I decide I can’t leave Boris Johnson locked up in a tiny hutch for the rest of his life.
I stack plant pots up next to the Trellis where Boris Johnson has chewed a hole. I tighten the Eyelets until I am sure Boris Johnson is secure. I put Netting over the Gap in the fence where he escaped into the neighbour’s garden last time. I wedge an old basketball into another Gap. If by some miracle he manages to free himself from my Run he won’t be able to leave the garden, I am sure.
Boris Johnson escapes and disappears.
He must have come into the house and I search high and low. I search the bedrooms. I find Abigail’s cigarettes. I find new Zac’s stash of FHM. Boris Johnson has gone.
I am far too busy to spend whole days fiddling with a rabbit. I am beginning to lose my sense of humour.
Boris Johnson disappears for hours.
When Zac comes home from school he spots Boris Johnson lurking in our next door neighbour’s garden.
Zac and me go together to retrieve him.
We are not keen on our next door neighbours because they built a Giant Soundbox Kitchen Extension and sometimes it sounds as though we all live in the same house. Our relationship with our neighbours has never fully recovered.
Anyway we chase the Boris Johnson round and round their garden. Our neighbour’s children watch in apalled wonder. I think their relationship with us has never quite recovered either.
‘ Come here you little fucker!’ says Zac, good naturedly, making a dive for Boris Johnson.
Our neighbour winces and covers her little boy’s ears.
‘Don’t swear Zac.’ I hiss ‘They don’t like swearing.’
We catch Boris Johnson and take him home.
Zac says ‘Why are that family all so ugly?’
Boris Johnson is never going to be let out of his hutch ever again.
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