The act was largely forgotten, until a couple of weeks later a small sprout merged from the soil. We figured there was a good chance it would be mary of sorts, so warmed to it and took delight in watching it develop into a small plant. Then one day my flatmate Tim and I were chatting and we decided it was time to re-pot the pot. Give it a more formal space. No, it wouldn't have flowered, being a bit late in the season, but it was cute.
Anyway, long story short, my cat Miu chewed it down to virtually nothing in the time it took us to try find a spade. I was mad. She got a hiding. Days later the bugger was back in the game, but Miu has been pruning her every time a new leaf forms. I had to let go. It's now back to ashtrayville. The weed keeps going...
Moral of the story? Life can actually be created by some stoned and drunken bastard fumbling his way out of a hammock. Yes, and then pretty much destroyed by a hungry pussy.
