Mrs Down's Diary June 3 2009

IT has been strange adjusting to life without our old Labrador Meg.After Bud, our Jack Russell died, Meg laid claim to the kitchen and would not be stirred from the house unless to go in the back of the Landrover or stagger out for a quick scrounge round the remnants of a meal.

Nell and Holly still look lost. They looked to Meg as Top Dog and do not seem to have sorted out who is who in the current status. Personally, I think it will be Holly, the spaniel.

To that end we have decided to look for a sheepdog puppy later in the year. Nell is nearly eleven, and cannot be expected to be as active as she is now for much longer. Last time we lost our sheepdog, we did not have a younger dog coming on.

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So for more than a year John was working with the sheep without a four legged friend to help. Just his two legged hindrance. Me.

But we have no plans yet for another Labrador. Perhaps next year. It is too raw now. And Holly would feel very aggrieved to see a threat to her gundog role. What did surprise me was to receive a card from our vet, sympathising with 'the sad loss of Meg, clearly a much loved lad'. Very kind indeed and not something we get if they have to come out and put a cow or sheep down.

No such requiems for two other furry creatures however.

My friend Fran was shocked to catch a glimpse of a mouse in her bedroom a couple of days ago. "It just ran under the bed and disappeared from view " she said. "I didn't know what to do but there was no way I was going to go to bed in that room until the mouse was gone."

Now Fran is quite tenderhearted. She cherishes two lucky rescue cats.

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Kittens without a future until scooped up and brought into the bosom of Fran's home. Well nearly into the bosom, but not quite. You see Joe, Fran's husband, is not as enamored of the cats as Fran is. They have a place and purpose, but that place and purpose is not anywhere near where he is sitting.

However, in order to keep Fran in the marital bedroom with him, a compromise was agreed. One of the cats, the best hunter, would come in with them for the night. "As long as she sleeps in her basket,"Joe said "She is not coming on the bed under any circumstances."

Unfortunately cats don't understand rules. Basket versus bed. No contest.

Especially when complete with nice warm bodies to snuggle up to.

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Eventually, after fending off the cat nibbling their ears, purring her gratitude for being allowed to share her slumbers with them and dragging her out for the umpteenth time from underneath the covers , they all drifted off to sleep.

To be woken in the early hours by World War 111 going on in their bedroom as the cat spat and and hissed and pounced around the bed.

"That's it. Out she goes" demanded Joe "I've had enough. The cat's useless. I need my sleep."

Several hours later they stumbled out of bed to step on to the remains of not just one mouse, but two. Now that definitely is a Top Cat.