So christmas was almost upon us and the snow had gone, replaced with somewhat more clement weather. After giving The Wally’s leash a good rattle he ran around like a loon, as usual, whenever he realises he is getting to go on a walk. Try as hooman may to actually put the lead on him, he just doesn’t sit still long enough for a good few minutes. You’d think he would be used to it as he goes out every day, but each time you would swear it was the first time this year.
And so, the back gate is opened, and off he scampers trying to find somewhere he can both run, wee, sniff, and bark at, all at the same time. In the meantime, hooman and my good self are just pottering along like an old couple.
Being a furocious predator of some renown, I have a reputation to maintain. I will seldom be seen to run, unless it is accompanied by a furocious RAWR! as an advert to other woodland creatures as to my presence. I like to play a fair game and to advertise their imminent demise at toof and claw.
Despite myself being a vicious killer of things, and The Wally being able to outmuscle even the strongest earthworm, it is sometimes advisable to form a gang for protection. Hooman said that recently roaming gangs of snails, and moths, have been spotted in the area, and they reports said they were armed with flick-knives, sharpened sticks, and nunchucks.
One can’t be too careful, even if armed with claws.
Down at the river, the winter floods from rains, and snow melts have flooded the pathways and surrounding areas, sweeping them clear of shrubberies, bushes, and flattening all the grass. It looks all a bit apocalyptic.
Down at the riverside, logs, twigs, and bits of flotsam slowly float past bumping into stumps, fallen trees, and the like. Sometimes it makes noise. I heard one of these noises, and proceeded to sit down and stare at it for a bit in the hope that it was something edible like a hippo or crocodile. Hooman said that when I do this it reminds him of Paddington Bear’s ‘long hard stares’. This Paddington fellow sounds particularly furocious.
So we carried on. The Wally gallivanting around the place at full speed. I plod on along the grim winter paths, among the trees that have no colour on them at all. It can be nice, but other times it looks very bleak, a bit like hooman’s love life.
Hooman insists on telling me that because the trees are twisted, and freaky looking, that they naturally have spooky stuff attached to them somehow. Sometimes it will be a cold breath in your ear, a zombie emerging from the ground, or a headless horseman trying to chase you down on the back of a mare. When sitting in these trees I simply give it a very small RAWR and thus far it has kept such supernatural frights from me.
This obviously means it works.
Hooman still insists on trying to take selfies including myself. I retain the right to look disinterested, and away from the camera at such times. This makes hooman grumpy so it is well worth it.
The Wally simply cannot sit still for his.
More running from the loon. We can never tell if he is running from something, or running to something. Either way, his tongue is clearly used as some sort of rudder, or aerodynamic device. It probably created downforce for better cornering, or something.
I think he may be mentally unstable…
Sometimes I find holes in the earth. Hooman says they are filled with ham treats, wildebeest, and trifle, so I have to search each and every one. Thus far I have always come up empty. Hooman says that my paws are too short, so maybe next year I’ll be able to reach them.
I have a fascination with climbing on stumps, and clawing them to death. Hooman says it is because stumps are defenceless, and I am just a coward. Hooman has clearly not seen those Ent things from Lord of the Rings. They kicked arse. They were trees, and probably live round here somewhere. They just keep quiet and still in case I give them a clawing.
Sometimes when I am at hooman height I will try to use my feline ability of hypnotism. This is mostly to obtain more treats. Unfortunately hooman neglects us terribly by seldom bringing treats on the walks, so I normally end up with him giving me receipts and sweet wrappers from his pockets.
These are of no use to me.
The Wally stood still for a bit. Relish the moment as it doesn’t happen very often.
So, we mooch our way past the pond, and I do my best to hide from hooman and The Wally. Being a black cat, my powers of camouflage are surpassed by none, and so when I sit in a shadow, no-one can see me.
And so, we head back home. Hooman has promised me ham when we get back, but I shall believe that when I see it. As it is Xmas eve, however, I shall be hoping for toblerone, xmas pudding, and the like…