I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's something funny going on. She got up to let me out for a wee this morning and then went straight back to bed. And stayed there for ages. Most unusual. I think she must have been reading her new book or something. She must have got to a really good bit because when the man from Amazon rang the doorbell she came downstairs looking what I can only describe as "all flustered". I knew that it must have been a really good bit when she went straight back up to bed again. At 8.45 in the morning! That's nearly lunchtime. I find it difficult to comprehend that anything written by Nigel Slater can be that absorbing. With the grim pallor of death still hanging over the house too, it shows a certain lack of respect for poor Mrs Snow I'm sure you'll agree. Pooh count: just the 2, in my own personal anally retentive tribute to the dearly departed.

Has been round to our house again, this time picking up Mrs Snow the hamster. Unlike Stanley, the cross-dressing transexual guinea pig that was really a she. Mrs Snow was, as per her name, a female. She lived a peaceful and simple existence, in her little cage on George's desk and now rests cocooned in cotton wool in a Nike Air Max Triax box at the bottom of the garden. The rest of us pets, Speedy, Gizmo, Muffin, and myself of course, scan each other anxiously wondering who will be next. Nervously awaiting the arrival of the next pair of trainers, and pondering how long it will be before it's box and it's macabre but eco-friendly contents will be going to join the others underneath the hedge. RIP Mrs Snow. Why not donate towards her marble and diamond encrusted headstone by hitting the PayPal button on me Dad's website? Just as a mark of hamster respect like? I mean it won't get wasted on a big piss up or nothing, it's for legitimate out of pocket funeral expens

Spring is in the air and the sap is rising. Only mildly chastised for pissing on the kitchen floor overnight, I think she must be going soft in her old age. He didn't spend the entire weekend chained to that bloody computer for once, which meant that I got a nice hour and a half walk down by the river yesterday with ample rolling and eating opportunities. Hurrah! Scared a few ducks and then ate their bread, the soft bastards. Found a copy of Razzle in the woods and went home. All in all not a bad day. Pooh count four, about average.