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desperanceI thought Mac had grown bored with String-Game. He used to come to bed every night when I did, back in the old house, just to chase a string across the duvet for ten minutes. It was a very splendid game, and he was mighty.
So I duly laid in suppplies of string when we moved here - and meh, not so much, really. He played in a desultory fashion for a while, and hasn't been seen at bedtime for months now. As I say, I thought he'd grown bored.
Not so! It was the quality of my string that disappointed!
Last week we fetched home a Christmas tree, that was all bound up with string. A length of which has made its way into the house, and - oh, joy! String!
He is so enamoured, he will play by himself, without mortal hand at the other end to tug it. So that's all right.
In more Barry-related news, my closet is snoring.
*(It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the paws beneath.)
So I duly laid in suppplies of string when we moved here - and meh, not so much, really. He played in a desultory fashion for a while, and hasn't been seen at bedtime for months now. As I say, I thought he'd grown bored.
Not so! It was the quality of my string that disappointed!
Last week we fetched home a Christmas tree, that was all bound up with string. A length of which has made its way into the house, and - oh, joy! String!
He is so enamoured, he will play by himself, without mortal hand at the other end to tug it. So that's all right.
In more Barry-related news, my closet is snoring.
*(It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the paws beneath.)