Feeding animals

I did the grand tour of my London residences today.

Waking up in Chelsea at 5.30am, I blearily made crumpets and marmite and drank what might turn out to be my last cup of coffee for a few weeks. Then off to Barnes to pick up a friend and drive her to the airport. I’ll be looking after her dog and her lovely flat with no books in it for a few days. Room to think a bit.

Once my friend was safely dropped at the terminal, I spun straight to Hampstead in order to feed a hungry snake.

In my pocket I had a note from her about the things the dog needs. He’s an anxious beasty. He goes off his food when he’s disrupted, and the last thing I need is another animal with an eating disorder, having successfully weaned Hex back onto his regular extra large white mice. Which is why I had to get to Hampstead – to keep him regular.

I didn’t want to have to take the doggy to the snakey as I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t play nicely together, but it’s Hex’s food day today. I’m thinking that doggy would be weirded out by snakey. Snakey would think doggy was another warm moving anxiety pillow, but that would only be one way comfort. It takes a good long time for a frozen mouse to defrost in warm running water. I had to make sure that the two animals didn’t freak each other out while the mouse warmed up.

I think I succeeded. Cicero didn’t seem to associate the snake smell with anything and was as cheerful as ever. I guess Spaniels haven’t had to evolve a fear of snakes.

Once he was dozing I played with Hex a bit and then let him hunt the dead mouse puppet. His eyesight is atrocious. He can only really see movement. This time he aimed a bit better when he struck and I didn’t think I was going to lose my fingers.

Now I’m back in sleepy Barnes. We went for a walk around the lake.

Now I’m going to stuff myself with tasty food and then turn in. Not mouse. Not treats. Pie.

I’ve got to take the car in to Kwik Fit first thing in the morning tomorrow. It has developed a very concerning bang in the spring of the left front wheel.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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