Thursday, 19 September 2013

Moving things

Things have been changing in our house lately.
Mum and Dad have been moving the furniture around.  I don't know what brought this activity on but I find it very interesting, and just a little confusing.

In the big room, where there used to be a pool table, there is now a table and chairs, a wooden cupboard thing that a television sits on and a couch. The pool table was taken away by two men one day. They came with a little truck, loaded it on the back and drove away.  Mum didn't seem to be concerned about the theft of our pool table at all.  She even held the door open for the men.  I tried to protest but was told to be quiet and mind my manners. How am I supposed to be the protector of the house and contents when I am minding my manners?  

Heidi was a bit peeved because she liked to sleep on the mat under the pool table.
I thought about filing an official complaint on her behalf....something in the form of lizard remains left in the lounge room....when I noticed that Dad had brought a couch into the room.  I happen to like couches.  They are so comfortable.  One can stretch oneself right out when one is having one's post dinner snooze.

We have another couch. It is in the lounge room but it is usually occupied by Heidi.  She has invoked the 'Older Sister's Advantages' clause of our housemates agreement whereby she gets first choice of snacks, sleeping quarters and human laps to sit on.  This means I usually have to squeeze my large size self into a medium size armchair while she luxuriates on HER couch. So, I was understandably delighted to find that I now had my own couch on which to ever-so-gracefully recline.

The only problem now is that Dad appears to be of the opinion that MY new couch is his.  He wants to park himself on MY couch to watch the Golf Channel.  I have tried to explain to him that there is room for two on the couch if he keeps himself to one end, but he insists on my vacating the couch completely so that he can spread himself out.....and he won't even share the cheese and crackers!

Tuesday, 3 September 2013


This is a fruit bat.  I don't like fruit bats.  They fly around at night and crash around in the palm trees eating the little nutty things that the palm trees grow.  They squeal and squeak, making a lot of noise.
But, worst of all, they POOP!!!!!   EVERYWHERE!!!!  They are indiscriminate poopers.

On Sunday Mum was complaining about bat poop being on the windows. There was even some that had gone through the insect screens and onto the shutters.  Disgusting!

This didn't really concern me until last night.  You see, I was outside doing one of my regular patrols of the back yard, when one of the rotten little flying poopers flew over and pooped on me from a great height......on me.......on my back......right on my beautiful blonde woolly back.   Unbelievable!  I was shocked.  It felt horrible...all wet and stinky.  Disgusting!

Normally I don't have a problem with stinky things but this was just insulting.  What sort of creature wantonly poops on someone from a great height like that?  I tried to get it off by rolling on the grass but that didn't work, so I dashed inside to tell Mum.

She was in the kitchen doing something so, considerate dog that I am, I decided to not disturb her and went into the lounge instead. I thought maybe I could scrub the stinky goo off on the couch if I rubbed myself along under the cushions.  That didn't work either.

Then Dad smelt it.   He was not pleased.  I tried to show him that it was bat poop but he just told me to get away from his trousers. So I tried to get the poop off by rolling on the carpet.  That didn't work either.  I was very upset and confused by this time.

Mum heard all the uproar and came into the living room to see what was going on.  Dad had a hold on me by then and he pulled me out into the laundry.  (It was more like dragged really).  Mum gave my poor despoiled back a sponge bath and finally the stinky poop came off.  Then Mum dried me off with the hair dryer and I began to feel a bit better.

Mum realised that my delicate feelings had been hurt and said I could have a Schmacko to make me feel better.  That worked wonders.  Heidi appeared out of nowhere to get in on the Schmacko deal.  She claimed that she had felt my trauma and also needed a soothing treat. Pfft!

Mum said that when I hear the bats squealing, I should stay inside but that would interfere with my security patrols.  I think I need some sort of umbrella that would attach to my body to protect me from disgusting flying poopers.  If anyone can design such an umbrella, contact me via this page.

Thank you.