Thursday, 7 January 2010

"Ask Bert" Again! More Agony..............

Well, as promised, we are going to do another of the ever popular “Ask Bert” agony columns today – what do you mean “oh no not that again!” This is where I offer advice to unfortunate friends who have written to me in desperation. My vast experience in counselling and my caring nature are ideally suited to helping these poor saps. Right, where shall we start – I’ve had a large postbag.

Dear Bert - I have a problem. How can I get my staff to give me more tuna. They think I should eat kibble, with tuna being a special treat. So, how do I convince them that it's healthy for me to eat just tuna? Mario da cat.

Dear Mario – Kibble? Kibble? What on earth is that? I suggest you stop eating it with immediate effect. I make a point of not eating anything that I’ve never heard of. The only exception is if I’m hungry. Now as for the tuna – once they see you wasting away, I’m sure they will try to tempt you with all sorts of nice treats. Eat the tuna, but refuse the rest. When you are suffering from malnutrition and at death’s door they will see sense. If they try to tempt you with prawns or fresh salmon, then to get rid of the stuff, you should send it to me. I’m always willing to help out in such circumstances. AlbertTheCat.

Dear Bert – I feel insignificant. Everyone ignores me. Please help. Cyril.

Dear.... mmm.... whatever your name is. I can’t be bothered. What’s next. AlbertTheCat.

Dear Bert
- "My Mom's" vacations are almost over, so I'll be left at home looking out for my stepbrother and stepsisters. I'll miss Mom, but I have to find something to do between naps. Do you have any suggestions? Pirulo Furry.

Dear Pirulo Furry – what a strange name you have! I have diagnosed your problem immediately. Referring to your staff as “Mom” is the giveaway – it implies you look up to her, rather than down. Never forget, that we are in charge. They need to know their place. So, you must make “your Mom” feel guilty. Ignore her, apart from at feeding time of course. Just before she leaves for work, give her something to think about - try dumping a hairball on the carpet - never fails. If she tries to pick you up, bite her. I find a quick nip to be very effective. Keeps them on their toes. What to do while she is out? Shredding the furniture should ward off boredom. She’ll soon get the message. As for your stepbrothers and sisters, then I speak from grim personal experience – they are a complete and utter nuisance. If you do come up with any bright ideas for getting rid of them, then please let me know. AlbertTheCat.

Dear Bert – I am a “rescue cat”, and as such I don’t know how old I am and my staff seem confused as to when my birthday is. How can I find my age, and when is my birthday? Regards, Harold.

Dear Harry – it really doesn’t matter how old you are. I expect, like me you were born at a very early age. I suggest you think back to your earliest memory, probably your first prawn, think how long ago that was and add one to it – that should be near enough. The main issue is your birthday, after all we need to make sure you don’t miss out on presents. Now if you play your cards right, you should end up with two “birthdays” a year – your real one and the anniversary of being sprung from the rescue centre. The Queen has two birthdays a year, and what's good enough for her, is certainly good enough for you. Two lots of presents – can’t be bad can it? AlbertTheCat.

Dear Bert – I wrote to you recently regarding my embarrassing personal problem, which you so cleverly diagnosed as musophobia. Since taking your advice, I have taken refuge under the bed, and I think I am an elephant. In the strictest of confidence, please help. Name and address supplied.

Dear Anonymous - It’s you again isn’t it? - George from Manchester. I really do think you are a helpless case, in fact you are becoming a bit of a nuisance. Your pathological fear of mice may be incurable. I suggest you embrace your new life as an elephant. Practice standing on your hind legs and picking up buns with your nose. Once you have cracked this, run away and join a circus. AlbertTheCat.

Dear Bert – I am at my wits end. After forgetting my breakfast prawns this morning, the staff left home, and before they got to the end of the road they had a car crash. Both were taken to hospital. They were discharged after treatment and returned home to find the house had been burgled. Then he had a phone call to say that he had lost his job. As you can imagine they are distraught – what should I do? Tiddles.

Dear Tiddles – you should bite them! How dare they forget your prawns. AlbertTheCat.

Well, that’s my lot. This counselling lark is not all it is cracked up to be. One could get very depressed. Some of you cats are very mixed up. Take my brother, he's convinced he’s got everything under the sun. The only thing he doesn’t think he’s got is hypochondria. All this talk of prawns is making me hungry – I’m off. What a life! AlbertThe(caring)Cat.


  1. Oh Sir Albert - thank you so much for dis advice. I'm going on a hunger strike - starting right. No more KIBBLE - NO MORE KIBBLE! You are the best Sir Albert.

  2. You are very wise. Maybe you can tell me how to get rid of Fiona?

  3. Hi, Bert! I think that it's nice of you to take time to review our problems and give some advise. But, as a dear friend as you are for me, I have to tell you the truth: you are a lousy counsellor. Sorry, the truth sometimes hurts. Otherwise, you're a pretty good blogger, so I recommend you continue talking about your daily experiences with your usual witty.