They've all been up to their tricks today - Murfs managed to find another deer leg (I suspected he had when he ignored my telling him to "Come!" in my strict voice - never happens if he's only got a stick) and we had another tussle on the doorstep til Richard came out and tempted him in (sans deerleg) in with his breakfast - Murphy's, not Richard's!
Then, as I sat in then garden throwing the ball for Mads after work (I'm not going to go into the problems I had cycling up the hill with my skirt caught in the brakes), I noticed something blue in the infamous bush - and she was nice enough to bring it over. And there it was - the remainder of the wrapping of a loaf of bread which I KNOW I had only taken two slices out of for yesterday's "Tian de Courgettes" (Richard's favourite, he assured me)
So fresh from the pain we all had after she ate the entire banana loaf on Saturday night, she goes and eats an entire loaf of bread on Monday night! No wonder she wasn't entirely willing to finish every morsel of her and Murphy's breakfast this morning.
And of course, not to be outdone, Gizzy managed to throw up in her bowl after we finally gave in and fed her something she liked (and therefore stuffed down her neck far too fast).
And finally, Richard has pulled a muscle in his leg going running. Am I the only sane/healthy person here? And how worrying is that?
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