Answering the hard-hitting questions – primarily: “What were your pets doing during the autumn months?”

With Wilf’s uncle having returned from Japan, you better believe he’s now rocking the latest in Far Eastern feline fashions

Walked into the kitchen and was met with this sight. It’s almost like they’re trying to tell me something… 🤔🍖

Hello darkness, my old friend.


In which Giles attempts to fit increasingly ridiculous dog chews into his tiny chops. 😂


Giles’ favourite spot (to wit: as close to John as he can physically get.)

Me and My Shadow. 👥 Wherever Minerva goes, Giles is sure to be close behind!

No expenses spared: Giles’ dog groomer was flown in all the from Finland.

Finnish exports (aka the temporary return of our good friend Lorna!). 🇫🇮

Wilf’s novel approach to sitting on a chair. 💺

Alf making quite clear who the bed belongs to.

Everything Alf touches (or sees, or basically that just enters his sphere of existence) is his kingdom.

Sometimes Giles forgets how to dog.

“A delivery for the dog? I think there’s been some mistake.”

Sunbathing beauty.


It’s a hard knock life for Alf.

Rodney! The tiniest dog with the biggest attitude.

He tired himself out terrorising our animals.

New ‘do by Rum Barber.

Rest of the set here.

Also around the time John went full Lannister.

Reminder that – despite one of them looking a jungle beast and the other a Jim Henson puppet – both these animals are technically the same species.

No favouritism whatsoever.

Giles’ fancy new haircut courtesy of Poochini’s!

So silky smooth!

“No fair!”

I know cats like to seek out warm spots, but this is ridiculous. 🔥

Wilf fell asleep hugging Alf’s tail!

Family visit featuring John’s superlative hostessing.

“I notice that you’re in my house,” Alf appears to say.

Halloween with Amy and Sean! (Better costume pics of Scream and Buffy).

Also, the singular worst blooper from my Drew Barrymore reenactment. 😂

On the night itself, we attended a screening of John Carpenter’s Halloween at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery & Museum – which, on paper, sounds like the ideal event for maximum spooktacularity. Alas, the reality was like listening to a sub-aquatic production of the Clangers when it quickly emerged that no one had bothered to perform the most basic of soundchecks. Coupled with a bar that was equal parts overpriced and understocked, we soon found ourselves on the verge of a riot, with people leaving in droves and those remaining behind drowning out what little of the movie we could hear with outraged cries of “SHITE!” for the next hour and a half.

Things got marginally better when we pulled our seats into the outside aisles in the centre of the hall (the front being as migraine-inducingly loud as the back was farcically inaudible), but – having paid £18 a ticket for myself and John – you can be damn sure that I was emailing for a refund the very next morning!

Mistress of Disguise! 🔎

King of the Box. 👑

Kisses for the birthday bear! 🎂

Headed on a hiking holiday to the Isle of Skye and preparing to see if gym fitness in any way equated to actual athleticism. 😂⛰

It also turns out cats make terrible assistants when it comes to packing for a trip. 🎒

Spice up your life!

Mel T.

And finally: Alf looking like a literal ball of fluff.

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