Dagwald Caedmeron really doesn't know what a charmed life he leads.
Since my last posting, there's been a dramatic change of direction in the Tree Administration, and consequently the proposals to reintroduce fox hunting have been put to one side - to the palpable relief of my bushy-tailed friend Feaxede.
Without any attempt to take the credit for such a development, your Cat would modestly like to point out that he has been the catalyst for this monumental volte face.
While contemplating the Creatures' Council proposal I outlined to you the other day, it suddenly occurred to me that Caddy's attempt to turn animals into fair game wouldn't obtain a sympathetic hearing from the Caledonian Independence Faction, whose sole existence in the Northumbrian Witangemot is - as the significant minority - to present a belligerent and largely incoherent problem to the Northumbrian Sassenachs, whom they courteously loathe, despise and detest. Since everything that the Sassenachs do is repugnant to their brutish and uncivilised eyes, I thought I might go and pay Caedmeron a casual visit. If he were to heed my counsel, he could save himself a great deal of embarrassment, since it doesn't look too clever to be losing votes as a newly elected majority faction. Besides which, the hassle of calling a Council of the Kingdom's animal population would be a logistical nightmare, and I'm at the age where frankly, I really don't need the aggravation.
After a gentle word in his shell-like ear, I departed and left common sense to finish the job in Caddy's addled noddle. The result is the Great Climbdown, which was deliriously slobbered over by the soothsayers.
Caedmeron has saved his own skin - not only from the machinations of the haggis hunters, but from the teeth and claws of legions of badgers, weasels, foxes and stoats...