Our little Rory ... the smaller and more fragile-looking of the terrible twosome .... has bitten back! We used to fear that the cute chap was slightly in awe of big brother Harv. It always seemed to be Rory who was being chased, always Rory who couldn’t quite make the leap from chair to table, always Rory who got to the favourite toy slightly too late. There was always the feeling that Harvey was boss ... big, brave (maybe even the lightest brother who led the way ... and, consequently, we were very protective of Rory, our baby tiger. How wrong can you be! Rory has flexed his muscles and decided enough is enough. Today he has decided it’s time to stand up and be counted. Hearing a yelp of pain, I rush into the sitting room, expecting to see Rory licking his wounds again after yet another playfight got too boisterous. But no ... Rory has Harvey pinned to the floor and is certainly giving as good as he gets. And this definitely signalled the start of Rory’s new regime. For the rest of the day Rory has Harvey on the run ... at one stage Harvey fled the room and it took about 20 minutes to find him ... seeking peace annd tranquillity under the shoe rack. Rory rules ....OK! For now!
