Yuk!
For the past couple of days, I've noticed an unpleasant smell in the hall. Having elimated the nappy bin in the garage and the glue on Jacob's latest playgroup creation (no idea what its supposed to be) as the source of the pong, I decided that Jacob must have dropped an apple or something down the back of the telephone table and that was causing the smell.
So I investigated. Only to find a half eaten, mostly rotted mouse. Unfortunately Doug wasn't back from London to dispose of it for me, so I had to get half a tree's worth of paper towel to pick it up and get it into the wheelie bin.
Bloody cats. If they're not vomiting on your duvet, they're not eating the things they bring into the house. Actually, its cat singular. Monty. Little Cosmo only eats dried cat food, maybe a little tinned tuna if its offered. If you put him in a room with a roast chicken, it'd still be there an hour later.
There's a bit of a funny smell in the family bathroom. I was putting it down to the drains needing seeing to, but maybe I need to start looking behind cabinets for decomposing vermin. Or maybe Doug can. Much more his line of work.....
2 Comments:
I recently sent Ian a text message thus:
"There is half a squirrel in the garden. Have I told you lately how much I love you?"
That was the foxes, though. Ian came home from work and buried the semi-squirrel, and the foxes dug its head up again. I wish they'd just order pizza like the rest of us.
I've just found a dead rat in the bedroom. No signs of injury on him, but he'd shat in terror as there was a turd hanging out of his arse (either that or Monty caught him on the lav).
According to Andy, we're supposed to take the dead things, congratulate Monty for catching them, but then put them on the back step so he realises that thats where they belong, no on our bedroom floor.
I tried it with the rat, but he just gave me a look that said "bovvered" and went back to sleep.
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