This is my Mum's cat Amber. Cute, no? Just mooching about in the garden, playing with string, sharpening her claws, doing the obstacle course that is my parents pebble-bubble-fountain-pond-thing.
Ah, but what's that noise?
I must investigate. Stalk-y, stalk-y, stalk-y.... Huzzah! A frog!
** Interlude: This is the bit where my Mum rescues the poor frog and secretes him in the undergrowth away from Amber, partly for the frog's sake as it's clearly still alive, partly because frogs give off a noxious liquid when attacked, which causes cats to lose their teeth. Previous cat-based experience has taught my Mum that cat dentists are very expensive, as there's no such thing as Kitty NHS, and that cats with no teeth make a right mess when trying to eat, hence the move a few years back from carpet tiles to lino in the kitchen. **
Damn you woman, where's my frog! I saw you come over here and....
Gotcha!! *evil cat laugh, round a mouthful of frog*
** Interlude 2: This is where I yell "Muuuuuuuuuuuuum, the cat's got the frog again!" and my Mum performs rescue number two, deciding on a more sheltered accommodation option for the frog until such time as it's sufficiently recovered to make a proper getaway. **
This is the stand-off that ensued. The frog fortress was propped up on the piece of tile you can see on the grass until Amber decided to 'paw sweep' under the gap in an attempt to obtain said frog, after which the frog was imprisoned for it's own survival. Having been foiled in this latest endeavour Amber set up watch over the frog until she could be coaxed inside for biscuits. At some point around midnight.
And trust me, you don't want to know what happened to the mouse that tried to set up shop in the garage...
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