Sunday 7 October 2007

I consider that I am a reasonable man. But, at present, I really am very, very angry.

In the first instance: Squirrels. The local wood in which I enjoy walking is absolutely teeming with them this year. Where have they all come from? I exhaust myself in chasing them on an almost daily basis, but still they will not pack up and go. They are ALL a bunch of rabid, slavering Nutkins, but one in particular causes more trouble than most. He dwells in a large beech tree at the farthest turning of the path. He is never seen but, bl**dy hell, he is heard. As soon as I get within his range he starts up the most infernal twittering and he has an abnormally loud voice for a small rodent. I suspect he has actually fashioned some kind of loud-hailer from an old nutshell and is using that to amplify his filth. For filth is all that pours from his mouth. I have given up shouting back at him; he is quite, quite mad. He sounds like Donald Duck on helium.

One of my friends did suggest greasing the trees, and this is the thought that cheers me as I fail again and again to catch the little grey tree-huggers. The thought of them leaping to the safety of the trunk and then squeaking in surprise as they slide inexorably down into my gaping maw. I asked my partner to buy me some WD40 but she refused. Dammit.

Secondly: Hedgehogs. Well, one hedgehog - THE hedgehog. He has been back for some time now, growing ever fatter on the food my partner puts out for him. I protested at this treachery, but my partner wearily told me that she is feeding him from the huge sack of dried dog food that she bought because I said I liked the free sample, and then subsequently refused to eat. No matter, I reply. Just because I don't want it, it doesn't mean it can go to contribute to the oversized, glutenous mess that is the hedgepig's ar*e. I'd be happier if the bl**dy squirrels got it, to be honest. The hedgepig has grown so complacent that he doesn't even run from my snarls now. He visits nightly - eating in my garden and then squeezing his considerable bulk under the gate to go and drink from my neighbour's water-feature. So often does he call that there is now a hedgehog-sized path clearly carved out from the other side of my gate to the water bowl. Well, laugh it up, spiked tubby, because the day will come when you are too fat to get all the way under the gate and you get wedged. Then we shall see how smug you feel while I am nipping off your willie.

Next on my list of vitriol is my partner. Not my partner herself, you understand, just matters arising from her affairs. She has been ill and unable to work since the end of August - she is due to begin a fantastic new job on 5 November (a HAPPY circumstance but, as you may have guessed, I am not in a happy mood today, so shall gloss over all extraneous happiness until another day). Well, she and I should have been merrily enjoying each other's company, but no. Oh, dear me, no. Cruel fate cannot let us alone for a merest moment of peace. Allow me to explain:

On 11 May, whilst en route to a job interview no less, my partner and my little Green Corsa were involved in a trifling accident in a car park. Nothing major (although a little unsettling for my partner. She didn't get the job, needless to say), and our car was not damaged. Damage to the other car involved can only have been a slightly-scuffed bumper and broken indicator light, at most. It was not easy to apportion blame. My partner had stopped at a 'Give Way' bit, the car approaching from the left had then stopped and signalled for my partner to proceed. My partner raised her paw in thanks and pulled out - at which point the other car drove into her. The other driver had misinterpreted her "thank you" as "no, no, after you." Hmmm.... Because my partner is not vindictive, she was happy to leave it as "equal blame" and each party sorts out their own repairs. This was the suggestion of our own insurers, which my partner was happy to comply with. Following the story so far? Good. All this was sorted out back in May. Then, THIS week, my partner rceives a letter from some solicitors - the other driver is SUING her for the total value of her car!! Growwwl...

In a state of some panic and despair, my partner rang up her insurers - who were not impressed. It seems that the other driver had not even bothered to send them her version of the incident. Double Growwwl.... Anyway the insurance company will deal with it, and they will tell the solicitors to b*gger off a damn sight quicker than I can. I hope the other driver gets stung with a bl**dy big legal bill, that's all I can say.

Oh dear, I am very cross, aren't I? But I feel a little better now - ahhh, blog therapy. You can't beat it. Although you can slap it around a bit.

Good night.