Pussy’s in the well (sort of )

The cat fell out of the cherry tree and demolished the fountain. This may sound like a French proverbial folk tale from which one learns wise things regarding the folly of cherry tree climbing in the palace garden, but in this case it describe the true fate of our fountain; that is we believe this is what happened.

I got up early one Saturday morning to head off to the car boot sale and Mitch was playing boisterously in the garden. He was sufficiently hyper to give me a farewell punch as I passed. I left him springing confidentially up and down the cherry tree swinging from perilously thin branches probably hoping to surprise a sparrow. As far as we know a few minutes later the fountain was down. The whole lot upturned. As we had never bothered to stick it together assuming it’s own weight would be sufficient to keep it upright, it was perfectly possible that a significant weight (Mitch is significant) would be enough to start a reconstituted stone avalanche. Happily and miraculously nothing was seriously damaged including Mitch and the fountain stands proud once more bonded by B&Q’s all purpose builders adhesive. Phew.

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