It was not a bad day for an investigation. It had been raining, but not the torrential downpour that had been forecast. Slightly muddy conditions are a welcome aid to digging efforts of course. The practicalities of keeping the hothot clean when one had a muddy underside could be dealt with later, was Marmalade’s view.
He was partial to a bit of mud anyway, he did not mind admitting to it, it triggered the young’un in him, it made him feel alive to be muddy.
And then there is Coffee of course, that live-wire from next door with her glossy black and white coat and endless energy to run around and be pursued. She is a mean digger, something Marmalade could certainly respect in a ladybun.
Lots of places to look at here. Very nice spot right under the hutch, lovely and low, a nice little squeeze.
Coffee flitting in and out of his lounge. As long as she planned to wipe her feet before using the hothot.
What’s that? Rain starting up again. Hm. Still. There are worse ways to spend an evening than washing one’s muddy bum, yesyes?
The Bunnington Post 