Rufus has come to stay for a week while his owner moves house. This poses a few problems. The main ones being, who owns the sausages in the fridge and who owns the sofa? Actually, there is no problem on the latter, as Rufus owns the sofa and I merely have use of it when he isn’t here. I may be allowed to sit on the floor, leaning against the sofa, as a concession.
My garden has never been completely secure from intruders – I’ve talked about the fox here before. In anticipation of Rufus’ arrival, and to avoid a re-enactment of ‘The Great Escape’, I spent the last week or so putting up new fencing around the garden. I wanted to make sure that while Rufus is here he has free reign over the garden without being tempted by the wider world. Most of the fencing is done but there are a few areas which are difficult to get to and the dim light of dusk made seeing what I was doing hard. I managed to spear myself in the ear with a small branch and several times I knocked my glasses off. So this morning I tackled the awkward bits in full daylight.
I was watched by the boss the whole time, except when he had to go and lie down. He checked out every link and made sure there was no slacking of effort. Then he claimed the sofa for himself once again.
I expect there will be some negotiation over the time and frequency of walks. It may go something like:
“I want to go out now.”
“But it’s 5am.”
“Yes, time to go out.”
“But I need my sleep so I’m can be an effective work unit.”
“Yes, but it’s time to go out now.”
Then there is the little matter of the sausages. I expect it will be similar to the sofa in that it will turn out that I don’t own any of the contents of my fridge. Toast for tea, then!