Return of the Monsters

They are all home again. It was peaceful while it lasted.

It was absolutely pouring when I collected them. I later found out that over an inch and a half of rain fell in half an hour, which as an aside caused flash floods in London. I could have calculated that myself by wringing out my clothes.

Because I have so many cats, and several are quite stroppy to boot, I get to go into the cat enclosure to help retrieve them.

Charlie and Oz were first. You'll no doubt be pleased to know that I splurged on a rather nice carrier for them to share. We caught Oz no problem, but once he felt the rain he started to fret. Charlie took five minutes to catch. I couldn't see for rain streaming into my eyes. Charlie also objected very loudly to the rain.

That rather nice cat carrier is bloody heavy when you put in two fat cats. I broke the handle straight away and had to lug it out in my arms to the car. The car was parked some five minutes away, and somehow I parked it in a small ditch. Which flooded.

I made that journey another three times. Accompanied by screaming cats who did not approve of the torrential rain they were being subjected to. Especially when I had to put their carrier on the flooded ground in order to open the door.

Then came Lila. Lila hadn't been too impressed with the kennels. Apparently she sat morosely in her enclosure, not making a sound, and drooled all day. You'd think she'd be pleased to see me.

Not a chance. She hates the rain too and didn't want to leave. We dragged her out of the kennels and tried to persuade her that the car would be drier. Except she hates car travel even more than she hates standing in the rain and so she sat in the flooded ditch and refused to budge.

It was still pissing down. By this point, I was soaked through to the skin and was past caring about the state of my clothes. Good thing really.

I picked her up and popped her in the back. She took offence at this, tried to bite me and then leapt back out and landed with a huge splash in the flooded ditch. So we tried again. And again. And once more for good measure. It was still raining.

Nine month old rottweilers aren't just heavy and wriggly and bitey. They are completely insane, knowing no physical fear. Their brainpower is questionable though. So when she ran head first into a fence, we took our chance, rammed her back in and slammed the door shut.

Then the bloody rain stopped.