Hooman told me that ham had been spotted down by the river, and he was just giving me a heads up in case some other furocious monster managed to get to it before I did, so I left immediately.
Ham hunts are not to be taken lightly. There is great preparation, planning, and meowing to take place first. Once all the important stuff is done, we can head off to where the ham was last spotted down at the weir, (or so hooman says)…
Hooman has mentioned Hamfish many times. I wonder if that was what he was referring to. After much staring at the water, I saw no sign of this mythical bacon-beast.
The Wally came with me, but as his hunting prowess is on a par with a kitchen sideboard, I utilised him in a tactical capacity to watch my back. You never know when a band of marauding sheep will sneak up and ambush.
When hunting ham, you have to search in every nook, and cranny, as ham is quite sneaky, apparently, (I only assume this as I have yet to see one). After looking at the river for a bit I decided to head to the bank and check the root system. There are lots of little holes where the wildebeest, and crocodiles live, so maybe a ham lives down there too?
Up on top of the river bank, on the edge of the field, I caught a scent… I followed it for about 50 metres along the top, amongst the gnarly, and twisted roots, through some bushes and it led me out at the…
…river. Damnit. Maybe hams are amphibious, and one is leading me on a wild goose chase? I shall have to get hooman to buy me the Encyclopaedia Cattanica so I can check up on such important information.
Time to change tack… I have seen several holes in trees, and I just assume that the pterodactyls live in them. Maybe the hams live in there? I checked the small hole in this tree, but it only had a spider in there called Jeremy. He was no help at all.
Onward and inward, hooman always says, so I carried on my search. I stayed in the trees as my river teach had proved unsuccessful, and maybe we will have better luck. A description of a hagfish would be most useful. Does it have wings, fins, claws, or tentacles? I do not know.
I have discovered that unlike those kindly Ents from Lord of the Rings, the trees near me are either stupid, ignorant, or deaf. After asking this nice looking tree several probing questions on the subject of ham, it did nothing.
After getting very little from the trees, I tried the trail… It was alongside the river, and amongst the trees, so hedging my bets might pay off?
It did not pay off. Not one bit! I never even saw a butterfly to munch. At this rate I’ll have to eat that dry cat food that hooman leaves out for me. Things were not looking good. At this point, mere hours after last having some munchables, I may starve to death. I’d chew on The Wally, but he’s down in that bush losing an argument with a stick.
And so my enthusiasm is waning. My tummy is only 2/3rds full from my morning feed, and I am at a quandary. Do I continue my hunt for the ham, or do I
I heard a noise… Going to investigate…
It definitely came from either this very branch, or somewhere completely different.
Bah! Foiled at every turn! This pesky ham has gotten the better of me today! A last peruse on the bank, and I am done for the day. I shall be forced to go home, empty handed, and meow endlessly at the hooman until he gives me some ham, or part of his sandwich.
And so we end our trip where it began. At the weir. Look at my sad little dejected face. No ham, no edibles of any description, and I am forced to stare and meow to sate my terrible hunger.
It is shameful for any cat.