Hello again. I don't know where the time goes, it's Monday again. They seem to come round every week. I don't like Mondays. Although they are much the same as every other day for a cat of leisure like myself, the housekeeping staff are always more crabby than usual. They were getting on my nerves this morning, so much so, that I was up and out as soon as possible, stopping only for a light breakfast of prawns and biscuits.
I wandered along the back wall, and peered over into the garden next door. The snappy little Jack Russell came scampering up and said "meow!" I think he must be learning a foreign language - Ho Ho Ho, just one of my little jokes. Seriously though, he hasn't been quite the same since his highly amusing encounter with Riley. Talking of Riley, I wonder where he has got to. I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since he moved in. I went to investigate. As we know, it is hard to miss Riley, he is the size of a small lion. His house was still there, but no sign of Riley. After a while, I heard a terrible kerfuffle, whatever one of those is, coming from inside the house. Much hissing and spitting was interspersed with the most appalling language. The back door was flung open, and much to my amazement, Riley came out with his head held high, but unfortunately, his feet were held even higher. He landed in an untidy heap on the garden path. You can only admire the strength of his owner, how such a small woman managed to pick him up, let alone chuck him out is a considerable feat. Riley looked back, gave a defiant growl and strolled down the path."Where have you been recently" I asked. "She trapped me" he replied, "I've been confined to barracks. She's got this daft idea that she had to keep me indoors after they moved house so that I acclimatised to my new surroundings." "Yes, but what about all that noise?" I said. "Oh that, just a minor skirmish, old boy, I bit her" he said casually. "What did you do that for?" I asked. "Got fed up being indoors, so I thought if I made a big enough nuisance of myself she would eventually crack and throw me out" he said. What a clever cat I thought. "Anyway now that I am out, you can accompany me for a stroll round the patch old boy. I need to stretch the legs" he said. They don't need that much stretching I thought - he's big enough already.
"I'm feeling a bit peckish" said Riley, "missed breakfast this morning. Probably should have waited until after she fed me before biting her. Anything on offer round your place old boy?" Well, I would have been delighted to invite him in for a snack, but there is no way he would fit through the cat flap - I mean it is a bit of a squeeze even for a sleek and lithe cat like my good self. "Who is he trying to kid?" Who said that? How rude. I'll have you know I am in peak condition, if I grew a bit longer I would be the perfect size for a cat of my weight. Riley has got a head the size of a water melon, so there is no way he would get in.
I suggested we try a dustbin in a garden just along the road. Mad Harry and Slasher Sid often dine there, and it comes highly recommended. We walked up to the bin, and it did smell rather good, but unfortunately the lid was on. "Not a problem old boy" said Riley who by this time had got the scent of roast chicken in his nostrils. "Can't let a little thing like that stop us can we." He stood on his hind legs, put his great big front paws on the bin and gently lent on it. The whole thing went crashing to the ground spilling the contents all over the place. I was off and over the wall like a shot. The woman must have been out, because when I returned, Riley was sifting through contents. "Not bad" he said, "I think I'll have the mackerel heads for starter, followed by the chicken carcass, with the lickings from the cream container for dessert. How about you old boy." I had the same. After we had eaten our fill, we went for a nap on the shed roof before going our separate ways. Riley reckoned his owner would have calmed down and seen the error of her ways. I wasn't so sure, but I bade him farewell and wandered off home.Well that's my lot for today. Quite an exciting day really. Perhaps I should write a good dustbin guide, a sort of Egon Ronay thing for cats. I could grade all the local bins based on the quality of their contents. Riley would be my inspector and pop round unannounced to sample the offerings. Instead of stars, we could award "fish-heads". Imagine the prestige of having a three "fish-head" bin. Cats who after all, are lovers of fine dining would come from miles away. This reminds me of my favourite restaurant joke - "Waiter, there's a fly in my soup" "Don't worry sir, the spider on the bread roll will get it" Ho Ho Ho - Oh well, please yourselves. What a life! AlbertThe(gastronomic)Cat.
Dirt Cloud Rising
23 hours ago