Tuesday, December 28, 2010

I'm Not A Racist, But...............

Chook says "You can tell if someone is a racist.  They'll often start a sentence - I'm not a racist, but............."
Well, I don't know about that.  I'm not a racist but I hate flying fox bats.  They've moved into our garden and have taken up residence in the tall palm trees behind the house.  There goes the neighbourhood.  You get one bat moves in and that's fine, but before you know it their whole bloody extended family has moved in with them.  I really hate the sound of their flapping wings and high pitch squeaking.  It makes me shudder and I was most offended when Pea said that if only I had wings I'd both look and sound like a flying fox.  Remind me to bite his finger next time he puts his hand in my cage!

The bat issue most be quite a problem Australia wide.  Just the other day I was reading one of the articles  on one of the sheets of newspaper that line the bottom of my cage.  Apparently some bloke called Tony Abbott wants to stop the bats so much he made it the main platform of his recent attempt to become the Prime Minister of Australia.  His election slogan was "Turn Back the Bats."  At least that's what I think it said because I'd inadvertently crapped on the article which made it difficult to read.  No doubt we've all encountered that problem at one time or another.  Anyway, I'd vote for him.

Actually I'd vote for anyone who can stop the rain that's been falling in these parts for weeks.  It doesn't effect me directly in that I don't get my fur wet because I live indoors.  However, it does mean that Pea and Chook are unable to get out as much and so they spend more time molesting yours truly.  I'm constantly being pulled from my cage, often in the middle of a nap.  Pea or Chook will then plonk me on their lap and stroke me or brush my hair for an hour and tell me what a cutie I am as if I didn't know that already.  They haven't even had the good manners to learn Cavy which makes communication a little difficult.  I can only sit still and soak up that sort of thing for a certain amount of time, but when I've had enough I can't just say "Thank you that was very nice.  Now would you mind putting me back in my cage."  They wouldn't understand me.  So I've developed a system of biting their clothes when I've had enough.  Nothing vicious you understand, just a little tug with the old incisors.  Unfortunately last time I tried this with Chook she was wearing a rather snug fitting pair of track pants so my pearly whites sank into the inside of her thigh - apparently quite a tender spot for humans.  The yelp this little nip produced was most gratifying and was very effective in that I was immediately returned to my cage.  I might try that again next time.   

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