Jon: Where’s the cat?
Me: I don’t know. He’s on one of his long absences.
Jon: At his girlfriend’s?
Jon: Why doesn’t his girlfriend ever come here?
The rabbits, meanwhile, have deliverd seven. Liz sold one to her friend at school; another is being taken by a colleague of My Bride’s; three we’ll keep; that leaves two others to go to other homes.
Joseph, a young Ugandan rabbit expert of sorts, is earning a few extra shillings with it all.
(And the cat, remember, has that jelousy streak. He seemed just a little too happy when the previous batch of little bunnies died; didn’t show up at the funeral we had out by the water tank in back. Someone accused him of having white rabbit fur around his chops … it wasn’t hard evidence, though.)
Regardless … Jon is now pushing for chickens.
We really need a farm.
I suppose that would give the cat and his girlfriend enough space too.