On Guard

It's been like old times here. It's that time of year again, the one before the fireworks season when the spiders appear in the house. She doesn't like them. She doesn't mind the small ones or the spindly ones but not the big juicy ones.

After a few communication issues - I was asleep, after all - I accomplished the task in paw. And very tasty it was, too. Why are they always so shocked when I eat them? Is that not what it's all about?

One of them ran at me the other night and then sneakily scuttled back under the chest in the sitting room. Slightly peeved about this, I had been keeping watch on the said piece of furniture so I was slightly confused when I got a shout and it wasn't going in the right direction; going to rather than coming from the chest if you see what I mean. Not only that, it was disappointingly lean; all legs and crispy bits, no plump, soft centre.

Obviously, the moment I'd finished my snack, I knew what was going on. It wasn't the same spider at all. Earlier this evening, I was asleep in my bed, tired of seeing Marmaduke sprawled out on my smelly blanket and being unable to get in there myself and I think that I must have missed out on some action. I say this because I've noticed that she's sitting with her feet up on the coffee table. I can say with some certainty that this is not a comfortable position in which to relax and I strongly suspect that my fast-food foe must have put in an appearance whilst I was trying to reclaim my bed. Such are the problems faced by a superhero; your personal life inevitably suffers when duty calls. No doubt that ginger-ninja will be slipping under the covers whilst I stake out the chest in the sitting room.