Moby decided it was high time he brought his family a treat.
He’d found the perfect gift. Something he would love if given to him.
Always a safe bet that, to give a gift you would love to receive.
It had taken him hours of patience to find and he had had a bit of a struggle getting it inside without disaster and ruining the surprise.
But Moby is nothing if not dogged in his determination.
Molls is having a quick wash in the kitchen. Unanticipated company, looking the other way.
But you can’t fool a fooler.
How is it that every other night the household is tucked up in their beds fast asleep except for the one night Moby decides to bring in his piece de la resistance that will secure him a place in the family annals?
Elevate him to heights previously reserved for…well…other members of the family.
Blast Molls and her sixth sense.
Moby hesitates on the other side of the doorstep. How is he going to smuggle his special treat onto the dining room table to rest, undisturbed, untouched by curiosity, for his beloved lady of the house to delight in on the morrow?
Oh well, there is nothing to be done about it now. He’s been rumbled and he doesn’t want a fight.
He’ll just have to allow Molls be an accomplice.
Molls, her selfish streak emerging, takes a well aimed swipe for the gift. Moby, quick as lightning, is ready and clamps down.
A tug of war releases yowls and screams that can only be described as caterwauls.
Molls runs with the prize, Moby in hot pursuit, blood dripping from an open wound.
They’re upstairs on the landing wrestling and biting, chasing and snatching, escaping and gasping.
A light comes on.
Caught!
Moby snatches his precious live prey and runs off with it downstairs, Molls in hot pursuit.
They dash into the garden, all thoughts of gift giving evaporate in the feral, primordial, instinct that rises in a guttural wail hurled backwards at Molls from the garden wall.
Moby blinks as he crunches down one last time before gently batting the mouse to the ground.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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