We've had a few problems with sock stealing, moss collecting, plastic bag hoarding and eating Pedigree Chum when the dog's back was turned, but all in all it was going well. But now, I fear, she has fallen into bad company.
A new cat showed up on the street a few weeks back. This caused quite a stir amongst the neighbourhood as most of us have cats and they stick to their own patch, meeting up occassionally to share, I dunno, cat gossip? But this cat clearly flouted the unspoken lore and swaggered willynilly all over the damn shop. Upon seeing him taking a piss in our raspberry stalks, Dad quickly deemed him to be villainous and named him Macavity. I gave him a second chance and decided he was more pirate-like, christening him Captain Jack.
Well, Captain Jack looks like he's lived some lives. He has one ear, half a tail and a limp. He gives off the vibe of having been in 'Nam. Like he was captured and tortured by the Vietcong, made his escape using only wit, cunning and the corpse of a fallen comrade and has never spoken of his ordeal to a living soul since - only to the ghosts of the Song Thrushes he's killed that plague his every waking moment. That, or he got hit by a car. Either way, he's fucking hardcore. He also looks like he might drink...and smoke. Crack.
And this is whom my precious has decided to admire. She watches him in awe as he slinks along the back fence, marvels as he pelts up the plum tree. What can I do? I suppose at some point you just have to stand back and let your kids make their own mistakes. But that's exactly where it went wrong with the Shih Tzu.