A blog of grumpiness, stilts and skin.

Friday, January 06, 2006


Pounce de Lion is a wonderful whuss of a puss. But my, she's adopted some fussy ways while her mum has been home on holidays.

The finicky feline turned her nose up at some perfectly good adult cat food last night, which inspired Hazel to muse if we should return the mollycoddled moggy to the more easily digestable pussy pâté to which we'd let her grow accustomed over the past 2 weeks.

When I suggested puss was merely trying it on and that The Burp, who gave us the pampered puffball for Christmas, had advised me that even an exclusive diet of cat biscuits would suffice, Hazel called me a liar.

'Why is it,' I protested, 'that when I relay counsel from someone you respect, and that advice happens to diverge from your own vile viewpoint, you shoot poor messenger me?'

I fully expect to arrive home this afternoon to a pantry crammed with kitten caviar.



Blogger True Blue said...

Obviously this Burp character must have no idea what she is talking about...cough cough...

Although I love a good messenger shooting.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Blogger Grump Les Tiltskin said...

Considering Pounce! thinks not twice about crunching on a lawn beetle, or chewing on the stalactite of rancid chicken fat that dangles beneath my BBQ, it is my firm belief that if push came to shove she'd settle for far less than the perfumed truffles she gets served on a platter each night.

Friday, January 06, 2006

Blogger hazelblackberry said...

My God there's some exaggeration going on here and it shall be refuted over at Bex. In other news, you will be glad to know that our lovely furball climbed on to the desk via her favourite method: clawing her way up my legs and back. Ouch!

Friday, January 06, 2006

Blogger Grump Les Tiltskin said...

A wriggling, writhing hairshirt.

Nothing less than you deserve.

Friday, January 06, 2006


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home