Listening

This is Mr Kipling listening to Fred arriving home. Mr K had been busily chomping his way through the evening's vegetables and all my pictures were blurry in some part until this point, when he stopped munching to listen and figure out whether a predator was approaching. That's instinct for you. Fred, however, is not a predator.

I've noticed that he has a hair caught in his eye. The problem with small feet is that it's sometimes difficult to push annoying things out of one's eyes. I'll go sort him out in a moment.

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