On tinned cat

On tinned cat

I am not - by-and-large - a cruel person.

In fact, I am known for my kind and cosiderate nature, and that business with the jet-powered hamster was nothing but an unfortunate misunderstanding. Ditto the freefall goldfish experiments.

And the same can be said for my charming considerate wife, The Fragrant Mrs Duck, who has never harmed an animal in her life that she hasn't been prepared to eat. Raw.

However, like any other person from this great nation of animal-lovers, we like nothing more than a good, hard laugh at the misfortunes of some poor, dumb creature. THat is why You've Been Framed fills a prime-time slot on Saturday evening television.

This is especially true if this misfortune is falling upon is the cat belonging to the chav family down the road that's been going through the bins and shitting in our front garden.

That's the cat doing the bins and the turds, but I wouldn't put it past the kids either, to be honest.

So, it came as no surprise to be awoken by the sound of feral family's feral cat rummaging through our recycling bin at one o'clock of the morning. Its target: scraps at the bottom of Lucy Minogue's Harrod's Not-Value-Brand-At-All Dog Chunks.

Then... the sound of a cat panicking.

This, I am afraid, it a tough one to describe, but picture if you will, the spawn of a pair of street moggies jumping about in a large bin of tins, jars and plastic bottles, a tin of dog food wedged onto its head.

Then, picture the same cat running round and round in (literally) blind panic for several minutes until, inevitably, its helter-skelter route around the garden it halted by a fucking great brick wall.

"DANNNNG-Meooooooow!"

And there, in an upstairs window, your humble narrator and his fragrant, charming wife sat, laughing like a great pair of stupids.

Of course, being the kind, caring person that I am, I donned a dressing gown and went downstairs to see if moggy was uninjured. It went for my face, and I trod in a freshly-squeezed turd, so I took that as a great big 'YES'.

The next day, the recycling bin grew a lid. A lid held down with a breeze-block.

If I angle it just right, I could catch me a kitty.