And we took the living room apart and cleaned it unmercifully to within an inch of its life. We even painted some of the walls because the paint came off with all the scrubbing. All the animals fled in terror, apart from Yama who sat on top of the cat tree surveying the chaos around him, like this:
When we had collapsed in a heap, Brythen let himself out (by standing up and working the doorhandle with his paw: why do I have lurchers again?) and he charged madly round the garden. Then he came storming back in with muddy feet and danced on the clean carpet. Alas.