I’m kind of ashamed to admit this but I haven’t done a lot around the Great Urban Ark this month.

The Terrible Twins : Ozzie-Prince-of-Darkness (left) and Zeena.

It’s not that I haven’t been busy – I have – but as you well know, busy and productive can often be two different things.

To start the month off two members of The Henny Penny Gang have simply vanished. We have tried looking for them but they seem to be well and truly gone to wherever chickens disappear to when they disappear. 

There are other homes around us with chickens and it’s possible they’ve simply joined a new gang but I’m afraid none of us are quite brave enough to ask anyone if their collection of poultry has increased by two. 

Especially given that THPG are all brown shavers – and were you to line them up with twenty other brown shavers none of us would be able to identify them.  For the time being our egg consumption has dropped somewhat as we wait for spring to replace the fugitives.

So I am sure you can understand my annoyance recently when I opened the gate to drive to work only to find I was beaten to the exit by the Indian Runners.  In the time it took me to get in the car and drive to the gate Quackers and Scooter had decided to go for an early morning constitutional. 

This meant having to send Master 11 to stop them from going any further while getting some food to entice them home with. Unfortunately when I got home that night they were waiting at the gate to make a second getaway forcing Master 17 to feed them while I got inside the gate. 

I suspect those ducks are a bit brighter than we have been giving them credit for since it doesn’t matter which way the story turns out each day – they are on a winning streak.

Meanwhile back in the Ark the Slobradogs have finally been ousted from their throne of power by The Terrible Twins.  Yes the teenage felines have indeed managed to bully, pounce, scratch and miaow their way into Top Critter of The Ark spot.  Neither kitten is at all perturbed by the appearance of a dog and will hold their own against a bark or a growl with no more than a bottle brush tail. 

The final insult came when Ozzie-Prince-of-Darkness curled up at the end of Barney’s bed.  Barney lay there shaking and glaring accusingly at The Man of The House and I when we walked past. I swear I heard a sigh of relief when Ozzie decided there was more sport in chasing a ping pong ball and got down.

However The Terrible Twins have had to undergo  serious bout of feline training – which yes I admit is somewhat of an oxymoron, cats being cats –  of late. 

On rare occasions I throw convention to the wind and allow The Offspring to have dinner on the sofa  (I think it’s important for a family to eat together without TV when they can). 

Trouble began however when The Terrible Twins realised there was food within reach and after being removed from laps and sofas several times by annoyed Offspring took matters into their own paws. 

This involved climbing the back of the sofa, snaking along the back of said sofa and then pouncing on Master 11’s fork – knocking utensil and sausage to the floor and racing off with it.

Despite Miss 10’s protestations that it was proof we should all join her in her self-inflicted  vegetarianism, nobody was impressed.  Least of all Master 11 who has a particular fondness for sausages.

The Twins have now been introduced to a squirter bottle filled with water  – and the battle of wills has well and truly begun.

Until next month, stay well, stay warm, stay dry.