Am I a ferret indeed! What kind of question is that to ask a dog? It all began because my ticket for the Channel Tunnel says ‘cat, dog or ferret’. I would have thought it was blindingly obvious that I’m neither a cat nor a ferret. Have you ever seen me trying to climb down someone’s trouser leg? I don’t think so. At least my grandparents didn’t do me the indignity of asking whether I was a cat. That really would have been too much.
5pm yesterday afternoon I marched up to my granny and said “Please can I have my tea?” “It’s only 4pm.” She replied. “No” I said, my tummy is definitely saying it is 5pm and on matters such as this, I am never wrong,” except apparently I was wrong as I’d forgotten the time difference between England and Belgium. I ended up having to do some negotiation on whether it would be possible to phase in the hour rather than force it all on me in one go. Fortunately for my tummy, granny agreed and we compromised on 4.15 for yesterday but then I have to hold out until 4.30 today. By Friday I will be able to forget the whole time difference thing, although I may just see if I can push my luck and have tea early. At least now that I am in England, no one will find it funny that I call it ‘tea’.
I was left on my own while granny went to check that grandpa was ok. There I was, pacing up and down worrying and eventually she came home with the news that he is absolutely fine. It was even better as my mistress’s sister came round and gave me a biscuit too. I followed her round for a bit to see if she would give me another but sadly my ration was just the one.