Neighbour visits with dog.
Neighbour fails to mention his dog hates cats.
We have three. His dog has never met cats such as ours.
They ain't gonna take no crap from any bleepin' dog, especially since it's taken them two years to train ours to roll over and say "Yes Miss".
Cue a real life Tom and Jerry cartoon.
On the first circuit of the room, furniture, windowsills, neighbours dog, 'Tye', five times their size, assumed he was chasing them.
By the second, he dimly began to realise they were behind him.
By the third, he was looking seriously worried. Fourth, he was snapping snarling and yelping and trying to shake off the two clinging to him.
Ornaments flew in all directions, the Christmas Cactus, who had only just realised it may have just missed Christmas and was making up for lost time, found belatedly it was related to the Wright Brothers.
Neighbour went all red and flustered and yelled a lot. Yeah, right. That was gonna work. It's going to cost me a small fortune in Germoline for those scratches on his shiny pink head.
Viking Ornaments Eric The Viking (naturally), Gertrude, Ian & Mary, and ummm, the other one, flew through the air, obviously thinking " Valhalla at last ! ". Shattered dreams, bless, alas.
The last I saw of the lot of them was a yelping blur heading down the back garden pursued by three balls of fury and my neighbour. Pets, that is. Not disappointed Vikings.
I think.
I haven't laughed so much for ages. Christmas Cactus will now have many, many offspring. Valhalla, thanks to lots of Araldite, will have to wait.
Where, you may ask, was my Woofler? Under the coffee table with his paws over his nose.
The Wuss.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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