...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...

Friday, February 3, 2012

A Desperate Act!

I thought all night about how I could rescue poor Dad from that dratted little black box. Well, MOST of the night; eventually I got so sleepy and my head started hurting from all the thinking so I had to call it quits. But you can bet that the first thing I did this morning (well, after waking Mummy up for breakfast at 5:30, playing chase with Nutmeg and a very small nap; oh, and sidling up to Mummy for a post breakfast treat) was to put my thinking cap on and exercise the old bean a bit. I thought and thought some more, then it came to me! If Dad is in that blighted little black box, I must figure out how to open it and let him out. Maybe it’s one of those things where you are normal size then as soon as you stick your big toe in – ZAP!  you shrink and get swallowed up inside. Soooooo...I wandered nonchalantly into the sitting room where Mummy was working at her desk...Annnnnnnd...I jumped up on the desk. Probably she thought I wanted her attention but far from it – I had a plan, and she need know nothing about it until the final hour.
Besides, I’ve been brooding a bit about the fact that she put Dad in there to begin with. I don’t know what he did but it couldn’t have been as bad as all that, and I wasn’t feeling too chummy towards her.  I sat quietly for a bit, watching her work and waiting for an opportunity to put my plan into action but she wasn’t budging; it looked like I would just have to take a chance. Still wanting to be subtle, I reached out and put my paw on the box. No response – this is good! I patted it a bit, trying to find a latch or something but, blast, there was nothing! Carefully, I slid it towards me. Uh oh – Mummy looked up. I stopped and pretended to wash my face. She eyed me narrowly but didn’t say anything. At this point I was feeling pretty desperate. Wild-eyed, I went for it: I grabbed that little box and swatted it clean across the room, thinking that if it crashed it would open up and let Dad escape before Mummy could stop it (or him). I ran straight after it, Mummy hot on my heels. Coming to a halt and viewing the remains, I could see that, well - I could see that I had better wait to see because Mummy was really mad! I raced to the bathroom and slid under the tub by way of the window seat. And here I will stay until she calms down a bit. Oosh – that was a close one.

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