Sunday, October 20, 2013

Boy Racer

It is most entertaining to sit on one of my staffs' laps and watch the antics of my new housemates Boris and Baci. Like most rodents they like to run close to walls. I must say that I have never really understood this, but then of course I am not "most rodents". I run where I damned well like, straight across the middle of the room, over rugs or tiles, it really doesn't matter to me. I also do something that neither Boris nor Baci would dream of doing. I stand on my hind legs on my staffs' enormous feet and rest my forepaws on their shins. They find this particularly endearing and if I add a pleading look with my liquid brown eyes it often elicits a treat of some sort. Of course if they don't happen to have a treat on their person at the time, I have to endure a rather precarious and bumpy ride on their foot as far as the fridge while they walk lopsidedly like Quasimodo to the kitchen. Then with the treat safely in my mouth I hop off and run straight across the middle of the room back to my blanket upon which I can safely consume my treat.

On the other hand, while Boris and Baci are obviously keen to explore, they confine their adventures to the perimeter, never venturing into the centre of the room at all. Can you imagine what the world would be like if early human explorers had done the same thing? In Australia there'd be no Mount Isa, no Alice Springs. In the USA there'd be no Detroit and no Las Vegas. Africa would be without Nairobi and Johannesburg, while in Britain there'd be no Leicester or Luton. Come to think of it, maybe just exploring the periphery is not such a bad thing after all. Anyway, I was just saying how much fun it is to watch Boris and Baci run around the walls of our lounge room. Boris always leads and chuffs along at his own speed, like my male staff in his car - almost always observing the speed limit, (If not actually the road.) while Baci follows close behind - half an inch from Boris' backside like an impatient boy racer stuck behind my male staff's car on a one track lane. The problem is that now and again Boris likes to stop and sniff, and he does this with no warning, meaning that Baci crashes into him every time. He glares at Boris but does not overtake. He simply waits for Boris to move on and then repeats the same mistake time and time again.  Like most boy racers, he's not terribly bright.

My female staff has been away since Wednesday at a belly dance retreat. Apparently someone is teaching her news ways to move her belly. My male staff finds new ways to move his belly every day without having to spend a week away. She comes back later today and I think the whole five days will have been a bit of a shock for her. Firstly, she is having to sleep in a dormitory - in a sleeping bag - without room service - without an en-suite bathroom. This is a woman who thinks that staying in a three star hotel is like camping. Secondly, she may have trouble persuading her roommates to get up and make scrambled eggs with Parmesan cheese for breakfast for her to eat sitting up in bed with a good book and a cup of tea.

Meanwhile, we five boys have been left in charge of the house - never the ideal situation at the best of times. It's been fun. My male staff has never spent five days wearing only his underpants before, and we three guinea pigs can deposit bush chocolate wherever we like with virtual impunity. It has to be said though that my male staff has got his work cut out for him when he tries to find it all before my female staff gets home, especially the ones I left in her favourite coffee mug. We'll probably get away with it all unless Paolo the budgie squeals. He sits there on his perch peering through the bars of his cage with an oh so superior look on his blue face. I expect he'll try to blackmail my male staff, threatening to tell my female staff what we've been up to unless his millet ration is doubled.
 "Squawk! Poop in the mug. Poop in the mug. Squawk!"


Guten tag. Zis ist now mein vierte "Boris' Bit" and ich sink you vill agree zat mein Englisch is coming gooder und gooder each time, nein? Ich bin learnink all ze time useful new vords und phrases like "busch chocolate" und "vheek". Anyvay it ist true vat Herr Billy says. Herr Baci is alvays doink der runnink sehr close behind me, und vhen ich halt ich bin gettink ein wenig brown, sharp, nose up mein bottom passage. Sometimes it is gettink stuck zere und Herr Billy's staff haf to pick us both up und remove Herr Baci's nose from mein bottom passage. Ven zis happens it comes heraus mit der poppink sound like ein bottle of champagne. Zis ich bin not mindink, but ich do object to Herr Billy's staff yellink "Cheers!" und proposing ein toast every time.


  1. Love Boris and Baci! Mum says she used to have piggies called Max and Gus who loved to race each other across the room while grunting. Hope your female staff
    survives the retreat! Love, Gemma

    1. my huMum had several piggies too, Einstein (very clever, as name already says), Ms. Uhura (all black fur), Rapunzel (brown-white with pretty long fur) ... she wants a Billy but I don´t want to share her with anyone in the world!

  2. Oh dear, hope femal staff has survived the retreat ... a retreat is something spiritually, isn´t it? And does this mean she´s a saint now? Never heard of a belly dancing saint, we must tell the world! Best by sending her to our governments plenary meeting to teach them, which might leads to better politics (no doubt about your femals staffs belly-dancing-healing-powers but much about the reversibility of politicians insanity)

    Boris, dein Englisch wird immer besser! Ein bisschen solltest du noch an der Aussprache des "th" üben, es könnte sonst zu schlimmen Missverständnissen kommen ...

    Boris, your English´s improving very well! But may I suggest you´d cultivate the pronunciation of the "th" as otherwise it could lead to bad misunderstandings ...

    zum Beispiel / for instance ;)