I regret to inform my readers that the pup Maxwell, rescued so heroically by Mr S in his SAS drive through the night, in order to save him from a life of um..... abuse.... is now being abused egregiously by the Silverwoods, as you can see from this picture. Not only is he forced to live out his days in a PINK doll's house (believed to belong to J-M as she has cornered the market in all things pink), but also he is forced to sleep in a tiny corner of the cat basket, partly on top of the black and white cat (sorry - we do not currently know the names of these felines, so Mr S needs to enlighten us).
Seriously though, young Maxwell does seem to have fallen on his feet here, doesn't he (PINKness aside) and is obviously settling in quite nicely in his new home. We gather he was named Maxwell because at the time of his arrival, Mr S happened to be singing "Bang Bang Maxwell's Silver Hammer came down upon his head".
A treat for us tonight, as we all dash off down to Hastings to check on the Pud Lady, recently bereaved of the Stamp Man. She is OK and coping OK. We dogs get to chase about in her superb wild wooded garden in the dark - mmmmm... Badger smells!
Deefs
