An old copy of The Times (January 30th) has just been doing the rounds. Well, Herbert had put it down on the floor to protect her woodshavings while she polished her shoes. It caused a lot of consternation and dismay, starting off with the suggestion that there would be 'pet police'.
Herbert, as the largest of the domestic animals, was adamant. 'But they don't make good pets!' she pointed out. 'They wouldn't be very pleased when I chew the buttons off their uniforms, pouch them and put them in my nest. And I don't think they'd be very nice to Mervyn.'
Mervyn was having a good look at the two copies of the paper as they floated past. 'Diet?' he queried. 'Does thish mean they'll want me to put tonic in my gin? Filthy, filthy shtuff. And whosh thish? Protection from pain? But I couldn't be happy without my hangoversh! They're my beshtesh matesh you know ...'
Puflet was really worried. 'But I moved out of that hole in a cliff side yonks ago! I don't want some bureaucrat moving me back in there again! Especially not after they've completely messed up my pension arrangements!' he muttered a bit. 'Living conditions - pah!'
The 29,000 floating ducks carried on floating. After all, they didn't have to worry about companionship. 'Wait for us!' squawked Puflet. 'We're all coming with you ...!'
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