Nice One, Cyril

Oh dear, Cyril, what have you done?  

I spotted the squirrel on the gate from the the kitchen window, commented to Gary, and then he froze (Cyril not Gary).  We thought it was because we were just feet away.  However, it lasted a little too long so we went to take a look and it became clear he was stuck.  Gary shot off to get some sturdy gloves and I got my phone.  Then we set him free.  

I got absolutely soaked this morning, and Tommy too obviously.  I went out in plimsolls and coatless; foolhardy when the BBC weather online had advised me of a 93% chance of rain.  Doh! 

Back to the oncologist this evening.  He likes to see you twice to make sure you understood what you were told the first time before asking you to sign the form giving your consent to be poisoned.  I did.