Sunday, October 12, 2014


Before I crossed the Rainbow Bridge I loved going to the local supermarket with my staff.  While they went of searching for human food they'd leave me in charge of the fruit and vegetable department.  Here I did the supermarket a favour by sampling as much of the produce as I could to ensure that it was fit for consumption before my staff came back to collect me.  I'd browse happily amongst the lettuce, carrots and cucumbers, taking great pleasure in frightening the bush chocolate out of customers who, without looking properly delved a hand into a pile of green beans only to feel something warm and furry brush against their fingers.  On good days I could make  three of four elderly ladies pass out from shock and collapse to the floor where they would be ignored by other customers and sometimes even run over by several shopping trollies before a member of staff could arrive to help them to their feet.  If I spied a green grocery department attendant heading in my direction I'd just burrow out of sight in amongst whatever pile of vegetables I happened to be in at the time and continue munching.  The attendants tended not to be very bright anyway.  Usually they were pimply youths who looked as though they couldn't tell a grape from a watermelon and whose hair was so greasy that it appeared as though another member of staff had just tipped bottle of olive oil over their head.

Sooner or later my staff would return.  They'd call my name and I'd stick my head out so that they could locate me, pick me up and put me into the trolly. You wouldn't believe some of the disgusting stuff they'd buy and presumably eat and drink. There always seemed to be bottles of that weird white stuff that comes out of cow's boobs and cartons of those funny oval things that pop out of birds bums in their shopping trolly.  Once when they called me I stuck my head out of a pile mangoes and got grabbed by a short sighted little old lady who squeezed me an declared me to be ripe.  Naturally I bit her finger and jumped back into the mangoes.
 "Young lady! .......... I say, young lady!" She called to a long haired spotty lad in a supermarket uniform.  "There appears to be some sort of animal in your mango display."  The boy gave her his best gormless expression and squeezed one of his pimples.
 "Well young lady. What are you going to do about it?"  The lad scratched his testostricles and sniffed his fingers.  "Well...........?" The older lady repeated before sucking her bitten finger which had started dripping blood onto the floor.
 "I dunno missus." Mumbled the lad.  "Maybe I'd better get the butcher to catch it and put it back in the meat department."  By this time I'd escaped the mango display and made my way to the apples via a short (very tasty) detour through the herb section.  Here my staff were able to grab me and stuff me into my female staff's handbag whereupon I set about chewing her personal alarm.  It's a small metal cylinder a bit bigger than my female staff's lipstick,which I had already chewed and found to be utterly disgusting and not my colour at all. My male staff had bought the alarm for her in case she was accosted in a dark side street by junkie, a parking attendant, a charity collector or some other undesirable.  All she had to do was to press the big button at the end of the cylinder and it would emit a high pitched screech that would immediately render her assailant unable to hear her swearing at them.

We had just about reached the front of the checkout queue when my female staff suddenly realised that she'd forgotten something. "Stay there." She ordered my male staff.  "I'll be right back." I could tell she was running because I was getting quite a rough ride inside her handbag.  I stopped chewing the alarm which wasn't that tasty anyway and stuck my head out to see what was going on.  We swerved abruptly into the bakery aisle and my female staff started scanning the shelves, becoming more and more agitated as she evidently failed to find whatever it was she was looking for.  Nearby, another youth with spiky orange hair was replenishing the shelves.
 "Excuse me."  Said my female staff.  The youth turned to look at her.  He had enough stainless steel attached to his face to make my male staff another Hyundai Getz.  A variety of rings and studs adhered to his nose, ears, eyebrows and lips.  "Face furniture" my male staff's mad sister calls it.
 "Good morning madam" he said with surprising politeness, though the large stud in his tongue made him rather difficult to understand. "What can I do to help?"  His voice was at that peculiar stage when it is almost broken but not quite, alternating between a deep adult gruffness and a childish, high pitched piping.
 "Have you got crushed nuts?" inquired my female staff.
 "No," said the boy in his hybrid voice. "I always talk like this."
At this point I slipped and fell back into my female staff's handbag, landing on and setting off the personal alarm.  My God it was loud!  My ears were ringing for weeks afterwards.  I heard someone shout "FIRE!"  Everybody ran for the exit including my female staff who had no intention of hanging around to be blamed for the false alarm.  Anyway she wanted to get outside so that she could witness the arrival of the fire brigade and all those hunky firemen.  Of course not all my staff's shopping expeditions go this smoothly, some are a real adventure, especially now that they take all four of their guinea pig herd along with them.


On our last shopping xpedish  eckspidit expadishi owting Uncal Billy's staff left us all at the froot and veg sekshun and went off to do their shopping. Tom, Alf and Toby decided to stay and eet sum lettiss, but being an adventurous sort ov piggy I deesided to go exploring.  Ennyway, I'm like mooching abowt in the karrits wen I see this beeyootiful girl piggy's butt.  I'm like Whoa!  So I went over and snift it.  The girl piggy dint move so I snift a bit moor.  Then I thort to myself, "Baci, here's your big chance. This here chicky babe obviously fancies yoo."  So I like mownts her and start no........ like........ the bizness.  A minnit or too later I'm still there reelly enjoying myself and I'm thinking the chicky babe must be too coz she hasn't moved and then Toby appears necks to me and says
 "Baci, what are you doing to that butternut pumpkin?"

Well, can yoo tell the diffrunce? I think it's a very eezy mistake to make.  Butternut pumpkins shood karry sum sort ov warning so that other piggies don't get court like I did.




  1. Steve can't tell the difference either Back. Don't feel bad. Hi Billy nice to hear from you. Loved the story. Alaisha

    1. Thanks for the comment Alaisha and piglets. Baci says he knows what you mean and that you shouldn't worry because as you may have noticed his spelling isn't that crash hot either. Love Billy.