Something quite funny happened today. Mark managed to step on the cat and Watson in two successive steps. Both animals sank their teeth into his feet, so he was howling and skipping not knowing which injured foot to lean on.
It is terrible to laugh, because I am sure that it’s not a laughing matter, but I couldn’t help myself and had to sit down on the floor so I wouldn’t fall over because the look on his face was priceless, as well as the looks on both the cat’s and the dog’s faces as they scurried out of danger.
That is the danger of living with animals. It is not all fun and games, you know. Sometimes they have a knack of putting tails and limbs where you’re about to step. Then you’re rewarded by a yelp and then a snap. Watson has snapped at me, of course. No dog-owner can avoid that happening.
Now Mark is lying in the sofa with his feet up and big band-aids on both feet, and he glares at me whenever I see it and start to giggle again. I suppose I should be supportive and understanding in this his hour of need.
Instead I had to go up to the office where he could not see my giggles, although I’m sure he hears it downstairs. I’ll go down and placate him later when his pride has mended a little bit. Maybe he can then see how damned funny it was.