It’s been a very animal-filled week or so but I probably won’t get a chance to write it all in one go so I’ll go with the wasps (and by extension the ‘cat’) and see if I have time to talk about all the mouse escapades another time (and maybe also the frog and chickens and spiders – seriously, lots of animals).
When we were all eating dinner one night last week there was a wasp flying round the dining room in that drunken way they have at this time of year. It seemed a little odd (the windows have been shut recently) but not extraordinary. However, the next day there were another couple of wasps. And then another. Hmmm.
I was just giving Tyger his dinner (or what passes for dinner with Tyger, who only really eats some specific fruits and bready products) when a foot appeared through the ceiling and a lump of insulation fell onto the sofa. Tyger was not at all happy about this (the shrieking from me and my sister probably didn’t help) and cried for some time. My dad was fine. Embarrassed but fine. He’d delivered the wasp killer and retreated quickly when a few wasps started to get annoyed, which meant he missed the beam he should have stepped on (like I’ve said before, frack the whole rule about prepositions and ends of sentences). Our neurotic tabby was pretty freaked out by the whole thing and stalked around the room all saucer eyed for a while.
What’s really interesting is the way Tyger’s tried to piece together what happened. As far as he is aware there was a noise and a hole suddenly appeared in the ceiling. We all shouted out as something soft fell down onto the sofa and afterwards I asked if the cat was okay.
So, apparently: a cat fell through the ceiling! This is the version of events Tyger figured out from everything and he’s been telling anyone who will listen about it since: ‘Cat a falling ceiling.’