Peppa is too bloody clever for her own good.
We’ve known for a while that she’s quite a smart cookie. She worked out opening the one-way cat flap while she was still a kitten. And she’s more than aware of the sound that her flea treatment packet makes, and scarpers if she hears it.
Today we learnt that she knows the sound of her cat carrier and will run away if she hears it. And that she knows the sight of it too, with much the same results.
But if you cover it in a sheet she’ll go in and out of it quite happily. So she is fallible. Unfortunately, it’s stupidly hard to get her secured in the box while it’s hidden, so you have to uncover it which means she sees it and is then under the bed hiding.
The plus side of all this is that we only have to take her to the vets once a year. The downside is she’s grumpy when she gets there. And, for the first time that I know of, she had to be held down by a nurse wearing gloves that even professional eagle botherers would say were a bit excessive.
I was so ashamed. Normally I’m pretty good at holding her in place while she’s jabbed. But today she bested me, literally seconds before I was about to say “Ah, putting me veterinary work experience to good use”. So in a way she saved me from looking like a complete bellend. But in another way, she showed me up no end.
And then, as if to get revenge, later this afternoon she thought Carole was going to throw a bag of crisps at her and so leapt from where she was in a blur of claws and fur. Unfortunately, where she was was directly over my groin.
I did not enjoy that experience.