Frodi was working on his difficult second release, Dark Side of the Semi-Digested Pigeon. He still had a feather stuck to his paw giving the impression of a 18th century writer about to compose a sonnet.
Kato was doing sad-dog-is-sad, gently sniffing her lead every time I passed and then glancing at me.
“If you’re bored” I said “Go and hold Frodi’s ears back while he throws up”
“I’m never that bored” she grumbled