The furry members of our family have not been too well. Despite the fact that their humans would like to think that they live in an animal Utopia, things could not be further from the truth.

Domino usually takes preference when it comes to raising his issues. You all know by now, that he has had a very hard life this past year. He had no say in his life being packed up before moving to the hinterland. In fact, life was so bad in Botrivier Village, that once we moved a short distance away, he walked back to his old home – 3 times! Third time round, his humans have laid down the gauntlet, and kept him house bound for a full two weeks. No snifaris outside. No hunting critters. No. He had to stay indoors and suffer the indignity of a litter tray, with both his humans watching him attend to his ablutions. The humiliation of it all, was only surpassed by all the injuries he had to recover from. With hindsight, which for Domino is only ten/ten vision, with one eye only, as the other one is infected, life on the street was hard. That abscess on his left leg, and his ripped claw, and the bald patch on his head all pales into significance compared to being told off for messing too much cat litter from that abomination of a box. For Domino, life is not good.

Truffle is also suffering a few indignities. Her Human entered her into a Doggy Instagram competition, which she went on to win. Now winning is great, one would imagine. Her prize was a hamper of goodies. A couple of treats, some toys, vouchers for fancy stuff, which her human says is too expensive, even with a discount voucher. The organisers were a bit slack in sending off her prize, so as an apology, they included a bright red VEGAN leather bow tie. Which her humans made her wear. And she had to lie still for her GrandPAWrent to take a photo, when all the while, there were bird mite invested Guinea Fowl to be chased. For Truffle, life is not good.

Then there is Tam. Tam used to be one half of Tim and Tam, until Tim departed for birdy heaven. For a very short but glorious while, Tam was a spoilt only child. That was until Angel and Oreo moved in. Angel is a special needs child. She is meant to be a Jardin Parrot. Now, when you Google Jardin Parrots, you will find images of bright green birds, with vibrant orange foreheads and bits of black in their wings. Not Angel. Angel looks like an uncooked chicken drumstick wearing a pink sock. Angel is one of those birds you hear about: she plucks out her own feathers. Her new Humans took her to a special doctor, who charged them a pot of money, to tell them how to best care for Angel. Her cage got moved. Her new improved diet is given to her in creative ways which is supposed to stimulate her. Angel simply gobbles up her new enriched special food, and squawks for more. Once her tummy reaches bursting point; she then settles down and plucks out a few more feathers. That is, until the Pink Sock of Shame gets pulled over her body. Wearing a pink sock (so she can’t get to the new growth) is almost as bad as having to pose for a photo, wearing a VEGAN leather bow tie. Or doing your ablutions with your humans watching. For Angel, life is not good.

But now, I digressed. I was actually going to tell you about Tam.

Youngest Son has always liked birds. He had the experience of taking Tam from the nest, as a new hatchling, and placing him into an incubator, where he was then hand reared by his Foster Mother. Tam came home a very pampered, but also very tame bird. Tam has a cage, which he only uses for sleeping in. Most days the cage would be open and Tam would roam the house, or sit on his Human’s head and groom his hair…. one strand at a time. Tam did get himself into trouble with his Human once, when he bit through a rather expensive cable that his Human apparently needed to connect things to his laptop. Apparently, it was an important cable, because his Human’s boss was not very happy about it, and made his Human replace it from his own pocket. Despite that, life was good. And then, Angel moved in. Angel, in her lovely soft pink fluffy sock, turned his world into a great big happy red heart. Tam, a cockatiel half Angel’s size, has such a crush on Angel. Angel, in return, has such a crush on her bowl of special diet. Tam is not handling the rejection very well. He is an overcomer, however. He tenaciously tries, tries, and tries again. For Tam, life is not good.

With Angel, came Oreo. Oreo is a tiny little Beagle Yorkie. He is the size of a Yorkie but has the colouring of a Beagle. Hence the name. OK. Let me be honest. He is supposed to be the size of a Yorkie. But Oreo is a little chonky. Chonky is a word his Humans use to describe him because he is NOT fat. He is chonky, there is a difference. Oreo is a little ball of mischievous energy. His favourite thing to do? Chasing after his little plastic ball with a bell inside that his Humans throw for him. His most tedious thing to do? Begging his Humans to throw his ball just one more time. Because of the chonky business, Oreo is also on a special diet. (What is it with that household? Why are all the animals on a special diet?) Last night, Oreo’s Human, the pretty one with the long black hair and little fingers that like to tickle his tummy (not the grumpy one that had to buy a new cable), made him bowls of pet mince. It got cooked up, and portioned into single serving containers, and then left out on the counter to cool down, so it could go into the fridge. This morning it was discovered that some truant cat managed to get into their house, and it ate up all his dinners! Nothing left for him at all. Life is really bad for Oreo. His pretty Human was so annoyed, that she would not even throw his little ball for him, instead she complained plenty about having to cook new mince, which she did noisily, banging pots around.

Thank fully, all the Humans in this family are well. They are planning another Family Experience at the end of April. This time, we are not going away. Instead, we will visit at home, with all of us piling into Oldest Sons house in Somerset West, with a few days at our lovely little farm house as well. The money we would have spent on accommodation, we will use to behave as tourists. We will go for wine tastings, have lazy lunches, visit attractions, and take beach walks. At the end of the week, some of us may have to go on a special diet, or wear the Kaftan of Shame (Demis Roussos style), while we stretch over Pilates balls. Either way, for us, life is good.