Oh for a quiet life...

Yesterday's To Do List was properly hijacked when I staggered out of bed at 7.30 and side-swipped the door jamb with my little toe. There were a few minutes on the floor as I  clutched my foot and swore. I wondered if I'd managed to do myself some serious damage, as it hurt so much. The day was then mostly spent with my feet up and keeping Boy company on the sofa. He was feeling very sorry for himself as he'd picked up a cold from work and wanted to die quietly. We had a lovely day. Me moaning about my foot, Boy snorting the contents of his nasal cavities into a box of Kleenex. That was as exciting as yesterday got. We retired to bed.

Just after midnight, a thump in the hall got me up. Rummy obviously decided I needed a bunny snack during the night. He was particularly miffed when I relieved him of said bunny and put it outside. Not as miffed as the bunny, who for some reason, did not want to be part of our midnight feast. Strange that.

I went back to bed.

I heard Rummy come in through the window about half an hour later. He did not walk as he normally did. It sounded like he was dragging something with him. He was. Rummy is nothing if not committed. He was determined that I should have bunny for midnight munchies. Despite what I, or the bunny thought of the idea. This time, when I relieved him of the very pissed off bunny, I closed the window behind it, so Rummy had to stay in.

This morning, I staggered very carefully out of bed to the hall - I can put tentative weight on my foot now, but let's not go as far as proper shoes just yet. I was in my onesie. The little feral cat's face greeted me. I went out to feed her, but she was more interested in being sociable, than in the food. Either that, or it's just not the caliber of food she's gotten used to. Though where a feral cat that subsisted grass snakes, gets off in being snooty about the food she's given, is a bit much. Especially, before coffee.

I limped across the room, glanced outside and did a double take. There was a massive black and white cow eating Z's plants in her newly created garden bed. I couldn't find Z in her home. I poked my head around Boy's door and said the immortal words "Get dressed. We have a cow situation." 

He's obviously still a city lad, because it took a few moments for him to process that information. And even once processed, he didn't quite move for shock.

Happily, by the time I hobbled out there with my big stick, Z was ushering cow away from her potentilla and back into the field. She is truly unflappable. Seeing me, in my onesie with a big stick, Boy's shoes, before coffee ready to take on an errant cow, didn't faze her at all.

Then Eloise, Z's new puss decided to come and visit. 

"What's this?" asked Eloise.

"I just want to eat my breakfast in peace," said Boy. "Is that too much to ask?"

For the rest of this post, Rummy is hereby known as Grumpy McSwipeypants. 

He didn't take kindly to this invasion and got steadily more and more bad tempered until he swiped at Z, when we went to visit, and she was only trying to be sympathetic to his plight. I shuffled him back to mine soonest after that.

I think he's since forgiven me for encouraging Eloise. He brought me a small rodent for breakfast.

And no, before you ask, I don't find living in the country boring.