…bygones

Kev and I, as a way of saying ‘thank you’ have been having our friends over, two-by-two, for dinner. We’ve always loved giving dinner parties; something about it is so civilised. We bring out the dining room table (or extend it, really, as it’s always out), cover it with my grandmother’s table cloth, candlesticks to create ambiance, and sit in the bay window of our lounge.

Wine, laughter, good friends and hopefully good wine. We fill up on yummy goodness that Kev and I have cooked up, and then ‘retire’ to the other half of the lounge after dinner for more wine, then coffee.

See? It’s all very civilised, and dare I say, ‘middle-class’.

Last night we had two more guests for dinner, who brought their baby labrador puppy, who was, I must say, very well behaved considering her age. She’s scared shitless of the cats though, and Miles, who, by all accounts has always been a bit of a coward, properly launched himself, fur spiked and bristling, at this intruder.

I had to say I was very surprised at Miles, but rather than chastising him for attacking a guest (even a puppy-guest), we simply put him in the other room and then thanked him later for trying to protect us and his house.

Dizzy, on the other hand, remained invisible until the offending creature had gone home for the night.

I expected the pair of them to be angry at us for letting a furry guest into our house, and terrorizing them thus, however, Miles looked at me with relief, as though he was content in knowing that the danger was gone and that we were safe.

Good little guard cat. This is just one of the many instances where I am convinced that Miles is actually a dog in a cat suit.