Caedmon was an early English Christian poet who lived in Whitby in the 7th century. The writer of this blog has no pretensions to such exalted gifts, and for this reason (as well as the fact that the name has already been taken) has chosen his Cat. They say that a cat can look at a king; this cat certainly does that. He's also had a good Christian education from his master, and he's quite prepared to use it when necessary.
Thursday, 21 April 2011
Caedmeron's Cat O'Nine Tails
Well - as I predicted in my previous posting - it worked. Caedmeron now has an invitation to the Greatest Show On Earth - the Royal Wedding between Prince Walthelm and Lady Gytha. I'm so pleased. Not because he's received his conspicuously absent invitation, I must hasten to add. I'm delighted because at last, this Cat has obtained some clout in the higher echelons of Northumbrian governance. And he will use it to good effect.
But - the paths of life are never straightforward or easy. As soon as one crisis is resolved, another arrives post-haste to take its place. Caedmeron - the Chief Cock and Bluebottlewasher of the Tree/Liberationist Administration - hasn't got the right clothes to wear for the occasion. Now, I find that difficult to believe. In fact, it carries the fragrance of bull poop - and this is why: I know for a certainty that Caedmeron's a well-heeled fellow who comes from a highly privileged background. He's not short of a groat or two; he can afford to purchase a finely-woven tunic, a silken cloak, and a shiny ceremonial sword and helmet for the occasion. Goodness me - he could probably buy a new set for every remaining day of his life. So, what's the problem? Apparently, he doesn't want to wear tails.
I am very annoyed about this. In fact I'm spitting with rage. After all my efforts to save his miserable face, I think the least he could do to acknowledge his indebtedness is to wear them. After all, it's not demeaning to wear tails; cats and rats, monkeys and donkeys, dogs and hogs all wear them - we have no choice. We all have a dignity of our own, bestowed upon us by our Creator. So, why is the temporary wearing of tails beneath his dignity?
I'm so mad that I'm going to go and see the hysterical soothsayer Dellimell again - and this time with a different story. Once she gets hold of this, there will be hell to pay. I can hear the baying of the lynch mob already.
Mark my words: Caedmeron WILL wear tails at the Wedding - make no mistake. He has no choice. The Cat has decided the issue for him. The consequences will be disastrous if he fails to comply.
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