The Tropical Godfather (see response to previous blog) is quite right; the Gamekeeper, with his chest-high rubber waders, is just what is needed. Or a dear little BOAT. It is unbelievably wet here; it has rained with such grim persistence that we have a leak in the spare bedroom; all the defenses are being tested to the limit. The dam, however, hasn’t actually burst. Yet. But the ground is so wet that the lawn actually squelches underfoot, and that means huge volumes coming down the burn. Miss Kit had a small adventure last night; I was awakened by an imprecation from which I gathered that she had bitten the Professor and he was taking exception to it. Some minutes of curious manoevuring in the dark followed; and it eventually dawned on me when the little creature bumped up my way that the kitten had somehow contrived to get herself inside the duvet cover and was getting increasingly anxious about finding a way out — hence I presume when she came across a recognisable portion of Professor, an arm or something, she bit it through the duvet in the hopes of attracting his attention. I succeeded in unwinding her from her prison, and peace descended once more.