At the end of the day...It gets dark

Little Tiny Trotter lays fast asleep on the sofa wrapped up in his black cloak, dreaming vampire dreams.

His feet twitch as in his dreams he turns into a bat and flys into the middle distance in an erratic and demented manner.

He sleeps a sleep so deep that he doesn't hear all the cats sneaking up on him.

'HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAA!' they cry as they tip a bucket of ice cold water on him.

Poor Trotter.

sunny afternoons

All the cats except Fing are lying sleeping on Martha's bed.

The sun is beating down and there is a kind of silence as the 3 furry bodies sleep, undisturbed by the people walking past chatting, or Dane playing basketball with Aaron. They don't wake up when Fly walks past talking to Roy, they don't stir when Ernie whizzes by in his electric wheelchair to feed the ducks.

There is a bee buzzing in the window and apart from a twitch of an ear it goes unnoticed. The slow, tick, tock, tick of the clock is almost non-existant in the background.

It is a sea of tranquility on that bed as the cats lie asleep in a bundle.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAA!' Shouts TROTTER as he dive bombs the bed scattering the sleeping cats like a bowling ball. He stands there panting with a stupid happy smile on his face, cloak slightly askew, thinking its a job well done, before seeing the looks on the cats faces and running like fuck, off down the stairs, to hide in the sitting room.

Underworld.

Fing is sat in the Garden under his favourite bush, contemplating the words of the Masnavi.

So why then is oil water's opposite? If you should try to mix them, you will see.'

Fing sits in the shade of the wegelia bush, half asleep in the dappled sunshine, pondering the complexities of the poem, 'That they keep apart so stubbornly. Since rose and thorn belong together too, Why then is constant fighting all they do'

His reverie is harshly disturbed by Trotter hurtling out of the bedroom window in his black cape, landing in the new pond, sending a tidal wave of murky water and weed into the shrubbery.

Fing sits in the shade with a piece of pond weed draped over his head and wonders what will be the best way to kill Trotter, who clambers out of the pond, shakes off his cloak and cries, 'HA HA HA Haaaaaa!' before running into the house to chase Fat Boy Faggot up the stairs.

The Cuckoos Nest

It is Film Friday and this week Fing has chosen 'Underworld' staring Kate Beckinsdale for the other pets to watch.

They stare in horrified fascination as the Vampires and Werewolves mash each other up in a variety of equally nasty ways.

Half way through the film, Fing realizes that Trotter is missing and goes in search of the poor tormented boy. All of a sudden and all unannounced TROTTER! hurtles down the stairs like a bat out of hell, wearing a long black cloack!

'My name is TROTTER!', he announces in a wierd kind of half russian, supposed to be transylvanian accent, 'I was born in the shadow of the Carpathian mountains, and I am also known as , Dracule, Ha Ha Ha Haaaa'.

Fing watches him as he races by and wonders what he ever did to deserve the other pets?

The Depressed Farmer

In a small house in Iffley, Winnie WIn Win Win lies on the floor and sulks.

She remebers what it was like to be a pub landlord and pull pints for thirsty customers on hot sunny days. Unfortunately she was forced to retire in her prime and now is competing with Truly Lu for the position of chubbiest dog in the west.

She pats her rotund little belly and sighs.

The Olympics, but not as we know it.

Trotter and Fat Boy Faggot practice their synchronized sleeping.

Aquatic Life

Giggsey Girl, the stupid slug face, and Tutz have spent the entire bank holiday weekend building an elaborate new pond in the back garden.

On Saturday Giggsey Girl swung a huge pick axe around like it was going out of fashion, while Tutz gave instructions from the flower bed wall. At the end of the day She had created a large, deep hole. The girls then went to the Goldfish bowl and bought some new bright and sparkly goldfish and a rather ugly little black moor for the new pond.

On Sunday the girls lined up breeze blocks and built a small wall around the edge of the pond. They also put sand and mud back in to line it and smooth it into interesting countours so the fish would have nice places to swim and explore in. They put in the liner, they cemented the wall then went inside for a glass of sweet sherry.

Today they are filing the pond, after the application of the water feature and light that will sit at the bottom of the pond to be switched on at night time to really annoy and confuse the fish. When everything is ready they will hold an official openeing of the back garden (although we couldn't have a local dignitary to cut the ribbon because there's a hose pipe ban and we'd be fined) with Varne doing the honours.

There is a tremendous air of excitement in the house, well, not from Trotter and Fing who are still fast asleep on the sofa from their May Morning.

Beltane

Trotter and Fing woke up at 5.30am in a state of excitement. They walked up into town in dawns first light and as they got nearer to the centre people began to join them. Luckily they got to Magdelen Bridge pretty early and were so allowed onto the bridge itself before the police cordoned everything off.

There is a muted chattering, all around the boys are drunk college students come back from May Balls, there are Morris Dancers holding huge standards, the Bulldogs have come out from the colleges and families with children are all around them.

