The Mossie and the Ivy

So this is Christmas...

No, says the voice, you wait.

But how can it be better than this (even if I did get bitten by someone less than half my size)?

My week started badly. She went out for an evening. The Blonde comes to take me out for a walk and gives me my dinner, but even so, I EXPECT it to be MBNAD woman. When she got home, she had someone with her. A tall man. Young, a bit like the little one but bigger and younger. Lots of long, curly hair. I think that they are her Litter. This is the one whose smell has been around in this house but I have never seen him. He looks at me sadly, and then kneels and strokes me. He sits hugging me for a whole hour. This is nice. I think he's sad because of the old white dog. The voice tells me how much she loves him. In the morning he leaves but I'm glad I met him because he always smelled nice.

Just before the end of the week she appears with the little one and THAT Cat (in a suitcase!). It says something deeply rude. Before bed she's got lots of boxes and cases and packages ready filling up the hall. But we don't go anywhere. If she doesn't tidy this lot up we'll all be falling over. She's not usually this messy. Perhaps it's the influence of that cat. I watch carefully so that she can't escape withtout me but eventually we go to bed.

"Night night Mossie, Night night Bella, Night night Humbug"

I fall asleep smiling to myself. Even I can't be scared by someone named after a boiled sweet.

In the morning, I get worried that she will pack the car without me. But she doesn't. She gets me into the car and then Boiled-Sweet-Cat. We go first - I'm so happy not to be left behind. Then all the packages. And boxes. And bags. And more bags.

Wales, Powys, Home.

Bags, bags, boxes, packages all reversed out of the car. Then me and Humbug. Oh dear. I've just remembered what I did to the catflaps. I expect to get a hardboiled stare.

We go to the market. Eddie Stickmaker is not there but there is a grand stall with meat and cheese and MBNAD woman fills the basket with some nice things. I expect they're not for me.

Seem to have got away with the catflap. Apparently, the big piece of wood over the hole formerly known as a catflap stops the cat going out and getting squashed on the road. Which is a Good Thing.




On Saturday morning, we bundled in the car without the cat and set off for a drive to a place where we wait for a huge car that doesn't travel on the tarmac road. Instead it goes on its own stony road with two skinny rails for its wheels to run on. If we'd had one of these yesterday, me and Humbug would have been able to stretch out a bit and perhaps she wouldn't have had to travel in a suitcase. Perhaps we'd just come to look at the big car or maybe she's going to get one. Shame it doesn't come nearer to the cottage. Anyway, it's quite interesting to see all the people so I watch them all. And then, oh yes, it's the Tall One. He's here - let joy be unconfined.

Sunday she took me and the Tall One and the Little One visiting. There were lots of people: big ones, little ones, young ones and old ones. And two dogs. One has issues and was locked in the car so I only got to smell him on some of the people. But the other one, little and white terrier and very bouncy, lives there so it is full of his toys and bed. He tells me which are his people: Kind Man, Tall Lady, Playstation Boy and Little Girl. MBNAD woman calls her High-maintenance-god-daughter. They all make a fuss of me and Bouncy Brucie doesn't mind.
Which is why I thought that sniffing the parcels would be ok. Bouncy Brucie turned into Bolshie Brucie and I had to hide behind Kind Man's legs.

On the upside, I got lots of hugs. Even if they did laugh at me for being scared of someone less than half my size. Not so much a terrier as a terrifier.

"Night night Mossie. Night night Bella. Night night Humbug".

This is Christmas,says the voice. Or, more properly, Christmas Eve. She's going to be busy so don't worry, it will be very special. Even more busy. Oh dear. But I've got The Litter to look after me and fuss over me.

After dinner, when I think that it's night night Mossie time, they get dressed and go out in the cold but without me or the cat. Off to the place with dead people in the garden. When they get back it's really late and I can't keep my eyes from closing.

"Night night Mossie. Night night Bella. Night night Humbug".

This is Christmas. says the voice. Make it special.