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The freesia bed is at its best at the moment and the scent is wonderful. I was musing about picking a bunch to give to a friend when I noticed that Ollie was in freesia sniffing mode. I panicked, remembering how he'd murdered the daffodils. But I needn't have. The cat had obviously decided that freesias were not nearly as tasty.
Later that afternoon I decided to open the window to get the full benefit of the freesia scent. Then I noticed something. Deo, the cat next door, was sniffing the freesias with a look of bliss on his face. They made such a pretty picture, I thought. It didn't last. Ollie was half asleep on the telly and saw Deo out of the corner of his eye. How he hates that cat. With one flowing movement Ollie was off the telly and through the window. He landed on Deo's back and began the fight of the century in the middle of the freesia bed. Yes, I tore out of the house, along the drive to the freesia bed. It was far too late. I had never seen such a mangled mess. A rotary hoe couldn't have demonished the bed better. I could have wept. It didn't help that the cat was sitting alonein the middle of the bed, smirking in triumph. He had cat hair hanging from his teeth and a freesia bud stuck in his red collar.
I walked gloomily back down the drive, preceded by a galloping cat. I tried to reassure myself that there weren't many flowers left to mangle. Then I noticed something I'd forgotten. Ollie had stopped by the back door garden and was kissing a tulip bud. Sigh. Do you think he'll ever learn to climb roses?
Editor's note:
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