It turns out that it is bumble bees who have moved into the bird nest box on the summerhouse. On the one paw, it’s very good news that they aren’t wasps, but on the other paw it does mean they are here to stay. Mum has explained that they won’t bother us unless we bother them and as suggested we make that small corner of the garden out of bounds. There is nothing makes a dog want to use a place as a regular choice for pooing than being told your human would rather you didn’t! We’re still having discussions on that one.
I did point out to Mum that if she keeps planting bee friendly plants and growing everything organically than it’s inevitable that the wildlife will think it’s worth moving in. I suppose it’s a shame they aren’t honey bees as they could have been encouraged to move out to a more palatial setting. Apparently, it’s unlikely they would have moved into somewhere as small in the first place. Our ‘semi-detached’ bird box wouldn’t have been to their liking.
Mum has taken my new boomer ball outside for me to play with. So far I have no idea why she thinks it’s a good idea. I’ve watched her push it around the garden and gently tap it towards me, but felt no inclination to send it back. Shadow is unconvinced too and she’s a real ballaholic when given the opportunity. I think maybe I need to invite one of my friends round who has already got one. Then they can demonstrate why they think it’s good fun and I can decide whether or not to join in.
Is it any wonder that Aristotle can’t work out what is going on with his legs when his mother sits like this?
To be fair he was struggling more yesterday so Mum has him under observation.
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