Thanks to the repeated escape attempts by Ratdog, our house now resembles Fort Knox.
To the uninitiated, it’s going to look like an aggressive and unfriendly bid for privacy. Passersby will have no idea that we’re doing it for their sake, to prevent the sudden appearance in their lives of a highly strung, yapping puffball.
In the meantime, having been thwarted from attempts at unrestricted perambulation, here in town she has worked out how to jump over our garden gate.
I see further domestic expenditure in our near future. I’m hoping I can continue to sell these to Simon as “home improvements” but I suspect I’m already stretching the limits of credulity.
The garden is still suffering from months of scaffolding. The healthiest plant in our garden by far is this monster which has completely misunderstood the concept of a compost bin.
