I'm typing this with a spaniel on my feet. Since the mother of all mothers and second son left for places abroad, I've been surrounded by a herd of spacially challenged geriatric housepets. Every time I move they all give me the evil eye, get to their feet and follow me to wherever I'm going. It's like troop movements on four legs. And it's driving me round the twist. especially since Benson has embarked on a protest sit in....or maybe "sit-on" is the better term.....he's taken to lying on my feet, abviously working on the theory that I'll be pinned to the ground and unable to escape to another room.....or another country on the other side of the planet. Are we feeling guilty yet, mother???