Post Script ...

Does everybody know about those special council rubbish pick ups that happen a couple of times a year?

The ones where you dump in the front yard all the shit that is too bad for the op shop and too large for the bin?

And then all the povo ferals (students excepted) suddenly appear from nowhere and steal it before it even gets to rubbish pick up day?

Flashback to about half an hour ago:

2.30pm: Paul puts Ansett freight cat carrier, cat bowls with food remains still in them (umm ... our cat died about 18 months ago) and cat scratching post in front of house.

2.35pm: cat carrier and feral cat bowls taken by car driving by. Scratching post is left behind.

What? Our scratching post not scratch-tastic enough for you? Well screw you cat lady!

Hello Cool World

The doggy "something big is going down" radar has been working overtime as we get ready to move to Toowoomba.

Over the past three weeks we have been encouraging the dogs to grow their fur and threatening them with visits to Uncle Warney at Advanced Hair Studio if they don't.

(I think Leo and Warney would have lots in common)

We have also updated their wardrobe for their new life in chilly Toowoomba.

Kinta: "It's Poochie Daarling"

(Gucci/Poochie ... get it?)

Leo: "What. the. **ck. Is. With. These. **cking. Ducks?"