Last week we had a surprise visitor. Mum was clearing coffee cups out of the dining room when she saw what she thought was a leaf on the tiled floor. But suddenly it leapt in the air and she realised it was – a FROG! 
I spun into action to catch it for her but she unceremoniously shoved me into the kitchen by which time, of course, it had hopped out of sight. She was frantic me or THE CAT might catch it. Moi?
I wouldn’t have harmed it, mum, I would have brought it to you so you could put it back outside. She finally caught up with it – under the wine rack of all spots – and carefully wrapped it in a towel and set it free in the garden.
Then it was all ‘how did it get in, how long was it in, was it the cat, did it come in the back or front?’ Well, I didn’t fetch it in and I don’t see how it could have got in the back otherwise, seeing as we have gates two metres high. I blame THE CAT, minx that she is. Caught it, brought it in, didn’t like the taste or something and let it go. I hoped we might keep it as a pet – pretty olive thing with black spots, not very old. I could have had a friend…
