Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Royal 69th Highland Attack Oboes NEED YOU!

The Royal 69th Highland Attack Oboes, Airborne Division is looking for a few good .....uh......beings!

The Royal 69th Highland Attack Oboes is dedicated to the defense of the Caladonian way of life by means of general debauchery, lewdness, and the development of double reed instruments as tactical weaponry, whilst wearing tiny kilts and bunneh slippers.

Many technical specialties are possible for those with suitable qualifications. Positions available include (but are not limited to) Duke of Earl, Lord and/or Lady SmellyBottom, Bikini Inspector, First Codpiece, and the ever popular Homicidal Maniac.

Potential recruits should make application to;

Amplebeak Tinlegs LP (Lustrous Potentate)
Tanglewood Forest
Caledon Tanglewood

Sunday, April 4, 2010

In Memoriam

1992 - 2010

'... I have had cats whom I liked better than this, ...but he is a very fine cat, a very fine cat indeed.'
Dr. Samuel Johnson
(As reported by his biographer James Boswell)

He was his master's faithful companion for just over 18 years. He had no regard for my fortunes or lack thereof and was my steadfast friend, often my only friend, through the bad times and the good.

He was cantankerous, imperious, and demanding but also considerate, empathic, and affectionate. And an excellent listener, though very opinionated.

He was the bane of rottweilers, yet he befriended my parents elderly poodle. He loved kittens and puppies, an unusual trait in a tomcat, and he adopted and raised several over his lifetime. My labrador retriever was one of those he took under his wing. I don't think he ever got over how large she grew to be, and so quickly.

The end came quietly in his sleep between the hours of 2 and 4 AM on the morning of April 25, 2010. He was in the company of those he loved, his master and his master's wife, and the other pets he shared a home with.

He is survived by his humans, two moggies, a labrador retriever, and a red-ticked coon hound.

After 18 years it is hard to adjust to his not being here. I can't read a book without noticing he isn't snuggled into my side as I sit in my old leather armchair. Every time I sit and read with a dram of whisky near at hand I shall be thinking fondly of him.

Aye, he was a fine cat and a fine friend. The finest of all the cats I have known.