The Riot Diaries

JAN 8th
D.I. Zeuss has been practicing his interrogation techniques on me.
He sat on my chest as I lay on the couch exhausted after my first day back at the GYM after 3 weeks of idleness, gluttony and bacchanalia.
“So”, said Zeuss, pressing his nose against mine, “Where were you between the hours of 9 and 11am this morning?”
“At the GYM”, D.I. Zeuss”.
“And what, precisely were you doing at the said GYM?”
“Exercising D.I. Zeuss”.
“Exercising your right to…?”
“Just exercising”.
“Yes but didn’t you perhaps, exercise your right to, say, kill someone?” he said dramatically, looking at Grommart and Sticky to make sure they were watching.
I looked at him and rolled my eyes, “I most certainly was not killing anyone Zeuss”.
He squinted enigmatically at me, “So let’s just say you were exercising your right to exercise your right then”, he said.
“He’s very good isn’t he?” said Grommart admiringly.
D.I. Zeuss lowered his face against mine, his nose pressed against my ear, there was a long silence while I waited for his final summation.
Suddenly I realised he was snoring. I figured my interrogation was over.

Jan 9th
The Phantom Phantom got some new shoes today. He’s been wearing them out in a matter of weeks so I asked for 6 inch heels.
“Six inch heels!!” scoffed Persil, “What is this? Pimp My Horse?”
Phantom looked slyly at me and gently grabbed my fingers with his lips, “Actually”, he said, “I quite like the idea. It’s kind of, well, GLAMOROUTH”, and he batted his eyelashes at Persil.
Persil looked aghast, for a little Aussie Stock Horse, this was too much.
I had to assure him we joking and that no one was getting 6 inch heels, not even me.
6 carrots later Persil was placated and to my relief I noticed the two of them playing together in a ‘matey’ sort of way later that afternoon.

Jan 10th
Flossy Television is appalling at the moment. Endless reruns of The Simpsons and Reality TV abound. The cats and I sat around suggesting titles for new Reality shows that we would watch…
‘REFUR MY CAT’ suggested by Zeuss, referring to Flossom, whose fur is growing back at an alarming rate.
‘SUPER SIAMESE ME’ growled Flossom, though Zeuss has been doing this for a while now.
‘SPECIAL CATS UNIT’ said Zeuss, looking at the mad Grommart.
Then we remembered the Reality Show we used to have – ‘SURVIVOR TROPICAL FISH TANK’ – this was a long running show featuring a team of mad Guppies pitted against an athletic and determined Team Danio. Unfortunately the tank had to be left back in Hawkes Bay as it was too big to transport. We will be setting up another.
‘THE FISH TANK’s GOT TALENT’ self explanatory really.
‘SENSING DINNER’ – another Flossom suggestion.
‘C.S.I. MCLEODS RD’, where D.I. Zeuss investigates the mysterious disappearance of 5 mice and a rabbit. Zeuss looked pleased with himself when this was suggested by Sticky.
“’FAT CATS CAN’T HUNT’” suggested by Zeuss looking at no one in particular.
After that suggestion, there was a furious battle and Zeuss and Flossom were escorted outside to cool off.

Jan 11th
D.I. Zeuss came screaming in from the fields wailing like a siren. His fur was standing on end and his eyes were wide open for once. “The COWS are REVOLTING!” he wailed.
“You’re telling me”, growled Flossom, “Cows are foul”.
“Actually,” said Sticky, who has studied such things, “COWS are of the BOVINE persuasion.”
Meanwhile, I could see the ‘revolting’ cows busting through the electric fence. Zeuss was quite right; they had staged a break-out in search of water. Their own water trough had sprung a leak and they were coming over to take over the horses’ trough.
It took most of the day to restore peace and calm. Later I noticed some of the cows standing around the trough obviously trading ‘water cooler’ jokes with the horses.

Jan 12th
Zeuss The House God has lost his voice altogether.
He looked up at me as I bent over to kiss him good morning.
“Oh Zeuss”, I said, “Are you ok?”
He pointed to his mouth.
“Oh dear,” I said, “Have you lost your voice?”
He nodded pathetically.
Flossom smirked, “I’m sure I saw him put it down a rabbit hole”, she said. Zeuss glared at her. She continued, “It’ll probably turn up in somebody’s stew”.
Both cats got unceremoniously dumped outside again.

Jan 13th
Brent Brent and I spent the day tackling the wilderness that surrounds the house in town.
We slashed and burned our way through the back yard. I expected to find several lost tribes and maybe a rare man-eating Southern Yeti. There was evidence they existed there once.
Brent heaved aside a mound of tangled vines and hacked at a towering Toi toi clump. He wrestled something in the undergrowth. Suddenly he yelled. I rushed over, vaguely wondering if I should be armed and ready to fight for our lives, but it was too late. He proudly held aloft the limp form of something that looked as if it had been in a ferocious battle but had been defeated. “LOOK!” yelled Brent triumphantly, “My underpants; they blew off the line last year”.

Jan 14th
I told the cats about Brent’s’ missing underpants.
D. I. Zeuss D.I. Zeuss was very interested.
“Did you question them?” he asked.
“Zeuss,” I said, “You can’t question a pair of underpants”.
“And why not?”
I rolled my eyes.
“They were probably traumatized”, said Grommart knowledgeably.
“SO”, said D.I. Zeuss, pacing the floor, “We have, a pair of traumatized underpants, turning up, out of nowhere, after one whole year, of no contact; did ANYONE,” and here he spun round and pointed at each of the cats in turn, “bother to file a missing underpants report?”
They all shook their heads solemnly.
I was shaking my head in disbelief.
“So I take it”, D.I. Zeuss continued, “We don’t actually know, at this stage, whether the underpants in question, were in fact, abducted and held prisoner, in which case they may have formed a bond with their captors”; here, Sticky interjected – “That would be known as the Stockingholme Syndrome”, he said. The cats have been watching far too much television lately.
“Thank you, yes,” said D.I. Zeuss continuing, “or, if they were able to escape”.
He stopped and washed his face with well licked paw.
Sticky and Grommart were very impressed. Flossom looked at me somewhat crossly.
“Is he talking about what I think he is talking about?” she asked, raising her furry eyebrows at me, “YES” I replied, relieved that there was at least one sane cat in the house. “That’s shocking”, she continued, “Those underpants will never get over it”.