Yesterday was cage cleaning day. I always forget it, so it was quite a nasty shock when my female staff's hand scooped me up. For a second instinct kicked in and I thought I'd been grabbed by a condor or something. It sort of loosened the old bladder and gave my female staff a handful of scalding hot piggy widdle. Serves her right anyway. maybe she'll give me a bit of warning next time. A simple polite cough as she approaches would suffice. Anyway, having dried her hand on the curtain she took me into their bedroom where my male staff was trying to have an afternoon snooze.
He was laying flat on his back and his eyes were just about to close. "Look after Billy while I clean his cage will you." Ordered my female staff.
"Sure dearest," sighed my male staff as he sensed his afternoon nap slipping from his grasp. I was plonked on his chest, resting on a nice thick towel. I settled down comfortably and my male staff began stroking my fur. I purred a bit and then finally dozed off. Ten minutes later I woke and was about to reprimand my male staff for ceasing his stroking, when I noticed with some fascination that he had dropped off himself. By that I mean he had fallen asleep. I don't mean that he had dropped off the bed. That could have been disastrous for both of us. I could have been squashed as flat as a very flat thing and my male staff would have had his testostricles removed by my female staff with a pair of blunt pinking shears for not looking after me properly.
He was snoring softly and the breath from his nose was just enough to stir my whiskers as I edged closer to his face to get a better look. His mouth was slightly open and it took a lot of will power on my part not to see how many pieces of bush chocolate I could deposit into it before he awoke.. Instead, I gazed up his nostrils. They were like twin caves, black, gloomy and mysterious with spider webs of hair across the entrances. I moved a little closer still and gazed into the caverns of doom. Wait! Did I see something green in there? Yes! I moved closer still, until my right eye was so close to his right nostril that I could see his nose hairs moving in the breeze of his breath. It was hanging there, attached to the wall of his nasal cavity. A piece of lettuce I thought. Or maybe even a bit of basil if I was really lucky. I realise now of course how silly that sounds, but at the time I didn't really think why my male staff would have shoved salad items up his nose. In any case it's just the kind of thing he'd do if he though nobody was looking.
Tentatively to begin with I stuck out my tongue and pushed it into the nostril of doom. Dammit! My tongue wasn't quite long enough. I repositioned myself and stuck my tongue in a little more forcefully. Still the piece of basil, lettuce or whatever it was remained frustratingly out of reach. One last try, I thought to myself, then I'll give up and wait for my dinner. I made a determined lunge and for a second I thought I was going to succeed in obtaining the delicious treat, but my male staff sneezed violently and scared the living bush chocolate out of me - quite literally. Honestly, it was a reflex action, a complete accident, but I bit down hard on the little bit of skin and gristle than separated his two nostrils. This apparently is quite a sensitive part of my male staff's anatomy and he woke with a shriek that brought my female staff running to see what the hell was going on. She stood in the doorway with a look of horror on her face, as if she had never seen a man sitting up in bed with a large hairy guinea pig attached to his nose, like some grotesque nose piercing, tears running down his cheeks and blood poring from his nose. It must have been quite a sight.
"Det 'ib off by doze, det 'ib off by doze!" he kept yelling at my female staff, whatever that means. I never did get my piece of basil or lettuce.
Ah. Happy days. Before I went to sleep on my male staff's chest I had time to consider yet another fine piece of lunacy from our good friends the religious nutters. This time it comes from a certain Suaidi Yahya, the mayor of Lhokseumawe - a city in the semi-autonomous state of Aceh in Indonesia. A state subject to Islamic Sharia law. Mr Yahya has decreed that he wishes to save women's "morals and behaviours" by banning them from sitting astride motorbikes, especially if they are sitting behind a male. What a sad state of affairs when a woman can't even sit astride a motorbike behind her own husband. What does Mr Yahya think? That they going to have sex while travelling at seventy kilometres an hour, weaving through traffic, fully clothed, with the bloke facing the wrong way. Sheesh! If they could manage that they'd deserve to win Indonesia's Got Talent. My male staff say's he's read the Koran twice and nowhere can he find a reference to how women should ride motorbikes. I've actually chewed a few of the pages myself, but please don't tell your friendly neighbourhood Mullah or I could become a sort of rodent version of Salman Rushdie.
Anyway radical Islam doesn't have a monopoly on madness. Look at the way the Roman Catholic church perpetuates both poverty and AIDS in Africa and places like the Philippines by preaching that contraception is a grave sin, while allowing many of their clergy to rape little boys with impunity. Orthodox Jews are not without their fruitcakes either. Take the case of the poor dog whom they sentanced to death by stoning for have the audacity to be the reincarnation of a troublesome lawyer. The following link will take you to an explantion of this sad episode from one of my earlier blog posts. http://pemery.blogspot.com.au/2011/06/orthodox-jews-with-peculiar-views.html Don't worry though, the dog escaped. The silly buggers took him to the park for a walk, threw a ball for him and he never came back.
That's the trouble with religious extremists, they are mostly as thick as bats' bush chocolate. I of course, worship my feet, as do Billy's staff. Billy just pees on his, which I consider to be heracy.