We’ve been in hiding and it’s embarrassing for a cat to admit but we’re being terrorised by birds. It started on one of the few sunny days in May. Lady of the House was ‘having a hot one’ and opened the window. Harvey had been counting his loot and foolishly left the lid of his treasure chest open. The next thing we knew, psychopathic Magpies were pecking at the shiny coins like ferrets in a rucksack.
But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. Barney was beaten up by The Crow Twins on the way home - they gave him a right beaking. Even the Cat Police don’t want to know and the neighbourhood is ungovernable. Skup Monsters are being mugged of their beer cans and the Ravens have set up a brothel in the shed below. They’ve imported some illegal immigrant Flamingos for a bit of naughty (- say no more squire) exotic dancing - if you get my drifting lilo.
We’ve had no milk for days (only breast milk) and I’m down to my last bounty. I don’t know what I shall do if I run out of chocolate - it doesn’t bare thinking about.
In case this is my last post, I officially donate my ears to scientific research.
Tell the children, Daddy loves them.
Yours always
Bob
P.S. They’re pecking at the windows as I speak. We’re done for. God help us all.
Name day
Catastrophe
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