After sleeping through the night, Poppy’s naughty alter ego took charge. Within minutes of descending the stairs she found something foul, no doubt left by one of the cats, to roll in. This set the tenor for the day, for she resented getting cleaned up prior to breakfast. All day she alternated between cherubic and possessed before finally crashing to sleep about 8 p.m. Poppy’s not yet settled into suburban life. She misses running like a banshee in a paddock. I’m so in love!