Hide the Sausage

I think I know why our glorious Australian cricket captain - Ricky Ponting has been so ratty and petulant lately.  I read that he has dozens of bats - well no wonder then.  All that squeaking and fluttering of leathery wings must be driving him nuts, and imagine the amount of bush chocolate he'd have to clean up.  He probably gets fewer hours sleep than he gets runs these days.  My advice?  Dump the bats Ricky.  Get yourself a guinea pig.  We're quiet-ish, we don't flap our wings in the middle of the night and we don't carry hendra virus.  Sure we crap on the floor sometimes, but hey, doesn't everyone? Anyway our droppings are nice neat little parcels of goodness - yum!  I love em!  They're easy to pick up and have a nice aerodynamic shape should you ever feel the need to chuck 'em at your partner.

Talking of leaders who have passed their use by date, I see that Libya's Colonel Gaddafi is blaming Osama bin Laden for the uprising that looks like it will either oust or kill him.  I can think of numerous other calamitous events to blame on bin Laden.  Australia's defeat in the Ashes, the Queensland floods, my being mounted by my mate Badger, West Ham's poor form in the English Premier League to name just a few.  What a funny little man Gaddafi is.  First he blames it all on drug addicts, now it's bin Laden.  What next? Indigestion?  Oh well, he'll either be living in a palace in Saudi or six feet under the sand of the Western Desert soon - inshallah.

My friend Badger is a funny little bloke.  He has his own cage at the moment because Pea and Chook are convinced we're going to bonk each other to death.  He has a little blue shelter in his cage, not unlike my little red one.  I know he's in there somewhere but I hardly ever see him.  Chook puts his food in his bowl and half an hour later it's gone.........and yet he hasn't left his shelter.  How does he do that?  He must be able to suck more powerfully than a black hole.  I reckon he just sits in his little blue shelter and sucks like crazy, so that the food shoots straight out of the bowl into his mouth.  There's no way I'm going to try that.  With my luck I'd end up with a bean stuck up my nose and have to go to the vet to have it surgically removed - how embarrassing.

Anyway now my lust for Badger has subsided a little Pea and Chook let us play together in the play pen for a while each evening.  I love sidling up by his side and barging him with my backside.  Because he's less than half my size and about a quarter of my weight he goes sliding across the tiles, it's great entertainment but I have to be careful not to barge him in the direction of my food bowl because he then just sits there and inhales the lot and it's no good me running to Pea or Chook for sympathy, the just say "Serves you right."  Fine. please yourselves, I say, I'll just give you some extra bush chocolate to clear up. Then last night Pea let me lick his toes.  If it's good enough for the Duchess of York, it's good enough for him he reckons.  So there I was slurping away when I got distracted by a phone ringing on the telly.  I hate that noise so I leapt in the air and spun round to glare at the offending contraption.  Then I felt something hard pressing against my backside.  Well, naturally my immediate thought was that Badger had crept up behind me for a quick game of hide the sausage.  I wasn't having that so I ran back to my little red shelter and pressed my bum hard against the rear wall, only to find Pea and Chook laughing at me because Pea had poked my bottom with his toe.  The very toe that I'm going to take a chunk from next chance I get.