At 6.30 the Magdelen Boys Choir sings and it is so beautiful that it makes all the hairs on Fings body rise until he looks like a giant puffball fish. Trotter turns to say something to him and takes a leap to the left in shock. The Music is eerily beautiful and completely incomprihensible because its all in Latin, Trotter thnks there might be a message for him in the somewhere but he cant quite grasp it.

They sing and some old boy says prayers and Trotter nudges Fing and looks at his watch. Fing nods and they force their way back through the crowds, back up the high street, they take a right down Queens Lane till they hit the Bridge of Sighs at which point they take a sharp right down a tiny alley way to the Turf Tavern.

They have a pint of Old Rosie and laugh at a very large South African who is more drunk that alive. They feel a bit tipsy on the Rosie and head back up the alley way to walk home, but no!

Under the Bridge of Sighs a large group has gathered and in the middle of everything is a Morris Dancer Stand off!



They leap and prance, some hitting sticks together, some being hit around the legs and bottoms by a man with a pigs bladder on a stick, Which Fing finds quite unsettling. Trotter is entranced by the waving of hankies and the jingle of the bells and wonders if one day, he could be a Morriser!They watch for a while then decide to cut through the crowds and weave their merry way home for a well earned nap on the sofa.

This is the Tarsier.

If he was as big as a human being his eye's would be as big as grapefruits.

Like, Hello? Thank God he isn't!

Animals

The pets are talking about the children in Beckenham who used a tiny fox cub as a football on St Georges Day.

Fing tells me that he cant help but feel that perhaps these children might benefit from being bullied at school, perhaps they might mend their ways if some much larger children kicked them around the playground, leaving them with severe internal bruising and in a state of shock.

I look at my boy and tell him that he is far too generous.

In my opinion heartless little monsters like these should have large weights tied around their necks and should be thrown off bridges into rivers to drown.

Deep thought

Trotter is sitting in the kitchen, leaning against the oven, thinking. He is thinking very very hard indeed.

He is trying to remember why he is afraid of his dinner bowl, but nothing springs to mind.

So he gives up thinking, thankfully, as he finds it overall quite painful and frustrating, and goes into the sitting room and happily starts to shred up one of Martha's new books.

Fing looks over the top of his bi-focal's and wonders if he should stop him. He watches the little shabby black dog for several heartbeats before deciding he can't be bothered. Fing looks lovingly at his embroidery and applies another stitch.

Innapropriate use of small wild mammals

Fing stands by the door and crys to go out.

'You cant!' I cry, ' There are Stoats

and

Weasles!'


'Foxes

and Ferrets!

He looks at me. He looks me up and down with a look of such intense disdain that for a brief moment it looks like he's about to suck his teeth to the back of his head. Then he storms off and attacks Trotter who had quite happily been minding his own business playing with his favourite yellow football.

Poor Trotter.

Lost in Space

There is a muted barking coming from some where in the house.

Is Trotter in the hallway barking at the cat litter tray?

No.

Is he in the kitchen barking at the washing machine?

No.

He isn't upstairs barking at Tutz, despite it being one of his favourite past times. He isnt on the landing barking at Martha's bedroom door. He isn't in the sitting room barking at the fan, and he isn't in his pig-pen barking at the air.

No.

Poor Trotter has accidentally locked himself in the bathroom and is barking at the door because he can't understand why he cant get back out again.

Poor Trotter

Ahhhhhh

I Love you when you sleep, its a moment I can keep, Like an old bus ticket or a photograph.

You don't wee, or poo or bark, or any other thing that I dont like, talk is cheap, but i love you when you sleep.

Guest Pet of the Week - Stanley

Stanley

He's the Man!

Likes: Humping soft toys
Dislikes: Oprah Winfrey
Age: Unknown
Distinguishing features: He's the cutest little bad-ass you've ever seen!
Habits and problem behaviours: Singing along to the musical 'Annie!' whilst eating alphabetty spaghetti.

Travelling Pet of the Week - Willow

Willow sits in her taxi, on route to Butlins. She is taking a well earned rest from being the manager of The Swan in Ascot under Wichwood.

Her relief managers are Lucas by day, Duncan by night (Damian at the weekends) and the infamous Captain Skipjack, who apparently takes mayo on the side.

She hopes that her pub will be in good hands and looks forward to being stroked by a red coat.

Fed up with not being allowed in the garden Trotter decides to take himself for a walk.

It is a sad day for Trotter.

All the other pets are in the garden playing rounders, enjoying the first proper sunshine of the year.

But not Trotter, not to be trusted he stands alone in his pig pen and sighs.

Guest Pet of the Week - Khan

KHAN

Likes: Knawing on old dolls heads and tossing them around the room

Dislikes: Being picked up and then dropped again when Stuart is drunk

Age: Unknown

Distinguishing features: Squashed up face and cowboy hat

Habits & Problem behaviours: Riding his pony too fast down Thame High Street, lassoing bitches in heat and picking his nose at the dinner table

A matter of Taste

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