‘I’m not looking after her; I’ll have a husband and children; they won’t want her to stay’ argued the Pickle in the long raging debate over who would have Mug when she was old and smelling of wee.
Mug had imagined many scenarios as to what she would do when they were finally off her hands…and feet and mind. It was probably the most forward thinking and planning she had ever done in her life, for she had never had an adult life without children. She knew the day would one day come when she wouldn’t find empty cereal boxes put back in the cupboard or recycling chucked on the floor instead of in the recycling bag. On this subject alone, Mug’s imagination took more walks than Woofalina on a sunny day.
‘She can live in a tiny house in my garden’ said Roo thoughtfully.
‘But I want a bed and room in a house so if fall over one of you will be able to help me’ begged Mug as she stifled her upset.
……Not really, for Mug had already planned to take off when her youngest became an adult to work on a wildlife sanctuary with a young Swedish man called Claus and together they would rescue Lions and Tigers from poachers in the far reaches of Africa. There she wouldn’t be disturbed with ‘Mug can you look after the kids while I blow my nose’ or ‘Mug, what do I do, she won’t come home from town at the end of the day?’ No, Mug would Skype or do whatever electronic communication was invented at the time, to check in with her delightful darlings and pretend not to be self righteous while they despair at their own parenting and karmic children. She would sit with her pet Lion and Tiger (who wouldn’t piss or take a shit in the hallway) in full view of the camera and at the same time accidentally flash up photos of Claus’ solid Scandinavian sweet cheeks while Leroy poured her heart out at the difficulties of keeping everything tidy.
‘Mug! You’re not listening to me! You care more about your big cats and Claus than my life falling apart’ Leroy would say.
‘No not at all darling; these are as many fucks as I give’ Mug would say as she curled her fists into balls in front of the camera, pretending that the Lion ate her ten digits clean off.
‘But what if you get eaten by a hungry lion while you’re trying to save it?’ her monsters would worryingly ask.
‘Well firstly’ Mug would say, not in the least bit dramatically ‘at least someone would have wanted me and secondly I’d rather die in the mouth of a Lion than in some Nursing Home where you horrible lot would end up putting me. And at least my life wouldn’t have been wasted in vain, for we know my arse is big enough to feed an entire pride for a week.’
Leroy wouldn’t be able to say anything to that because she would know it was true.
After a few years stint of caring for her planet and the wonderful creatures upon it, Mug would head home and the monsters would be fighting each other to have Mug come and live with them and if they ever dared to have another fucking conversation/argument over who doesn’t want her ever again, she would hop on another flight and repeat the cycle all over again.