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Friday 17 December 2010

Bites, Blights and Human Rites

There's never a dull moment here in Northumbria. As soon as I adjust to a feline existence and settle down to hunting a tasty mouse like all cats are wont to do, I find that hear some piece of gossip from the soothsayers that stirs the curiosity in me, and gets my claws itching.

Yesterday - or was it the other day? (I'm finding the days rolling into each other like drunks), I heard that some foreign visitor to these Anglo-Saxon shores was permitted to remain in this country. Nothing unusual in that, you and I might say. But what makes this of particular significance is the fact that this specimen of erstwhile humanity has been guilty in the past of some execrable offenses against young and vulnerable human beings. The Moot which dealt with his case should have immediately sent him back to his country of origin, but they decided - against their better judgment - that he should serve his term is jail over here in Northumbria. Since his release - having served his debt to society along with elderly women who've allowed their dogs to adorn the footpaths with logfish of various hues and textures - he has applied for a permit to remain in Northumbria. Perhaps he finds this place more convenient for his offenses. Perhaps the jails are nicer. Perhaps he loves the Anglo-Saxon sense of tolerance and fair play which the soothsayers are constantly banging on about. And he has been granted his residency. He is free to re-offend in our beautiful country. Why? Because of the Human Rights Act, which was approved by the Witangemot to bring Northumbria into line with the Holy Roman Empire (which is neither holy, Roman nor an empire). Are some humans complete idiots?

I'd be delighted to arrange a meeting between him and my mate Leo; he's held in a cage for no greater offence than being a large and hungry cat with a big shaggy mane and a thunderous miaow. I would cheerfully arrange for Father Simon the Cowl or Brendan the jovial Irish monk to administer the last rites to the miscreant. Whoever let this nasty piece of work remain in the country could also be well served with an encounter with my big friend. I'm always ready to provide a service to my fellow-creatures - especially those of the cat family. If only I could open that cage door...

2 comments:

  1. You could sell tickets for that, and probably reduce our deficit!

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  2. Now, that's the kind of enterprise this Kingdom needs. Thanks for the suggestion - I'll have a word with Caedmon - or better still, Father Simon the Cowl.

    ReplyDelete