former neighbours of Aimée’s.
But this evening has given us reason to Fret. Duchess, the oldest animal in the house, a fourteen year old bunny with a temper and cataracts, may have had a moment. Not quite ready to call it a stroke yet. Hopefully, she’s just slept awkwardly. Poor old thing.
I’ve never known a rabbit get to such an age. I genuinely thought they only got to, seven or so.
And, in general, she seems quite happy. She enjoys growling at the young bunny, Niamh. She stomps around her hutch and nibbles things like a proper little gourmand. She’s definitely the boss of Tara, the Labrador. And me.
Frankly, we’re bracing ourselves.
As if to make a point, Doobie (Jack Russell terrier) has just farted at me. He’s a good lad.