WARNING: This blog is ritten in Bear English, wich is phonetic. An that is mor than yu can say abowt the werd "phonetic".

Monday, December 11, 2006

Weekend Report- poor Mr Scooter-the-big-black-cat

Weekend's scores:
  • Gills: yes but they cheated, so we lost
  • Simpsons: yes, half ov wun
  • Tesco: yes, an Tesco petrol too
  • Nose Hugs Surprizisity Score: 10/10 got all the Bears at Granny's house. They're out ov practice.
  • Weekend Overall Score: 7.8/10
  • Advent Calender Pikchers: Sat- people playing cards an boozing, Sun- people dancing. Still no sign of eny Bears, then.

HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!

Gillingham wer playing an we all trundled down to Granny's so that we could listen to it on Radio Kent -it's a bit crackerly in Essex. Not totally werth it in the end though, as we lost. Poo. So it was consolatory choklit peanuts all round. I'm beginning to understand why Gillingham fans are so fat. I'd been told that it was just an illusion brort on by the black and blue hoops of the shirts. Now I suspect I hav been misled.

Mr Scooter-the-big-black-cat had an X-ray. This is a magic pikchur yewsed to photograph only yer bones, so quite useful fer Gillingham fans. In Mr Scooter's case the pikchur wassent good. He has nobbly bits where it should be smooth. So he has to take a medsin called GLU-CO-SA-MINE. Which is the same thing Daddy takes fer his back so I hope this nobbly back bizzness issent catching.

Enyway, Mr Scooter dussent like the taste so we carn't get the stuff down him. Granny tried hiding it in all the following:

at least 8 varieties of gooey cat food; mashed corned beef;
roast chicken; steamed coley; cod in butter sauce; pilchards in tomato sauce;
sardines in tomato sauce; chicken liver sandwich paste; marmite on buttered
bread (yum!); beef pate; pork pate; cream; eggy milk; tinned tuna.

Nothing worked. Mummy squirted some directly onto his paw so he had to lick it off, but he moves so fast (hence the name Scooter) that most of it landed on the carpet UNDER his paw, and then he went to bed with his back to us an sulked fer 2 hours.

I don't blame him! Imagine what it must be like to be offered yor favrit food, only to discover it's been doctored: "Hey, mummy, hav sum ov this big choklit cake...." "Mmm... thanks, Bob... mm.. eh... hang on.... ERRRR! It's got cod liver oil in it!" See? Not nice, is it?

So our mishon fer the week is to find a not-so-disgusting alternative that we might akchewally get down his throat. Wish us luck.

Bye fer now!

2 comments:

The World of Sebastian S. Sturgis, Cabin Boy said...

Just goes to show cats cannot be fooled like dogs.
Yer friend,
SEabass

B.T.Bear (esq.) said...

Hmmm...
The other cat, Mrs Fluffy, she has to have tablits too, an Granny puts them in corned beef. But Mrs F. spits them out, so Granny then puts it in another bit of corned beef, which gets spat out, so Granny uses another bit of corned beef, which gets spat out, so she uses another bit, and so on, till Mrs F. has had enuff corned beef, and THEN she swallows the tablit.

Dogs are obviously far more onnist. Bit like we Bears, in fact.

Bob