I was thinking about what constitutes `work’ recently. Certainly looking after two ragdoll cats and a house-bunny couldn’t really be called hard graft.

Coming downstairs on Christmas morning I was faced with a scene resembling the aftermath of a team of rampaging reindeer having been driven across the carpet. On further inspection, I found that it was only the Norwegian Dwarf rabbit who’d had escaped from her corral in the corner of the kitchen-diner the previous night and run-a-muck.

To add insult to injury, one of the cats had left me an eye-wateringly, pungent poo in their litter-tray, neither of the felines had shown any inclination in using the indoor plumbing all week! And to top it all off, I watched in horror, a retching cat throw up on the kitchen table. Season’s felicitations to you too I thought!

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