The Monster Baby, as anyone who reads this blog often will know, is (like her owner) a dog of severe terribleness. I thought Muriel was exaggerating slightly when she described how the dog ate an entire couch.
This only confirms my view that my old friend is now officially batty. Do you know that she also requires virtually no sleep, and can be found cheerfully packing dishwashers and clearing ashtrays at seven in the morning, after a night of carousing that would flatten a horse? I can't help being envious: I crashed at around midnight, and it was only the next morning that I found that I had missed most of the jollifications, which included a late-night raid on a local restaurant, and the arrival of more interesting people. I did, though, get a chance to meet a handful of Muriel's wonderful, clever friends, and to eat half a bucket of her delicious vegetarian bobotie (as soon as she sends me the recipe, I'll post the recipe on my food blog).
I'm so glad I live in the Cape now and can visit my friend more often. We have the best time, Mur and I.