Bitch on the Blog

September 9, 2015

Smitten

Filed under: Amusement,Animals — bitchontheblog @ 17:59
Tags: , ,

And now, for light relief and something else: Animals.

Not for the first time do I find myself bogged down thinking about man’s relationship with animals.

Why is it that some [animals] are so abhorrent to most humans, and others we keep as pets? For me the main criteria to like anything living (other than plants which have their own ways of enchanting or disgusting you) you have to be able to look them in the eye. Without eye contact, in my view, you are nothing. Which is, presumably, why I find mice (the speed runners of the small), spiders (snakes with eight legs) and any other you can’t nail down so abhorrent.

(Wo)man’s relationship with animals. There have been a few dogs in my life. One I grew up with. A magnificent black Alsation, impeccably behaved. Other dogs by proxy. There is one thing, no two, I don’t like about dogs. They go for your crotch and they are needy. Can’t stand it. Understand the crotch thing though they might be a little bit more subtle about it – particularly if you are a girl of seventeen, but that needy look when they can’t put themselves aside for a minute does test my patience. Main thing I keep reminding myself that animals do what animals do. It’s not their fault that some of them don’t fit my perception of good company.

Cats. I love cats. They are not needy. They do their own thing and when they come and talk to you they do so not because they want you to throw a stick to retrieve but because they want to talk to you.

Having said that, one of our cats, Bouncer, was probably the most stupid animal ever (in a sort of intelligent way) you may wish to encounter. Bouncer was born the youngest of our cat Fleury’s one and only litter. Born with his caul intact. A parcel. Which denotes luck. Well, he was lucky in as much as the Angel and I decided to keep him and give his two sisters away. Fleury, his mother, didn’t have that much patience with him – which led to some words between her and me, but that’s private. Anyway, where Fleury was eloquent but never a lap cat Bouncer was huge. I blame his father. So, yes there I was some years ago: Two arms broken and in plaster cast, one leg down, pinned to the sofa, on my back, watching Bette Davis’ movies on a loop when Bouncer descended on me. All eight and a half kilos of him on my chest and purring. That cat’s middle name was either affection or downright selfishness.

Miss both of them, and the one before who used to run after my pencil as I covered the page.

U

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July 20, 2013

Omelette

This post is dedicated to the one and only John. And no, I will not give you his blog link. He is already far too popular to answer all his adoring followers. So leave it. And anyway he has Albert and other fur and feather to look after. And unmentionables to wipe. ¬†Fact is, if it weren’t for Chris (my foe), I’d ask John to marry me. No strings attached. And I do make a mean Scotch egg or two (for those who’ve already lost the plot don’t worry: It’s an in-joke). Mind you, I am no fool or under any illusion: An egg will NOT swing a deal. Not even in Wales.

Yes. Upshot being: I am in love with John. I do like to play it safe.

Certain that he’ll take me under one of his hens wings when the time comes. And wring my neck when I can’t hang myself.

Hugs and kisses,

U

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