Friday, August 31, 2012

Naked cats

For the first time in my cat-loving life I splashed out and bought a little tag with her name and phone number.  I got it two days ago. Last night as I was giving her a little tickle I noticed that she had stripped at some stage during the day - no collar, no little bell and no tag.

I sent the monsters out searching the garden before school but to no avail.  It has scarpered.  (Not that they concentrated on the task at hand.  I imagine it is tricky to look while bellowing at each other and stripping the wattles.)

It is right up there with the theory about how long sunglasses last before being lost being inversely proportional to how much you pay.  Cheap crap lasts forever, a living testament to a desperate moment in a servo, while any slight amount of style or quality is doomed to be lost in sand or broken in a tripped over handbag in a millisecond.

I could at this point say something dry and ironic but frankly, I can't be fagged.  Flat acceptance is all I can manage.

The new collar has two bells.

Hazard ahead - unlike a tiger, at least you don't lose a leg

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