This is just becoming attention-seeking behaviour. He lies there in the water looking all helpless, knowing I’m going to get the spoon and fish him out again.

I did it this time, but I  also reminded him of the Fly Who Cried Wolf. Three strikes and you’re out (or rather, you aren’t) my little friend.

The only good part of it is that when I put him on the Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady tea caddy to dry out, once he’d recuperated he went straight to ‘Feel the Gladness of the May’, so perhaps correcting his earlier dire prognostication. The weather is still pretty good…

About ramblesofawriter

Writer, thinker, tea drinker.
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