Monday, 14 December 2009

Don't Bury Your Head in the Sand!

Good day to you all. I'm still basking in the afterglow of last weeks epic victory. The celebrations went on all weekend. Tabby and Ginger Tail are still grizzling about the result, but I think following their little chat with Mad Harry and Slasher Sid, we will not be hearing too much from them for the time being.

Anyway, a new week and we must move on. As you know, I am a very keen ornithologist. Well, I saw a real strange site this morning. About four gardens along from us, they have hung some bird feeders out in the big tree - all full of nuts and things they are. I decided to investigate, so I hid behind a bush, and you'll never believe what I saw. About six or seven great big green things arrived and started stuffing all the food. "What on earth are they?" I thought. I was plucking up courage to pounce but thought better of it - I mean they had nasty red beaks that looked capable of delivering a painful peck! They had long tails and a red and black collar, and my word did they make a dreadful row.
Only one thing for it I thought - I must go to see wise Old Black Tom. As well as being a Returning Officer beyond reproach, he is also the fount of all knowledge in these parts. "Ring necked parakeets, my boy, ring necked parakeets" he said in a knowing voice. I guess they get their name because of the terrible squawking noise which makes you want to wring their necks! Old Black Tom tells me that they originally lived in hotter climes, but decided to move over here to England after we invented global warming. We've made such a good job of heating things up he tells me, that they can now survive the winter. What a wonderful thing this global warming is I thought - must have been invented by cats - far too clever for humans.

Old Black Tom did utter a word of caution though - if things carry on like this he said, all manner of other things might start moving in soon - he reckons something called an ostrich will be next, and do you know what, they are over eight foot tall. We will need to be a bit wary of these things he warned - not to be messed with. I can see what he means, after all, wouldn't they look daft perched on the telegraph wires and you wouldn't want to look up when one flew over would you - doesn't bear thinking about - and what about the size of birdtable. Apparently they have another strange habit - when they get worried they bury their heads in the sand! Personally I dive under the bed, but I suppose they are a bit too big for that.

I thought if all these other things start coming over here, we'll soon be full up. What will we do then? Perhaps we should start shipping things out to make room? Old Black Tom thought this was a very sound suggestion, and said the first thing he would unload were the dogs, as they serve no useful purpose. Seems a pretty good swap to me. I don't think an ostrich would be any more trouble than the snappy little Jack Russell that lives next door. I'd like to see the owner taking it for walkies though.

Well that's my lot for today. I will have to give this global warming lark a bit more thought. Not now though, it's all very taxing, and I think I need a nap. I had a bit of a scrape around in the muddy flowerbed before I went in, and as I walked across the kitchen floor, I heard "the one I don't trust" comment on the mess - I think he was referring to my carbon footprint, or should that be pawprint? Oh how I laughed! What a life! AlbertThe(environmentally sound)Cat.