Good Day my fine friends, today’s picture is another of a blighted pet pals plight.  I had been to visit M’ clearly miserable chum here whom I had not seen for a considerable passage of time and was appalled to find his declined state of affairs as why! the last time I had visited him he had a such an enviably slender physique I battled surreptitiously with a rising resentment and to this day I hold a honest belief twas the causation of the transatlantic size O epidemic in modally and wannabee types.

There he was all slumped and wallowed in his pit of self-pity sporting a veritable extravaganza of socially offensive scorn which that wreaked unruly havoc to his once handsome visage.

“What on Gods good earth has befallen you my almost repugnant pal, your scowl will bring about nightly mares to all the misfortunates who pass within its vicinity”

“O LemMe I’m so overly concerned I’ve lost my appeal that tis making me most melancholy, I fear I’m only kept to ward off the rascally rodents that truth be told do run amok and ridicule my state.  One overly taunting type did nestle about my rear top left person just below my shoulder and annoyingly out of reach, for at least three days and only left under threat of obvious doom when I was subjected, by my once luverlee Laydee of the house, to my twice weekly brisk whisk over with a suitable Hoover appendage to cleanse me of wayward fodder droppings, Yes the little blighters freak me beyond belief.  I’m too cumbersome to give chase even if there was the remotest possibility of mustering up any semblance of nerve.

I’m fed nought but this inferior fodder which has been the causation of the ruination of my once fabulous form, my nerves are shredded beyond repair and the meeces taunt me.  Do you know I spent 2 and a half hours last week, after much difficulty manoeuvring my ample form, perched securely inside the bathroom sink to avoid a mouse that stealthily observed me and remained poised threatening to pounce upon my quavering self should I bid for escape when the’ once adoring mistress barged in, bravely plucked up the vermin, plunging me further into a despondent state thinking I'd best be packing me bags now the truth is out, and brutally, I thought in my mistaken impulsive conclusion, shimmied the little bounder up and down and about her calloused feet as twas only a pumice stone.  I was about to embark on a sigh of relief, an embarrassing blush and a chuckle when I had to bear the wrath of `Why I had performed a bodily innard function in the said receptacle for, despite only a twice weekly cleanse, usually only hygienic purpose.

Well I was saddened and maddened at such a state of selfish affairs and said lets be having a word with the master of the house this is no way to be treating a once, nay! still-faithful pet

So I ventured
“M’Chap you are not, I rightly assume, the renowned cat master Old Whittington Dick or whatever therefore there is no need for you to be under the false belief that my pal must be the victorious catcher of all things vermin.  Lets be putting stops to this stereotypical shackle and leave him be, but whilst I’m fired up and before my bravery does wane I would like to stating will you stop this Dickensian charade of Mr Bumble type as my pal is named Orville not Oliver therefore these meagrely meals of gruel and his constant want of more are to be stopped unless you want reporting to elders, betters or enforcers of laws.  So Ginger Tom here needs, forcibly if necessary, extracting from these controls of remote manipulation of `questionable` entertainment and a diet of fishy edibles had best be resumed in order he might regain his former form, a healthy constitution and his apparently rapidly declining will to live.   Tis abominable no doubt due to a oooooh I’m soooo cute new kitty on the block”

Suffice to say my threats were heeded and my pal is well on the road to rodent-free recovery.