Spring is here.
I realised this fact at exactly 6.55am when the screaming started in the living room and the dogs flew off the duvet in unison and belted down the staircase like a furry, hysterical waterfall.
In this house spring means Albert is hunting
And Albert's favourite prey in spring is rabbit.
Baby rabbit.
Recently a few of us have been a little under par.
I remain tired and run down post viral infection, Albert has been off his food and Meg has had a lame back leg, but after the baby bunny had started its high pitch screaming in the living room we were all up and running like Oscar Pistorius after the gunshot.
There is something terribly human and upsetting about a screaming rabbit.
After a brief tug of war, the poor thing was fading fast, so much so that I had to finish it off by clacking it on the head with the copper kettle which is sat on top of the wood burner.
Naked and clutching a bloodied kettle at 7 am in the morning, I didn't quite look at my best
These animals will be the death of me
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| They were bunnies actually |
















