Now you and I know George isn't going to tear the squirrel apart but the family don't and they give me dirty looks. I am beginning to worry as George is closer than I have ever seen him to a squirrel, literally inches, when suddenly ... he stops ...turns around and wanders back to me, whistling a happy little tune. (A trick I taught him from The King and I.)
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In Devon on Sunday Husband had foolishly left the bag of George's food in an accessible place. In the blink of an eye two days' food was gone. 'Well, that's it,' we said, 'no food for you tomorrow.'
Husband weakened when we returned home late Monday evening and gave him a little bowlful. It obviously wasn't enough as George got his revenge the following morning waking Husband up at the crack of dawn. Thinking he desperately needed to go out Husband dragged himself from bed and went down only to find it wasn't a wee George wanted but breakfast.
Husband told him in no uncertain terms to go back to bed.