D.O.P.-T.

I filled up the greenwaste bin doing some pruning in front. This entailed going up the driveway with branches and bagsful of smaller debris, including sweepings from the pavement/sidewalk. Soon after I started, the housemate came out to pump up a tyre that has a slow leak and then to make a supermarket run because the glop with which she adulterates her coffee had gone off. Poor Mama Violet was caught between us. She kept emerging, fleeing, finding some other horrid human task going on at the other end of the driveway, and fleeing again. She stalked across the street at one point but came back quite soon; the house is to let and I think the fence hole or shed entrance or whatever it was she used over there has been closed up. She hissed at me several times. But she survived; when I came out again in the evening with the dog in tow, she whisked behind the compost bins.

And now I have itchy scratches on my arms and itchy bites on my hands.