Every now and then, this little fella will come scurrying in the garden, looking for food. Last week when I saw him from inside, I managed to snap several pictures of him without scaring him off. It must be the same one who pops by every now and then.
Sometimes he would just run along the wall behind the hedges but on that day, he came out within the golf and ping ping balls. Official pet number one, Rooney, must have been snoring away to not sense his presence.
It’s been raining again lately and this has caused a lot of woes in the garden. For starters, snails are crawling everywhere and this is detrimental to the plants. Hubby has declared war on them and the last two nights, he’s gone out to catch them.
Armed with the torchlight from the iPod and iPhone, the girls and him have had quite a catch. M2 decided to keep one and named it Michael, as if it’s a new pet. Don’t ask.
Last night, more were caught and Michael 2.0 became the latest addition. Let’s see if there will be Michael the III the next day…
It was a balmy night and everyone was out in the garden after dinner, even the Roo, official pet number one. He was given a juicy bone and gnawing to his heart’s content, his drool messed up all over the terrace floor. Yuk, slimy!
Then playtime started. His favorite orange chew cow was brought out to tease him into action. Feeling revved, he leaped to snatch it from me and as he trotted towards the terrace, he slipped on his own drool pool!
It was hilarious but the girls missed it. Hubby and I guffawed and thought he would be a clown about the slip.
But he was embarrassed!!! He sobered, limped a little and did not look at us! He literally looked away. Aww… My baby was embarrassed that he slipped and we laughed at him. Hubby had to coax him and gave him a good scratch and some loving. It was so amusing. I hope we hurt didn’t his feelings…
Every evening, the routine is typical. We come home, we eat dinner and the Roo, official pet number one, looking in from the external wet kitchen, barks to get attention. This can be quite annoying and especially so when the day at the office was a brain-sapping one.
Rooney is not allowed in the house because his drool is just to gross for us to deal with when it drips onto the marble floor. But we play with him in the garden. Occasionally, curiosity gets the better of him and he would saunter into the house to wander into the dining room, dry kitchen and the courtyard just to appease his wonder of the house. Most times, he pretends not to see us, thinking if he does not see us, we will not see him and he won’t be caught!
There was one evening M2 brought him back to the external wet kitchen after playing in the garden and he went back grudgingly. Feeling unsatisfied, he came back out to the garden again and made a ruckus insisting it has to be Mummy—me—to lead him back and that M2 bringing him back doesn’t count.
M1 shot him a disgusted look and muttered “Hrmph. What a brat! Being Mummy’s boy.”
Come to think of it, if hubby attempts, he wouldn’t even budge, what more the girls. So indeed, he’s being Mummy’s boy, a bratty one though.
I’m not looking at you so you can’t see me!
Angieneering 
Remarks