Houndless

This week, the house is remarkably quiet – primarily because Hound is down at her kennels/respite care place.  It’s made sense, because of the work we did over the weekend, and the ongoing painting etc. that Herself’s been doing – but it still means the house is strangely quiet.

Of course it’s also lovely – it’s meant uninterrupted sleep at night, for example – and I’m sure that our neighbours are finding it equally odd/pleasant without Hound, and without inane/insane barking whenever we’re out in the garden, or going up to see the chickens, for example.

Psycho Cat is surprisingly unhappy about it too – he’s already attacked both of us for no good reason. He definitely misses Hound when she’s not around, much as he’d never admit it. (if the fuzzy bastard could talk, anyway) And when you take into account that he hates change too, it’s not surprising that he’s being a little grumpy fucker.

Of course, normality will resume on Saturday evening, once I’ve driven down to Wokingham, collected Hound, and driven back. (Another six hours on the road, and a 300ish mile round trip)

But for now, well, I’m just going to enjoy the peace for the next few days.