...Er, um, Hello!

My name is Augustus. I have parents. Sometimes life can be difficult. I possess the great skill of being able to charm the socks off of anyone who chances to spot me, a rare occurrence indeed. [The spotting, that is; not the charming!]
However, for you, Dear Reader, I am prepared to divulge my deepest thoughts and perspective of the world, mostly because if I don't tell somebody what is going on around here, I am going to pop!
But be warned, proceed with caution: Living with Mummy and Dad can be rather harrowing at times...

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Rules of Engagement

Rule #1 – Never abandon your post unless you are prepared to lose it.
Rule #2 – If you must leave for, say, a jaunt to the little boys’ box or to forage in the snack bowl (or both), be prepared to return to an occupied foxhole.
Rule #3 – On your return, should you find a fiend (or other uninvited resident), you must think quickly and decide on a course of action. Below are a few suggestions which will help you maneuver the situation with minimal casualties:
Let us say, for illustration purposes, that the foxhole is Dad’s lap. And let us suppose that you know beyond a doubt that the space, once empty [and still noticeably warm!], will be indubitably taken over by a ‘rat of the underworld’ variety. If you are the brave warrior type, stealth is the key to retaking the ground.
Here is what to do - simply creep casually ‘round the corner (fully prepared for the ‘unexpected’), assess the situation – who the blighter is, size, weight, general disposition – and make your way silently toward them. On reaching the first target point (code word ‘sofa’), leap quickly (but quietly - we are in stealth mode) onto the back, just behind Dad’s head. Next, you want to place your enormous fuzzy feet on Dad’s shoulder and deftly raise your whole body onto his chest (be warned: this is akin to a pushup and, therefore, rather exhausting). Now, force your way back down into Dad’s lap via the abdomen [NOTE: there may be some casualties along the way, namely Dad’s tummy, but this cannot be avoided - remember, this is warfare!]. Now you are in position for the final blow – release your claws from Dad’s chest and simply lower your whole body with a thud on top of the space invader.  If properly carried out, your target will be eliminated because, hey, no one likes a 32 lb. missile landing on their head, right? Target beats it for the open spaces, and you regain the ground…er, lap. Case closed.
If, on the other paw, the target, once assessed, turns out to be one of those heavyweight boxing champ girls like, say, Nobbie (just as an example), you might want to seriously rethink your strategy or you are likely to get cuffed ‘round the ears. Here is one method I have employed in the past and which typically yields results: on seeing that foxhole is occupied by such a tenant, immediately expunge all thought of stealth attack from your mind and run quickly to Dad’s side, looking up at him piteously, remembering to widen your eyes and exude patheticness. You may also want to paw at his leg to get his attention. Once he notices you, and here you are free to use your imagination as to what might work best to that end, Dad will realize he has been re-occupied and oust the rogue in question, declaring that “Augustus was here first!”.  Be prepared for nasty looks and ugly somethings whispered under her breath as she passes by but otherwise know that you have achieved a great victory this day. You will probably pay for it later but for now, the fort is yours!
Credits: Augustus the Ace Bomber, Lap Retriever Extraordinaire.
His credo: “Whatever works! All’s fair in...War”

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