As a person, I feel rather blessed. Apart from my menagerie of children, three of mine, two of his, and my four grandchildren I have a family of pets. These include:-
My husband, Steve. I always call him "My pet" so I have included him here.
3 cats, Max a black siamese cross who hates my dog with a vengence, Fusspot, a temperamental stray tabby that my other cats brought home for dinner and who was made so welcome that he never left again and Gizmo a long haired black and white cat whose only interests are sleeping and eating.
I also have an african grey parrot called Zack who is an incredible mimic and leads the cats and dog a merry dance. He copies Steve and has his voice down to a tee, but he is a one woman bird and only I can handle him.
I also have a blue roan cocker spaniel called Dylan. He is about 6 months old, very boisterous and never gives the cats a moment's peace, hence the reason why Max hates him, Fusspot smacks him and Gizmo, well he is such a sook, he just runs away.
Dylan has just discovered he is supposed to be a gun dog and yesterday, came trotting into the house with someone's racing pigeon in his mouth. I assume he caught it himself, because I struggled to get him to open his mouth so I could take the poor wee dead thing away. He was sort of gritting his teeth the way Grommitt does and you could almost hear him say. "I caught it, it's mine, now go away and let me pluck these feathers in peace".
Speaking of feathers, you should have seen my back garden. I think he had been out there with the pigeon for a while because it looked like someone had had a pillow fight out there and burst the pillow. Feathers ere everywhere. Then he had brought it inside and gone behind the sofa where he hides all his trophies and toys and plucked some more.
What a clean up operation.
Just thought I would share this with you all. Bring a smile to your day.