Rat Catching

Here is a story of one of my rat catching expeditions, a very exciting past-time. The day dawned sunny and bright, Spring was in the air, as was my tail, I was feeling chipper and dandy I might tell you. It was a fine day for catching rats, and that was what I did.

With my trophy held gently in my mouth I decided it was the good and proper thing to do to share it with my family. I ambled into the house; the humans were gaily entertaining their friend. Miffed at the lack of attention that I am accustomed too,  I opened my mouth to protest my indignance. I shan’t patronise you by explaining what happened next, and away it scuttled under the piano.

There was much uproar and commotion befitting an elephants stampede, mm. I’m sure you can imagine. Out came the piano and the little blighter ran out and behind the sofa, pandemonium I can tell  you, the ingratitude of it. Out came the sofa, clever ratty ran back under the piano. It wasn’t having none of it, no.

Eventually after a good hour of fine shananagins and much mayhem, the ungrateful humans set up a device which ushered the little blighter out of the door and away he went. By this time I myself had been removed from the room so that I wouldn’t copy this clever rat-catching device to save my legs.

Needless to say, I was grounded after that and appealed with much vigour to Pûnkass to come and rescue as is befitting of a damsel in distress, mm.