Jan 22nd
Flossom Macfearsome seems to have taken up hunting.
We’ve seen her several times now stalking through the long dry grass. She certainly looks the part with her tabby colours blending in beautifully with the land.
We watched as she crouched behind a mound of dirt ready to pounce on the unsuspecting birds, happily pecking at the seed heads.
She inched forward, ears flattened – the birds continued to feed seemingly unconcerned. I saw her tail twitch expertly.
There was a long pause during which we expected to see her fly out at any minute. Time ticked by; the suspense was killing us. The birds were hopping closer, completely unaware of the hidden menace that lurked mere inches from their feeding patch.
Still, nothing happened. Finally we got the binoculars out.
The great furry hunter was fast asleep.

 

Jan 23rd
I’m thinking of marketing myself as a Barometer. When the weather is swimmingly nice I almost glide around, but when it is about to turn to crap, my hinges become rusty and I creak around like an old tin robot.
Well, this old robot is about to clank its way into the GYM. If you don’t hear from it again, it will be because it has fallen apart somewhere between the pilates ball and the skiing machine. Do not panic.

 

Jan 24th
D.I.Zeuss bounced onto my pillow via the open window at about 2am. He shook himself vigorously. Water droplets sprayed everywhere. “Zeuss!” I yelled; “What the Hey?”
“Don’t blow my cover,” he hissed as he disappeared under the blankets.
I dragged the dripping detective out and held him up by the armpits, “I want a full explanation” I demanded, as Brent turned the light on and shone it in his face.
D.I. Zeuss blinked a few times and sighed loudly, “I am cleverly disguised as sprinkler system about to go undercover but it was blown…by you”.
The undercover sprinkler system was deposited back out the way he had come, into the garden where he belonged.

Jan 25th
Flossom has taken a leaf out of D.I. Zeuss’s Book of Clever Disguises.
She came in wearing two chicken feathers.  It was rather fetching and she was looking very pleased with herself.
“It’s me, Flossom”, she said.
“Good God”, said Zeuss, “A talking canary!”

Sticky and Grommart got the giggles, they rolled around slapping their thighs with mirth.

“No, no”, gasped Sticky, “You’ve got it all wrong, that is a very rare species of Lesser Brained Flightless Parrot”.
Flossom glared at them, and gathering all the dignity a cat of substance wearing two feathers, in the hope of being mistaken for a small finch, can muster, proceeded to squeeze her way back out the cat flap.
“Where do you think she’s going?” said Zeuss, “Flying School?”

Jan 26th
Brent’s traumatised Holey Underpants turned up again last night.
I’d thought we’d seen the last of them but there they were, large as life, in the middle of the lounge floor underneath the sleeping Flossom.
“Ahem”, I coughed to let her know I was there, she woke with a start.
“Ahh”, she said, “I was just giving my client a de-briefing”.
I looked around for a client; there were none in sight, “Your client?”
She gestured at the limp form of the Holey Underpants.
“I think your client may have died”, I whispered.
She looked at me with wide eyes then grabbed the underpants and pummeled them with her back legs.
“What the?”
“I’m administering emergency CPR”, she panted.

Jan 27th
D.I. Zeuss dragged in another suspect for questioning.
He has returned to the case of the missing leg for lack of any serious crime around here.
He sat the paralysed mouse down on the kitchen floor.
“We have evidence”, he boomed, “That places you at the scene of the crime on the exact night the leg went missing”.
The mouse blinked and twitched its whiskers.
“I say, you did remove Badger Magoo’s leg for reasons as yet uncovered”.
Sticky, who was watching from the top of the fridge, looked doubtful. “Um, D.I. Zeuss”, he said, respectfully, “How exactly could a mere mouse, remove a large dogs leg?”
There was a moment’s silence. Zeuss squinted up at Sticky and his tail swished in annoyance. “Ahh,” he said eventually, “That’s the bit that required some clever detective work”, and he suddenly turned to Flossom, perched in wide eyed interest, on the T.V.
“What was that F. Possovitz?” he said, “A phone call?” he swung back to Sticky, “Excuse me, “he said, “I have to take this”. And he disappeared out the cat flap.

Jan 28th
The pooches came into town with us to ‘help’ us do up the house for sale. They ‘worked’ with me in the garden.
Partly Bluett and the Three Legged Badger love coming to the house as it is beside a river where there is an endless parade of people and pooches wandering past the fence. Being country dogs, I’m afraid they are very uncouth.
 “Oi, ya Big Fluffy Poofta”, yelled Partly at a large beautifully groomed, white Poodle trotting serenely by. “Time you came in for shearing”.
Badger snuffled into her paw before spotting a rather tubby Labrador.
“Hey, hey, hey” she yelled, “hey fat boy”; she stopped abruptly as I hauled her down from the fence and gave them both a lecture on good behaviour.
Remarkably, as soon as I opened the gate to mow the outside lawn, both dogs became immensely polite, “Greetings Good Sir” said Badger to the same Labrador she had abused half an hour before. “Mind if I sniff your bum?”

 

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