Our tri-coloured cat, the killer cat, has a favourite fence post that she sits on whilst scouting for defenceless rodents. This happens to be on the track where we walk our halter trainees. Yesterday we were out with the nervy ones, Chas going one way, me the other, towards the cat, when she pounced, caught a mouse and shot out into the track with it where she ate it in double quick time. Two nervy alpacas leapt in the air horrified by the slaughter, oh dear. Today the one who always sits walked very nicely and the one who always walks sat, humans bash their heads against nearest brick wall and wish they had never gone into this showing business. Meanwhile the spitting, alarm calling junior kept right on doing those things. Our walk took us to pastures new and she was marginally quieter but still kept making terrible growling noises. Eventually we went back to the barn where Chas was relaxing with a cup of tea (he had just finished skirting 21 fleeces poor thing). I sat down and the junior female stood next to me as nice as pie. Chas took her back to the big pen and she walked through the barn like an angel. I wondered whether a miracle had occurred, probably not, I bet she is just as angry tomorrow.
Back in the world of humans Alex phoned from York where he, his worldly goods and Rhiannon had just been decanted from a white van driven up from London by Matt accompanied by Tom. Their new flat sounds marvellous, Alex’s new boss lives around the corner and she is taking him to work tomorrow – marvellous. How exciting it must be, new job, new flat, new city.