Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
The Return Of Jane
by admin - 17:00 on 04 April 2014
It's been a while since The Cone Of Shame has been worn by a member of The Pride. That changed today.
We'd suspected for a day or two that not all was well with Pandora's undercarriage. Although as lively as usual, she'd taken particular care when grooming and objected to being petted in certain places. One of Dr Death's assistant's revealed why after shaving off a small area of belly hair: she had an infected one-inch gash.
The consequences were anaesthetic, debriding, stitches, antibiotics and Jane Austen's bonnet. Back at The Rural Retreat the puppy create was retrieved from the outhouse and now contains a convalescent who's not allowed to leap or leave the cottage for the next ten days. And she's already been hissed at by Maia. Poor puss.
Even Willow accidentally (I presume) taunted The Prisoner by leaping on to the blanket-covered top of the crate to chase her tail and poke her nose through the bars, as if to emphasise the inmate's lack of freedom. She'll be allowed out later but only under supervision.
Cones and kittens – a more up-to-date snap will appear if circumstances allow
The cause of her injury will remain an unsolved cat mystery. It's not a bite or claw mark; it's too clean for a broken branch. Glass or wire is a possibility.
The only confirmed bite victim is Matchgirl, who's been showing off the result of an insect attack on her knee. Not a pretty sight.
Band Update: The Strays' pre-gig mini rehearsal last night lasted barely twenty minutes – not because we were again beset by angry, sleep-deprived pensioners, but because the four songs we needed to brush up on emerged fault free (more or less) from the PA speakers. This was a huge worry for Matt, who superstitiously fears that this means a shambolic gig is in prospect. That's drummers for you.
We concluded the evening by loading the gear into cars and a van for the epic five minute journey from rehearsal hall to Ord Arms where it was assembled in the hotel function room, ready for the gig. This means the band can stroll in at 7.30 tonight for a sound check, then relax backstage in our sumptuous dressing rooms with the Jack Daniel's, M&Ms (blue ones removed) and groupies the management have been ordered to provide.
The only dark cloud on the horizon hangs over Jim, last seen poring over the big book of instructions for the lighting rig and smoke machine he deems necessary to entertain the good folk of Muir of Ord. Jim's not happy unless he has knobs to twiddle.
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