If I was at home wiv me mum
She’d put insects and worms in me tum
But what I’ve got here
I ain’t got no idea
If you ask me, it’s all a bit rum.
Trust me to fall out of the nest
You’d think I’d have stuck wiv wot’s best
But I fell in the grass
Got a bruise on me ***
And you can imagine the rest
As if that pain wasn’t enough
I heard a small dog going, “Ruff!”
I wound up in its mouth,
It was all going south
Till a man picked him up by the scruff.
He looked at the dog and said, “Drop,”
I fell on the ground with a plop
To save me more hustle
With his flippin’ Jack Russell
He wrapped me up snug in his top.
I suppose you could say it’s absurd
To feed doggy food to a bird,
But this clever old bloke
Gave it first a good soak
(Though it’s still not wot I’d have preferred).
The result of the story, you see
Is it turned out to be good for me
I stayed a bit longer,
Got bigger and stronger,
And when fit enough, was set free!
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 217 published on this site.
They said it would happen one day. I can’t say I hadn’t been warned.
How many times have I been told that they’re fed up with my incessant barking, that I shouldn’t go mental every time I see a cat? Or a mouse? Or a lizard? Or a bird? Or a frog? Or next door’s bloody spaniel pup? Or a car driving past our front gate? Or someone walking near our gate?
How often have they shouted at me for digging holes in the garden? I mean… why? I’m only trying to find the moles or whatever it is makes those mounds. And why shouldn’t I use their veggie patch as a toilet? What else is it for? It’s not as if they’re going to eat any of that damned stuff, is it?
But they don’t like me doing it, and they’ve said so more times than I can remember; so I suppose it’s my own fault.
But now they’ve gone, and they’ve left me here on my own.
I suppose I still have to guard the place, which is why I’m sitting in this… whatever it is I’m sitting in. Gives me extra height so I can see farther. Yes, I know it doesn’t raise me much, but with legs as short as mine, I’m probably twice as high sitting here as I would be on the ground. This is where I sit to guard the gate. That’s my job. And to wait for that nice lady who comes in the white van and brings my food, of course, but that’s for pleasure. Everything else is business; serious business.
You’d think they’d be grateful, wouldn’t you? Thirteen years I’ve been sitting here, keeping away anyone who might be aiming to come in and kill my humans. A lifetime of guaranteeing their safety. And it works. No-one has been killed on my watch. But all they can see is that I’m barking. In all that time, have they ever once asked me why I bark when I do? No, they haven’t. If they had, they’d have understood what I’m here for, what my job is, what I must do to ensure no harm comes to them.
It’s too late now, of course. They’ve gone. And this time, I don’t think they’re—
What’s that I hear?
MUMMY, DADDY – YOU’RE HOME!
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 216 published on this site.
“What are you photographing, Ralph?”
“Evidence of what?”
“Can’t you see what they’re doing?”
“Yeah – x-ray eyes, me. I can see what they’re making through brick walls!”
“You don’t need to see through the walls, Brian. You can see from here what it is they make.”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me, it’s not.”
“Look. What’s the biggest problem facing the world these days?”
“Okay, I’ll humour you. Biggest problem. Hmmm. International terrorism?”
“Poverty, starvation, polluted water, disease?”
“None of them.”
“Wars? Violent crime?”
“No. Global warming.”
“You mean Climate change.”
“Yeah. And what causes that?”
“Haha. Don’t tell me. Cows farting?”
“This is serious, Brian. And it’s not what so-called science says about carbon either.”
“Not carbon dioxide or methane?”
“No. Try this – when you look at they sky before you go to bed in winter, do you expect a colder night if it’s cloudy or if it’s clear?”
“Clear, of course.”
“Because clouds hold the heat in, obviously.”
“A-ha! And there’s the cause of Global Warming. Clouds.”
“You reckon? So all the science is wrong?”
“Pretty much all of it. Look at this factory and tell me what it’s making.”
“Don’t tell me. Clouds?”
“You’re having a laugh, mate.”
“Not at all. This is a cloud factory. They make the clouds that cause climate change.”
“I think you’re losing it, mate.”
“I’m not. I’ve been watching this place for a few months and you know what I’ve found?”
“They’re producing more cloud every day. And do you know why?”
“Go on then, tell me. I promise not to laugh.”
“It’s obvious. They’re stockpiling.”
“Hahaha. Sorry. Hahaha. Why are they stockpiling, Walt – I mean Ralph?”
“In case there’s a hard Brexit, of course.”
This was written in response to Kreative Kue 215 published on this site.