The House Slugs Are Back

Judy, dear old thing, has become slightly incontinent in her old age so Bert and I are on high alert during the night hours. One woof has us leaping from bed to make sure that the good brown dog gets outside in time.

The other night it was me up at half-five in the morning. While Judy was outside watering the garden I took the opportunity to have a pee myself. And it was while I was sitting there that I noticed two dark smudges on the wet room walls. Two slugs, one minuscule, one merely tiny.  I disposed of them, not like four years ago when I flushed all house slugs down the toilet. Nowadays I'm much kinder and I left those babies outside to make their own way in the world - whilst secretly hoping a blackbird would eat them first thing.

Next evening, I'm in the kitchen, making biscuits, (Bert begged me) sleeves rolled up, covered in flour, the very picture of a devoted and kind wife. Then I feel this soft plop on my forearm, like a drip from the ceiling. I look up. Nothing to see there. I look down and there it is, a tiny slug, translucent, a half-incher. It's the same breed as the wet room slugs. Where the hell did it come from? Thanks be it landed on my arm and not in the treacle and walnut cookie dough. Not that we'd ever have noticed it.

Bert has taken Judy to the vet and she suggested that the incontinence might be due to a hormone imbalance. Propalin Syrup was prescribed and it has made quite a difference. Maybe it's my imagination but Judy also seems livelier, more energetic. even glossier. I'm thinking of trying her prescription myself.