I have nothing against pets. After all, I have a dog and a guinea pig [both by accident rather than design].
I was a little miffed the other day to discover there is yet another pet in the house, that was there without my knowledge or permission.
That fucking guinea pig has adopted itself a pet.
It’s the first case I have come across where a pet has a pet, but there is a first time for everything.
Minnie has adopted a fly.
It’s not one of your average house flies, nor is it a midge. It’s just a tiny fly. A sort of minnie-fly.
The two of them are inseparable. Minnie will occasionally sit on the window sill admiring the rain outside, and the fly will sit on her head and they can enjoy the view in mutual silence.
I asked Minnie what it was called and she said she had called it Zit. Not a name I would have chosen, but it’s not my pet.
Apparently it’s a male, which goes a little way to redress the gender imbalance in the house.
I just hope he doesn’t want to talk about football all day.