helenandjo.com

I’m being Jo this afternoon, sat at her desk under the stairs while she’s away in Feffield (which I’ll leave her to tell you all about when she gets back). You’d think that this was a solitary existence, but no, I’ve been rushed off my feet. First the doorbell rang and it was a man with a parcel for Jo, and just now it rang again! Whoever can it be? I thought.

It was a man from Battersea Cats and Dogs home who I assumed was going to be collecting for charity. He asked me if I had any pets, I said no (it seemed obtuse to say that my cat lives with my parents, and I don’t think he meant the robins). He asked if I was thinking of getting any. I said that it wasn’t very practical, again without going into details about my complex two-homes life. So the man went away. He must be a new door to door charity collector who instead of asking for you cash dishes out puppies and kittens! What would I have got if I’d said yes? Did he have a bag full of guinea pigs maybe?

Trackback This Post | Subscribe to the comments through RSS Feed