Behind The Wire #05
Alright mates. Fred's 'ere again. I tell yer wot, it's been an 'ectic week in the ferret 'ouse.
There's this new bloke, right, calls 'imself Charles. Charles? That's a might too grand for 'im. 'E's a proper Charlie, more like. Great lumpin' thing 'e is. Wiv dirty brown legs and a green 'ead, jus' like them Jumblee things as went to sea in a sieve. Fat chance, cobbers, know wot I mean?
It's not just the intrusion, mates, it's the smell. 'E swears 'e's 'ad three baths this week but he like 'e's never 'ad a bloomin' good soak in 'is life.
An' 'e's a real lardy an, all. Too blinkin' fat to get into the nestbox. He 'eaves 'imself up onto the 'utch, but when he tries to get into bed, 'is stomach goes one way and he goes t'other, know wot I mean? I call 'im Fatso. I was mighty tempted to put a 'd' on't end, but the Misses sez that would be a tad vulgar for this 'ere 'igh class ferret book.
An', spare us, 'e's started makin' lots o' tunnels int' big straw pile over in't corner. Not that 'e 'as to dig, he just walks in 'eftily like, and the straw parts in front of 'im. Same as that bloke in the Bibly who parted the Red Sea.
I ventured in t'other day. Quite the Labyrinth, it is. Roun' an' roun' I flamin' puffed. I must 'ave passed the kit's pink play ball five bloomin' times, When I finally found the middle, blow me down folks, if the Misses wasn't there, curled up with Fatso!
She's been in a mardy ever since a 'uman visitor to the ferret 'ouse said she looked like a fancy rat. She's always been a flighty bird. T'other day, she reminded me that when I first met 'er, I 'ad a filfy black nose, which must 'ave slipped me mind, cos I don't recall.
Anyway, when I found 'em curled up, I wanted to land 'im one, left an' right. An' I would er done if I 'adn't felt like a blinkin' tug boat drawn up against the bloomin' Titanic. So I keeps me trap shut, know wot I mean mates?
See yer next issue, mates.
(From Ferrets First - April/May 2002 - #05)