At last, I am pleased to say that the house move is complete. There are still a few boxes left to unpack upstairs, but I can live with that for now. I just hope that one of them contains sauce pans and cooking utensils which are still proving somewhat elusive, but as my ever pragmatic son would say, if per chance they have disappeared into a black hole, never to be seen again and I do have to buy new ones, it will not be the end of the world.

Now the house that I have moved to is something of an ‘old, new house’ as the Cavaliers and I have actually lived here before. In fact this is the house where my children grew up and where two of my dogs were born. I did wonder if they would remember those formative years and all the happy times, (the dogs that is, not the children) and now, I feel that I can confidently say yes, of course they do.

Not the quietest canines in the world I freely admit, especially when they are in an exuberant frame of mind which, being Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, is how they spend a lot of their time. When the car drew up outside last Monday, however, their vocal rendition was really quite something!

Never ones to stand on ceremony, even the Dowager Duchess broke into a fast trot as all three careered down the garden path. Through the conservatory and into the lounge they charged, heading straight across to the window which is low enough for them to rest their front paws on the sill and bark at the dog walkers down by the beck. There was clearly little doubt in their minds that they had come home.

I, on the other hand, was still a wee bit concerned about the cats. As mentioned earlier, whilst we were waiting for our house to be vacated by the previous tenant, the cats went to stay with my aunt. For the first four days in their temporary accommodation, luxurious though it undoubtedly was, the girls refused to eat and were really quite upset. Now that they had settled, I was concerned about moving them again, coupled with the fact that I was unsure as to how the dogs would react. Would they still recognise one another?

Thankfully, my worries were totally unfounded as dogs and cats greeted each other with a cursory sniff and a swish of the tail as if they had never been apart. As for not eating, the girls were starving when they came out of their carrying crates and tucked straight into a hearty lunch, after which they made themselves very much at home. Pandora, the fluffy one, is now known as ‘Dora the Explorer’ as she has taken to hiding in and investigating the many shelves and cubby holes in the built in wardrobe.

Teddi, on the other hand, is busy practising gymnastics on her favourite cat stand/scratching post, which she has missed so much whilst it was in storage and of course, she just loves hanging around on the bannister, which is something that she has never experienced before. A little earlier, however, she did slide from top to bottom with her paws wrapped tightly around one of the wooden rails. I so wish that I had caught it on camera, her face was an absolute picture. So, all in all the vibes are good and I think the house is happy to have us back, if houses have feelings of course?

But, undoubtedly, the sixty five million dollar question is when do I let the cats venture outside? Opinions vary massively from immediately, to one week and some say to wait up to six weeks. What do you think and does anyone have any idea as to why some folk say to put butter on their paws?