I hate cats (today)
Living, as we do, in a barely liveable part of London, coupled with toxic air and even more toxic people, I was delighted that the four plants you see had not only lived, but thrived – until last night.
Early last evening these were four identically sized, well whatever they are, bushes grouped harmoniously together, until Harley the soon-to-be-ex-cat decided to come in. Not content with whining at the door as he usually does he tried to get in the tiniest window in our house nearly ten feet above.
Cat-like reflexes, Hah!
After failing the first time and falling on his back thereby demolishing the first, he tried again, failed again and demolished the second. Then he whined at the door to be let in. I didn’t discover this until this morning. If I’d seen it last night, then being trapped in someone else’s garden shed for a week would have been luxury compared to what I’d have done.
Mr butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my furry little mouth.
I’m so going to get him for this.