To Spain, or not to Spain?

That was the question, and here is the answer - not. Poor Richard is gutted. They said he had to make a decision by Friday lunchtime and at that point the antibiotics hadn't kicked in yet, so he had no choice but to pull out of the trip. Of course by the evening they'd started working and the swelling was going down - so he could have gone after all, only it was too late.

Meanwhile tonight Maddie slipped through a loophole (now closed) and over the wall in her never-ending quest to protect us all from these new cats (I presume) and I could just hear her scampering around the neighbourhood with the occasional bark. Sigh. Thank God it was a Sunday night and there were no cars about - cos that's the last thing she was thinking about!

Needless to say, just as I'm standing there contemplating putting some shoes on and heading out to see where she is (a fruitless task if ever I saw one), she shoots back inside the back door and into her crate.

"Job done" she says. Hmm. So the back door is now firmly closed!