Living solo in a biggish old house deep in the countryside could get lonely. You need at least one good friend within shouting distance to laugh with, sound off with and occasionally escape with (to prevent the onset of cabin fever). I have a good friend who lives about half a mile away (the only other blonde in the village) and we help to keep each other sane in what sometimes seems like a parallel universe.
One of the the things that brought us together was a mutual love of animals and, between us, we have five dogs and four cats. We walk our five dogs together most mornings and barely a day goes past without one of them getting into deep doo-doo over something or other. For the past couple of mornings, for example, the two labradors have gone crackers over a dead cow, which we think may have slipped into the river and been washed downstream. And is now very dead and rank and smelly, so the dogs - being labradors - are beside themselves with excitement and are gone for ages trying to find a way of tucking into what they see as a mega-snack. Finding it must have been, for them, the canine equivalent of discovering Tutankahmun's tomb. Riches beyond their wildest dreams.
At times like this, we really appreciate the cats. Not that they are without their quirks. I have twin brother cats who are the most unlikely pair of feline siblings you could come across. They're big tabbies but, while one (the bigger of the two) lolls around the house like an Eastern potentate, the other is on the alert - permanently. Even though we've had a solid month of rain, he's currently taken to living in one of the outhouses so he can be fully prepared to pounce on any small rodent that comes his way. But, during the winter when we had six consecutive months of rain, he ventured out only if it was absolutely necsssary.
Then, the energetic one used to spend his days up in my office, under the eaves, where he had a panoramic view of our garden, next door's garden and of the vineyard beyond. And he would often sit in front of the iMac, gazing at the screen, while I churned out words of pith and moment.
Well, when he eventually returns to his old haunt and starts iMac watching again, he has a treat in store: a brilliant cat blog a friend told me about - The Libe ob Don Estorbo della Bodega Dominicana. You'll find it at http://www.estorboloco.blogspot.com/ It is very, very funny. And anything that can make me laugh out loud very early on a very wet Devon morning is to be welcomed. I hope the cats appreciate Don Estorbo as much as I do. As you can see from the picture, Don Estorbo - who lives in Brooklyn - is a very fine cat indeed. (And we hope his Meeesers doesn't mind that I borrowed his photo.)
