Friday, April 27, 2007

Ferdinand and the man from auntie

"Hello Ferd, what'd he think, the man from the beeb? What'd he say?
"He said it was the best blog he’s ever read..."
"Wow really?"
"What he say about me?"
"He loved the colour..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"Thought I was the most handsome ginger cat he'd ever met..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"Loved my style, my polka dot bow tie and my centre parting..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"Thought Lil's rendition of bohemian rhapsody was superb..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"...course he's an Oxford Graduate so we had a lot in common -a meeting of minds...!
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"And do you know what?"
"What Ferd? What?"
"He's even taken some of my advice -well passed some of criticisms on. Did you notice that rudimentary table on Sky News...?
"Yes Ferd."
"That was my advice."
"But you went to the beeb."
"Well the beeb is a huge corporation, changes take -like a liner changing course in an ocean- along time to implement. But I said I hated all that running about they do on the news, the very next day there's a little desk on the telly for the news human beings to plonk their scripts on. Can't be just coincidence..."
"Wow, influential we are or what?"
"Definitely influential..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd? What'd he say about me? Ferd?"
"Oh yes a cat of my caliber..."
"Ferd. What he say about me Ferd? What he say about me?"


"Don't slam the door..."


"On the way out."

Ferdinand: There's just no pleasing some beings.

Monday, April 23, 2007

I've brushed me barnet, buckled me bowtie.

I've brushed me barnet, buckled me bowtie and I've blagged a berth on a barge with Billy to Bradford. I'm interviewing the bloke from the beeb about me blog.


Ferdinand: alliteratively speaking!

"Am I invited?"
"No, oh striped one."

Ferdinand: The illiterate.


"I'm the editor and I've edited. Plus your centre parting looks stupid. And further plus you're not Robin Day."


Saturday, April 21, 2007

The polar bears are marooned and there are no more fish in the sea!

The icebergs are melting. Deserts are expanding and there are no more fish in the sea. Human beings are polluting the earth. And the biggest most handsome ginger cat (and (I’m big enough to admit it ) the noble tiger is going to do a dodo.

I think there are too many human beings on the planet. If one human being flew round the world a trillion times, left the telly on and always used tesco carrier bags ...

"Streuth! What can I do for you oh striped one."
"I hope you're not writing anything controversial."
"Only you're banging the keys."
"A sure sign you have a bee in you're bonnet"
"Well it did have a lot of flowers on."
"My bonnet, me Easter bonnet with all the flowers on it!"

"Ferd. You've upset the Israelis alienated the Muslim beings, and changed every foreign speaker being's use of the English language, nobody Ferd, speaks or writes like you."
"I know I'm unique."
"It wasn't meant as a compliment."
"Well I was..."
"Anyway I'm the editor and we don't do controversy. A gossip column. A how to decorate your house..."

"I'm the proprietor and I write..."
"What are you writing ?"
"Nothing! Anyway there are three beings on this paper, Lil..."
"Yep. Lil the sleeping partner. We'll ask her opinion, she can have the casting vote."
"Lil's deaf."


"What, what?"
"Lil do you believe my writing should be uncensored?"you hungry?
"Yes Ferd."
"And do you further agree the only form of censorship is self censorship and I should be permitted to sometimes write about controversial subjects?"
"Yes to both Ferd."
"Ok Lil. Thank you Lil."
"There you go Doll, Lil has cast her vote and this as a democratic household...,
"Humph, still think fashion would gain more readership and be more interesting."

"Now were was I? The polar bears are marooned..."

Ferdinand: Environmentalist.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Learning the fine art of stiff legs.

The yew tree trunk blown by an ancient blast lists 45 degrees. A bough at 45 degrees to the trunk sweeps the ground forming a shady tunnel crossing the flagstone path. In the branch above the path sits Jim the graveyard cat, his tail swishing in irritation at the noisy juvenile bushy tailed rolands hurling fir cones from their position in the tree top. I jump up and join Jim on his perch.

"Alright Jim."
"Noisy little blighters." And a fir cone bounced between us to the path below.”

"How's Doll?"

A fir cone bomb released from the squirrel gang whizzed past Jim's ear.
"That was close!"
"I'll %$#%)~# swing for them one day."

A male human sat on the grass beneath us he was decorated with a blue bangle of barbed wire on his upper arm and rings of love and hate on his knuckles. He opened his red top and exhaled a puff of grey smoke. Marines, sailors... women on front line!!... Iran laughing... !!

"See that Jim?"
"Yep that female human with her top off."
"No not that."
"All that stuff about Iran and sailors beings being held captive."
"Can't #+.%^>~ read Ferd."
"Heard about it though; at the church coffee morning."
"Good stuff eh?"
"I reckon Ferd it was."
"Discretion always the better part of valour?"
"That stiff legged walk, you do that Ferd?"
"On many an occasion, got me out of some serious scrapes."
"Yep me too, stiff legs, then up the anti: a sideways swagger and standing me hair on end."
"And if that fails yell at the top of your lungs!"
"Yep works nearly all the time."

"Jim, I reckon these human beings are finally learning the fine art of stiff legs."
"Yep me old ginger hairball you're right there."

"And because the feline art of stiff legs was employed British human beings lost a rubber dingy, but in return got a few pressies and some grey suits. Not bad! Plus the sailor and marine human beings can earn a few pennies for their pension friskie fund."

"That Ferd is true. No loss of life, no country being bombed to bits and the captives are free to tell and sell their tail -sorry tale!"

"Perfect!" And a couple fir cones found their range, bopped us both right on the bonces.
"Right that is it, the final %4#+*X# straw."
And Jim shot off like a rocket.

Ferdinand: maintaining his dignity with a bump on his head.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Ferdinand in his easter bonnet

And because it's Easter (happy Easter) here's me in my bonnet! Fabulous. I am just too handsome.
Ferdinand: in his Easter bonnet.

Big Lil Queen of the felix tribe. I'm on the sofa! Martin's away which allows me the choice of inside the house or conservatory. He calls me...
"That smelly tomcat."
A charge I resolutely refute.

Anyway I was on the sofa in my yoga (matsyasana 3) position (very good for strengthening the back.) Big Lil was asleep on the sofa but on the next seat. I thought she was dreaming of roland hunting; chasing wild mickies through meadows; her body was in motion from the tips of her whiskers to the end of her tail; legs running, whiskers twitching, tail switching.

Big Lil cried. In her sleep she cried. Her body jerked her awake as if an invisible hand had shaken her roughly. Wide-eyed and confused, looking about her, trying to ground herself from her sleeping flight, I reached out and touched her paw. Big Lil hates to be touched (well, by us feline beings) but this time she accepted the touch, maybe and hopefully welcomed it. Her eyes softened and her body grew less taut.


And she settled again her back pressed firmly against the sofa cushion.

Her paw which she'd withdrawn returned just to touch mine and she purred. She purred softly before sleep took her again. This time I hope the dreaming meadows were alive with dancing butterflies, and bushy tailed rolands scampered up trees to escape the huntress's claw; big Lil Queen of the felix tribe. Not facing in this new sleeping ground the human beings who had used her head as a football and dumped her on that motorway...

No she was here with us. And she was as safe as any being can be!

Ferdinand: chilling with my friend.