…in the line of duty!
This morning I was demonstrating to young Mosby, one of the urchin kittens who has apparently decided to stick
around the house instead of going out and getting a job or something, what you
are NOT supposed to be doing – viz. getting on the kitchen table.
I am, naturally, of the school of thought that actions speak louder than words, and what
better way to demonstrate a no-no than by actively pursuing it? So, making sure
he was watching, I squatted down, waggled my rear and made a flying leap at the kitchen table, landing ever so neatly (if not softly) in the middle. I turned to be
sure Mosby was still observing – young kids these days are so easily distracted
– then proceeded to stroll leisurely along the edge, stopping here and there to
sniff for possible food fragments. Nothing, as usual – you’d think just once
Mummy would leave some crumbs for me but no.
Again checking to be sure my young
protégé was agog with wonder (naturally he was), I sat down, lifted my back leg
over my head and began a nice leisurely bath when I suddenly felt a zap in
my hindquarters.
Oh the pain – the agony!
They got me this time….oooooooh;
I‘m
dying….this is it……..uuungh….
What is that terrible smell??
Death, it is Death come for me!
*sigh*
I should point out here that Mummy has been using certain...er,
disciplinary measures of late to keep the urchins Mosby and Morgan off the aforementioned dining table,
including a gun (cleverly disguised as a water bottle), to which ammunition (hereby known as water) she
adds a certain measure of vinegar.
Yes –
VINEGAR, and boy is it pungent!
It is this deadly weapon with which I have been
shot.
It is insufficient to say that I was surprised, and now I am going to croak just because I was trying [honest!] to teach that rug rat how to behave
himself. Well, that’s it – my teaching days are over!
Mosby can just fend for
himself. Call me a coward but I simply do not think teaching someone manners is
worth getting shot over. I am off to live my last few minutes in bed where
hopefully I can get a good last nap.
And Mummy is most assuredly out of the
will.
If I can just locate the number of my lawyer….
Too funny Gussie! I guess you'd better let Mosby get shot next time instead. :)
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