Arriving home from the pub last night, which I found myself under great pressure to thoroughly review as Ramsgate's newly self-appointed pub/entertainment Guru(ess), I discovered a big, fat tom-cat skulking around in my kitchen.
Now I'm sure most people realise what a trial the bloody things can be to remove, once ensconsed. All that running around the walls in a mad, frenzied, skin puncturing panic. At one point, it managed to bounce off of the top of my head, much to the distress of my scalp!
But I got it out in the end.
The following morning brought shame and the firm resolve to do my pub reviewing with a little less vigour as Crouching Tiddles is now no longer my firm and faithfull companion but instead, has taken to biting and hissing when I approach him.
I'm sure, after a few tins of tuna and bowls of full-cream milk, that he'll come round!
Coming Back With Front.
-
Good grief, this thing is still here? Doesn't Blogger ever put it's rubbish
out for the binmen?
6 years ago
3 comments:
You might try cheese.
My two little buggers love a bit of cheder
He's more a roquefort kind of chap. It's ok though, I think he's begrudgingly forgiven me.
Oppertunist thing's cats are.
You don't own them; they own you
If he could open a tin himself you wouldn't see him for the dust.
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