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

"How's Doll?"
"Ok."
"Lil?"
"Ok."
"You?"
"Ok."

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."
"Oh!"
"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.

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.

3.am. 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.

"Ferd?!"

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.

Ferdinand: never a cross word!

"Hey we’re back again. And the funny black mark is gone!"
"Knew I’d help."
"Took me hours after you hit that button."
"Looks good though."
"Yes even if I say so myself it does."

"Ferd?"
"Yes oh striped one."
"Ok if I finish my article now?"
""Ok."
"Ferd, I think we should have a crossword."
"Ok, only a strumpet wears pyjamas in the afternoon!"
"No, a crossword."
"Slattern!"

"Ferd, a crossword, where you put words in boxes, all proper papers have them."
"We’re a proper paper."
"Then where’s our crossword?"

Ferdinand: never a cross word.

Dolly helping Ferdinand with HTML coding!

"Ferd are you going to be long?"
"Don't know."
"Only I want to finish my article: the day we went to Electra's house."
"We didn't"
"We did."
"We didn't you followed me! Commentating."
"Well anyway are you?"
"What?"
"Going to be long on the computer?"
"Don't know."
"What you doing?"
"I'm doing html coding; trying to get rid of that funny black spot by my portrait."
"That's called your nose."
"Not that, that."
"Mmm see what you mean."



What if you press....?"

Dolly is not wearing pyjamas.

Oooh, ooh ooh. We're back on. Back on the world wide web.

Hello.

And, And I have an Ebay account.
Well it's not mine exactly but it is on this computer and sometimes a human being (not mentioning any names) forgets to log out.

So I've made an inventory, taken stock of my worldly goods!

There's my:
Photograph of Richard Madeley.
Silver frame.
Pink blanket (comes with ginger hair).
A cardboard box with a picture of a strawberry on the side.
And a bacon rind with my teeth marks.

So number one will be listed under Art, Photographs, Contemporary.
2/ Antiques, Silver, Solid Silver, Frames
3/ Home and Garden, Bedding
4/ Umm a bit more difficult. Other perhaps? No I know! Art. It's got that picture of a strawberry on the side -a print- and it's an old box so... Art, Prints, Antique Prints, Botanical/Plants. Fantastic.
5/ This is even more difficult. Collectible? Food and Drink, Other? Well I'm not sure. My teeth marks...

"Ferdinand."
"My..."
"Ferd."
"My teeth..."
"Ferdinand."
"What?"
"Ferd."
"What?"
"Ferd, Ferd."
"What, what?"

"It's the beeb."
"What is?"
"The BBC."
"What is the BBC?"
"Ferdinand don't you read the comments section."
"Not since an American called me an...!"
"Well we're going to be interviewed."
"What?"
"Interviewed, beeb, going to be. So stop writing about chewed bacon rinds and write something sensible."

"I am very handsome."
"And factual."
"With ginger hair."
"Punchy."
"Punch you?"
"Not me, you."
"I won’t hit you, you girl you."
"Hard hitting."
I’m not going to hit you Doll, hard or soft."
"Give me strength."
"That's why Doll, you’re not as strong as me one blow from these paws and..."
"Ferdinand. Write. Write something. Write something factual and surprising."

Dolly is not wearing pyjamas.


Ferdinand's inventory: making every word count.

Ferdinand: Facing Death with Fearless Fortitude

Ferdinand is going at a goodly pace. Stealthily keeping close to forecourt walls, I follow.
Ferdinand is wearing his tail very high; it's like looking at a tea towel holder.
"You following me?"
"You following me Ferdinand asks grumpily?"
"Dolly go away!"
"Ferdinand continuing on his journey hisses, go away."
"Will you stop repeating everything I say?"
"Ferdinand says, will you stop repeating everything I say?"

Facing with fortitude the threefold hazards of big black rubber wheels, the gnashing jaws of the canine lunatic fringe and the water throwing, bunny burning Mrs Bigginbottom, Ferdinand is making his way to Electra’s house (it's the spring, enough said...)

"Will you stop?"
"Ferdinand says, will you stop."
"Stop it."
"Ferdinand shouts, stop it."
"Stop ."
"Get out of the road you mangy ginger moggy," a male human bellows from his Ford Orion and salutes us with two fingers.

Wow! Ferdinand nearly got squished by one of the aforementioned big rubber wheels. Fortunately your roving reporter Dolly was on the pavement; Ferdinand who is not looking or concentrating on the job in hand was otherwise engaged shouting stop it at me.

Safely across the road Ferdinand's tail is held a little lower.
"What's he mean mangy moggy?"
"Ferdinand asks: what's he mean mangy moggy?"
"Will you stop repeating everything I say?"
"Ferdinand says will you stop repeating everything I say."
"Stop it."
"Stop it."

Ferdinand is approaching another road will he make it now? Can he concentrate for more than two seconds?
"Stop repeating everything I say."
"The technical term is running commentary!"
"Well just stop running after me with your commentary!"

He can’t think of anything other than Electra: brains are in his...
...Whooh that was close!
"Dolly you are going to get us both killed."

Dolly: Facing dangers boldly to bring the news. Roving reporter. The Kate Adie of the cat world.

Ferdinand: Facing Death with Fearless Fortitude.
"It's my postscript ."
Dolly: Danger cat.
Ferdinand: Handsome ginger cat (not a mangy moggy.)
Dolly: Jounalist.
Ferdinand: It's my blog!
"Ginger .... "
"Ouch"
"Get off."
"dscxf tbg Keyboard cmfrd hhh."
"zx gfv grt nbhjkjhkcxncx."!