It's mid-evening. The Silver Vixen and Gorse Fox are enjoying the TV recorded during the week. (You don't honestly think we would watch, let alone enjoy, any of the execrable trip that is actually broadcast on a Saturday evening).
The phone rings.
It's Urban-cub and she's excited.
She was phoning to tell us that Pistol Pete had proposed to her, and that she had accepted. She was, understandably, over the moon. We too were delighted. He will be a nice addition to the family, though we did ask:
1) Is he drunk?
2) Is it April 1st?
3) Will he look after us when we get old?
We didn't actually get clear answers to any of these questions as, by this time, the Urban-cub had been overcome by emotion.
What a lovely end to the evening. Congratulations Urban-cub and Pistol Pete.