Coming Back

The Fragmented Shoe is no more. TB shook it so violently that all it had left was the soggy bit held between its teeth. Spat it onto the grass (at long last realising how gross it actually tasted?) and wandered off to smile at the chickens. Which were not pleased.

The Carpet Cleaning Man is getting very used to coming here. And She doesn't have to ask how many sugars in his tea any more. Personally Myself is not keen on his visits - Makes much noise and a fair amount of steam. And Myself (and Him) is shut out for hours afterwards until it all dries. He has to come back today as he missed all the fur balls I had been leaving under the sofa for these past few weeks.