That’s long enough. My patience has worn thin. I went to look through one of the clearways to see if I could see where the smell was coming from but I got a little tangled in the clearway covering. Trying to wrest myself from the grip of the covering I perhaps pulled a little hard because they came down with a snap and covered me even more. As they fell, unfortunately they brought down one of those tall things my ‘The Her’ puts her flowers in. I hope they’re good with puzzles.At last a key in the lock. I shot across the room and reached the clearway just as it opened. I shot out. “Oscar” they shouted in unison and my ‘The Him’ tried to grab me as I went past. Last I saw of him he was on my level struggling to get up. I admit I shouldn’t have sniggered as I looked at him because before I knew it my feet were feeling warm and the smell was very close indeed. I finally looked down. My feet were black.
The smell was coming from the surface of the road which had been freshly covered in black stuff. I turned and pulled my feet from the road one by one moving back towards the grass of the garden. The heat was leaving my feet but now my pads felt quite hard. They were covered from pads to ankle in black smelly stuff that had been spread across the road. As I got to the grass I lay down and tried to remove the layer of black that had attached itself to me. I went home through the still open clearway and as I hit the wooden floor my pads were tapping as though I wore the Longlegs shoes. It was undignified to have people hear me coming. I went to my ‘The Her and expressed my dismay that she would not try to keep me in, and dismay that she did not make more of an effort to keep me in.She as usual feigned indifference to my words as though I do not make myself understood. I’m sure I do.
So, I finish the day sitting by my ‘The Her’ as she gently tries to soap the black stuff they call tar from my pads with soapy water. This could be a very long job.
Go for your gun pardner.
Honest, it’s a motor car usually.
A magic week to you all with Hugs Galore x
It was three lights ago when I saw them heading out of the clearway to their chariot. My ‘The Her’ even shouted goodbye but I was too busy yawning and stretching to respond properly, I did however send a thought in their direction that I required some nice fresh chicken. Sometimes they’re quite clever and catch the thought, other times they’re just so obtuse it a crime.
I occupied my time properly while they were out with sleeping, stretching and sleeping some more. After all, you must be very careful not to overdo things there days. I was lying on my ‘The Hers’ sleeping place basking in the warm light that comes through the clearway as I didn’t want to go through to where she has those rats of hers. They can be very rude sometimes. Anyway, I have no idea what she sees in them at all and should really be reprimanding her for not being available whenever I want her. Even my ‘The Him’ seems to have more time than she does. There will have to be a reckoning soon.
Some time passed and the light had moved a bit. I roused myself as there was a need for food. Roast rat on a stick appealed but there was no chance of that. Just then the clearway opened. In came my ‘The Him’ carrying what looked like a kitten box followed by my ‘The Her’ saying “Hello my baby, see what Mummy has got, Such a surprise.”
“It is a kitten ” I thought, ” but she’d better be referring to some nice tender chicken or else”………. She wasn’t. Bags of shopping were strewn everywhere in their food room but nothing came out for me. Instead they gathered round the cages in the room of seats and started making the strangest cooing noises. My ‘The Him’ ran out and came back with a new cage like that of a Chinese bird, sat down, opened the cage door and proceeded to place some pieces of paper and food inside. My ‘The Her’ opened the kitten box. I was about to tell her no kitten was going in a cage in my home when out of the box she drew ‘Another Rat’. Not just any ordinary rat either, it was obviously a kitten and quite small but it’s ears, Ohh it’s ears, they were big. I’m talking BIG here. They were like conch shells sticking out. Already I’m alternating between boredom and anger. After all, what need have we of another rat? What need have we of ANY rats I ask.
They spent more time putting the creature now called Bernadette in the cage and trying to stroke it before standing the cage on top of the big cage with the Cruella sisters in. I’m half past bored now so I wandered off to the food room. I could smell no chicken for which there will be payment but I did manage to find a rather nice parcel of ham which tided me over till tea time. I even felt so much better when I heard the squeal later ” Julia, that cat, YOUR cat has had my lunch”. Soooo satisfying.
Anyway, I’ve decided not to let them out of my sight for a while. Three rats in the house is three rats too many albeit one is too young to be rude yet. I’m waiting till they realise that it’s chicken or nothing next time. And in the meantime I’m going to occupy the knee of one or other of them and get all the attention I can.
I had walked to the village to check on my interests and seen small groups of the local cats and kittens along my way. In the centre by the Fursty Ferret sat Ginger or rather stood like a Longlegs reading from a paper tacked to the wall. “What are we to do Oscar?” he said “we can no longer be friends.”
“What rubbish is this Ginger” I asked, ” how can we not be friends after having been so for such a time?”
“Ti’s no longer to be allowed since this new Cat Council has come into being.”
“Cat Council? What are you blathering about Ginger.”
“Read it” he said.
By Order of the Cat Council.
Let it be known in the world of Moggies that the Council has in it’s wisdom decreed changes that are to be implemented immediately.
No more will there be mixing of breed.
From now on Pure White Persians are the true breed and are selected for rule. Only they shall sit on the Council.
Ginger and marmalade cats are to be the troops under the direction of the Council and who are to enforce the rules.
Black cats are the workers and are to perform all the duties decided for them by the Council and told to them by the troops.
Manx Cats are to be pitied and laughed at.
No groups are to socialise with each other since obviously only Pure White Persians are worth socialising with. We, the Council will decide whether anyone from one group can rise in the ranks to another- simply they can’t.
All worship shall be decided by The Council. We shall decide on a deity suitable for each rank. That deity shall be governed by the rules of the Council.
If any kitten should be found playing in a way thought not suitable or playing with a kitten from another group, that kitten can be beaten by the Deity’s Pastor of the flock. Especially if they are found to be playing with others of the same sex.
Any older kittens found to be with others of the same sex will be ostracised from all groups and deemed to be unclean.
” But this is patently ridiculous Ginger” I told him.” We’re far too civilised to live this way. Just ignore it, obviously a big joke.”
“But……” he said, and at that moment I woke up. I laughed to myself. How silly, I thought. After all, no-one could live like that could they?
It’s for you.
Not a good idea to say “Where’s your nose Amelie?” Excavation due.