December 2008 Archives
Woolies has produced an advent calendar for pets. There's only one problem - all the windows are boarded up.
For many cats, Christmas is far from a joyous time.
While many of us are feasting on turkey and prawn cocktails and tossing baubles across the carpet, there will be those who endure a drab Christmas devoid of seasonal luxuries.
Do they know it's Christmas? Probably not.
And it's not their fault. They didn't know their owners were Jehovah Witnesses.
Even worse, some of you Keogh fans have been forced into being vegetarians by misguided owners. That just ain't on. Where's the fun in hunting down a carrot? Has anyone heard a nut cutlet squeak in terror?
Do the humans reading this know how many homeless cats there are out there? A homeless person gets a dog: he doesn't get a cat because we'd urinate on his stack of Big Issues - and run up a tree when he started playing the mouth organ in a shopping mall.
To those feline companions facing a bleak holiday and envying the pampered pooches on their block, I'll recite something my mother always told me: a dog isn't just for Christmas - in Korea, with a bit of care, it'll stretch to a Boxing Day curry.
Ginger, the one-eyed cat who hangs out at the power station, is a classic example of a puss bought for Christmas, then abandoned.
He was purhased as a substitute - a substitute for a Barbie doll. The little girl who get him was fine with 'second best' - combing Ginger's hair and even draping him with jewellery - but got the jitters when someone said Ginger needed a worming tablet.
She didn't know how to break it to Ken.
The pampered Persian in our village must be very hard to cater for at Christmas. She's got everything - they reckon she'll be in that vet's surgery for at least a month.
Last year, her owners bought her some bling. It's got her name on - 'Princes Rose Petal of the Golden Dawn III'- and address. She's been swanning around with a piece of jewellery the size of a dustbin lid round her neck.
She's the only feline round our parts who catches sparrows by dazzling them.
Have a great Christmas - and remember to send me your crimbo cat pix
For a cat, Christmas really is a load of baubles.
Flashing decorations, things that go bang when you pull them and really wrinkly things under twigs (they're elderly relatives waiting for a kiss, apparently).
Last year it was so bad I went cold turkey for five days - it was the only meat they put in my dish.
This is my second Christmas with humans and I'm still not sure what it's all about.
Bit of a bombshell.
The vet confessed, rather sheepishly, that he got the sex of the new kitten in the Lockley's life wrong.
Kightly is a she, not a he. And to think they were going to call her Butch.
Shame that - I was only putting up with the annoying fleabag because I knew there was a very big operation waiting round the corner.




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