The fifth housemate

A while ago I confided a nightmare to my friends. It was about a day working at Eddie Catz, but everything looked a little different. I dreamed that there were numerous dangling lines of drying tea-towles and the room was thick with the stench of washing detergent.  To make things much worse, the moistness of the towels were palpable, even in my dream. Plus, every time I needed to serve a customer, I needed to pass through a line of these awful towels.

A lot of you may be laughing right now at the ridiculous nature of this nightmare, but it has a deep-seeded past from my childhood. When I was much younger, I didn't have a whole lot to do on Saturdays. If I wasn't playing on my N64, I would complain to Mum that I was bored, and if her suggestions for amusement were not substantial, bored is how I would remain. Saturdays were also laundry days and somehow the smell of the washing powder just made the day slow to a crawl. Even to this day, the smell reminds me of feelings of monotony and discomfort.

Imagine my pain when I see our banisters lined with moist laundry and that familiar smell piercing my nostrils. I was in a grump for most of the morning. I didn't want to talk or be in the same room as anyone else and just wanted to be left alone. That is, until I met Napoleon.

There he is!

I saw him in G&T's. The moment we locked eyes, I knew it was fate. His previous owner didn't take very good care of him though as his snout was all torn and messy. But we all saw potential in the young pig, so we snatched him up and took him home with us. We are taking real good care of him too, Mark and Lucy got out the old needle and thread to make him whole again.

'Pig surgeon Mark' is on the case.

We have taken a real shine to him, even dubbing him the 5th housemate. But we let him off paying rent. Because he's a doorstop.

That is genuine love in Mark's eyes