Momma cottoned onto the fact that this had been happening as ManSlave was always complaining that Mr Elton's snacks were missing.... How odd? Hmmm, on closer inspection of the cardboard makeshift castle under the kitchen table, packets, upon packets of ducky treats were found chewed and all the snack gone. That put an end to hair ties closing the doors. So this week, there has been a new lock - SHRIMPAGE!
Not two days later and ManSlave is highly perplexed at a newfangled contraption stitching our doors closed, so much so he couldn't gain entry to his cereal boxes and had to ask me how to undo it. I show him.... "You see that red and yellow toy prawn with it's antennae eaten off?" I mewl at him smacking my paw at the Prawn. "Well, you get him by his tail and poke his head through that loop twice." He does it and the shrimp gets tighter and it's face contorts into a pinch, the prawn, not ManSlave. "Not that way dummy, we tried that way. You poke him the other way. There, that's it, you are doing it." It becomes slack and I tap it again and cry out "Now unhook the yellow elastic and you are in and beyond that the treats lie." He opens the cupboard, retrieves his box of oats and quick as a flash Mae is in it's place poking about on the top shelf. ManSlave blindly shuts the door and replaces the shrimp AND DOESN@T GIVE ME A TREAT. I shall be sick on the floor later to 'attract' his socked foot to!!!!
Ten minutes later there is a banging at the door and there we all are, humming up at the cupboard for Mae to be released. Flaire tries the shrimp, she twists him too far and his head looks fit to pop off but the banging stops. Has she run out of air in there? Nope, it's OK, it's the shrimp keeping the doors tightly closed. We look aver at ManSlave, he is just ploughing through his oats and reading the paper. We are not sure how much longer she can survive in there on her own. Flaire goes over, plonks herself on his paper and we all begin to hum louder and ManSlave takes notice. He stands up, scratches his head, takes a step towards us, places his bowl down, rubs his tummy and decides another small portion of oats won't hurt. He fights again with the shrimp, who by this time is feeling quite dizzy, and opens the door.
Mae parkours from the top shelf over ManSlaves shoulder and around the kitchen at high speed, twisting, flipping and bouncing everywhere. Obviously too many E-numbers in those treats!! ManSlave is taken aback and actually 'checks' the inside of the cupboard in case any more of us appear out of cereal boxes? Thankfully, he is satisfied and forgets to have another serving of oats and neither do any of us GET A TREAT!!! We are keeping his mind sharp as a tack don't you know - that, or sending him slowly mad....
Yesterday, ManSlave went out hunter gathering and brought us home a free range chicken. Not out usual Red Legged Leicester as the breeders slowed down when the bird flu was rife. So he chased this one around Morrisons apparently and subdued it in the snacks isle. I shall keep a close eye on it in our hot box in case it does a Mae and begins an athletic jaunt about the kitchen. This wee beastie is mine and I shall keep my paw on it's progress throughout the day. It's browning body gives me quite the bird buzz. Don't worry, there are carrots, green beans, potatoes and tiny Brussels for the faint hearted.
I shall bid thine fare-thee-well and have a wonderful Mothering Sunday to all my lovely ladies out there. Your Queen Vee =^..^=