Melting for Barney

I would have blogged earlier, it's just that I melted in the heat of the Squirrel-fired boat and it's taken two days in the freezer to reconstitute myself. Just in time to go shopping, in fact, and to get home and start packing away. As usual, I had Ranger ferretting round sticking his nose in my Bags for Life (slightly optimistic branding in my opinion) and then suddenly he retreated, furiously chomping his jaws. The little sod had only bust into the doughnut box and nabbed one without per; relieved of any further temptation down there, he then moved his attentions upwards, counter surfing for my iced fingers. He is so shameless! And what with Susie's ice cream mania growing by the day, such that she's whining as soon as she has sight of a lolly stick, it's getting a bit like a mad house. Sorry, a more mad house. 

Given these circumstances, why on earth do I continue with that incredibly dangerous weekly activity, looking at the RGT Croftview website? Why do I run even the slightest risk of finding number six? Of course, I'm really only checking on who's gone out and who's come in - it's wonderful to see long-stayers finally get a home, for instance - but sometimes, as with DonutBoy, you see one and you just know...that you are completely insane. I know five is our limit, I know there is no more room in the boat or the motorhome, I know that I don't want so much PetPlan paperwork that I could redecorate the downstairs bog, but that was before I saw Barney. What a cutie. And he's the same age as my lot. 

Even the name works. You see, unlike the one syllable name crew on Indigo Dream, we're a two syllable name operation here - Susie, Arthur, Miffy, Monty, Ranger....and Barney. Oh yes. If he's still there by Christmas, my stocking could be greyhound shaped...