I've spent 2 weeks off work, enjoying Cary's company forthe most part,
although towards the end of the day dealry wishing Joel would take Cary out
somewhere and give me a few hours of peace & quiet all to myself.

But today,I go back to work again, and I'll have a good 8 hours of peace and
quiet, and the odds are good most will be spent all by myself.

I'll miss my little bear terribly. Even in the two weeks I've been off work
I've been able to watch him grow up - just a little - but still, he no
longer hits people so hard, and doens't throw things so often, which is what
he was doing before Christmas. He now yells at us instead if he's angry or
frustrated, which is a far better for all concerned. We still can't
understand what he says, but he's defiantley saying *something*.

Shmogg has taken to escaping outside at every oppurtunity. I can't say I
blame him. Whislt IBKFergus seems to *welcome* Cary's attention, Shmogg
hates Cary's loud rampaging ways, and just wants t to sit in the sunbeam
without being bothered (I know how he feels). Unfortunately there aren't
many places in our house that Shmogg can do that in without Cary finding him
and 'loving' on him as only a toddler can, and while Shmogg is relatively
safe behind the kitchen's baby gate,t ehre are no sunbeam spots in the
kitchen and its hardly a good cat secret hidey hole. Poor old beast - at
least he still comes on to my bed at night and purrs on my chest. He's a
loyal beastie, even if his house has been invaded.

IBKFergus, hwoever, loves the noise and movement only a toddler can bring to
the house. There's always lots of thigns to chase, and usually a willing
co-conspirator to bring the greeblings out from their hidey spots. IBKFergus
will voluntarily put herself in the firing line of an eager and sticky hand
to be petted, but won't put up with any of that sort of rubbish fromt he
adutls int he house. Whilst Cary can grab her tail, rub her fur the wrogn
way all up her back, pour ypughurt over her and do all sorts of other thing
sthat would have our eyes removed one clawful at a time, IBKFergus not only
likes it but comes back for more. Clearly they are bonded in ways I don't
understand. I may feed her, water her, and change her box, but Cary is most
definatley IBKFergus's one and only hoomin.

Fluffy is also benefitting from Cary's growign abilities. Cary now insists
he feeds himself. He gets about 80% oif the food into his mouth, the
remaining 20% goes down his front and on the carpet, for which Fluffy is
truly grateful (and so am I, I'd prfer Fluff to clean up breakfast than
having to get it out of the carpet myself). Fluff has also found someone
willign to throw her ball endlessly up and down the hall, he may not be able
to throw it so far as Joel or I, but Cary doens't get sick of the game so
quick,a nd finds the whole process of Fluffy hurtling down the hall  trying
to catch the ball that hasn't even been thrown a yard hysterically funny.
The only draw back is that Cary is convinced that Fluffy is a pony. Fluffy
puts up with it stoicly, and we try not to encourage Cary to 'ride' Fluffy
when she's actually standing up as we're nto sure whether a dog's back can
take tjhe weight of him. But most of the time Cary seem scontent to sit on
her back, horse style, while she's lying down, and thinks its also
hilariously funny when she gets up, and slowly makes him fall backwards.
Good ol' Fluff tries to extracate herself from being 'saddled' bt is gentle
enought o amke sure Cary isn't hurt int he process. I couldn't ask for a
more gentle and loving dog to look after the barepuppy.

I ought to be getting ready for work, but for once the house was quiet and I
can type without having Joel pacing int he background wanting to play World
of Warecraft and/or sticky little fingers trying to reach the power button
("If Mummy or Daddy are sitting in front of the screen, and I press this
button, they says funny words"). I like the peace and quiet of an early
morning - but on the whole would prefer the sleep in and spendng another day
with the family, both the two foot and four footed members. If only the
mortgage manager would understand.....

Vicky