Friday, May 25, 2012



Last night was somewhat disturbed.

At 3am the dog wanted out.
Then he was scampering around downstairs, until I told him to go to bed.

At 4, the Zsu Zsu Battle hamster at the end of our bed (don't ask) woke up and started squeaking and twittering. I could have cheerfully drop-kicked it across the room, but carefully placed it on its side on the cabinet and eventually it went back to sleep.

At 4.30, something was skittering under the bed. I looked around, it went quiet. As soon as I was still, off it went again. I thought it was a cat, but there was no cat. I thought it was a cat's prey, but couldn't understand why there was no cat seeking it.

Eventually I located the source. It was a frog. A frog, for zog's sake.

What peeved me most about all these ructions was the husband sleeping peacefully beside me. It was only me chasing the frog around the room that woke him up. Git.

Then for a while I lay thinking that the hamster (real hamster) didn't look like she had any water when I went past, and I couldn't help wondering how long her bottle had been empty and if she would die of dehydration, so  I had to get up again and fill it. Bah.

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