Lockdown Week 3 (Mon)

MONDAY

First day of the Easter holidays, and the house is quiet.

Bertie-Wooster appears for breakfast, scratching furiously. He has a good scratch at the top of the stairs, then stops halfway down for another go. When he comes into the kitchen, he starts again. 

I ask the gathered throng – Satchmo, Bertie-Wooster and Mouldy the goldfish when we last gave the cat his flea treatment. I know this is a pointless question as I’m the only one who ever knows. And they’re unlikely to respond anyway.

I wander around until I find the husband, then ask again. He looks confused.

The 12-year-old appears, also scratching. 

Are vets open at times of crisis? 

I scowl at Bertie-Wooster, who looks sheepish.