Clara had been an outside dog before she came to live with us (what with her family renting the house they were in and all) but lounges seemed to hold no mystery at all. She knew exactly what they were for as soon as she saw them.
(Ye gods my lounge looks filthy in the light of the flash!)
Did something just go click?
However, as enjoyable as a good sprawl is, should mummy sit down for even a moment, well, then there’s snuggling to be done.
So here I sit with my laptop balanced on one knee and the sound of gentle snores coming from the other.
It’s slightly awkward really.