Ian and I are still realing from the shock that we have a thief in our midst.
Doubly shocked as the thief in question is no other than Dookems. Dookems, our cat burgular.
Today, just before we went to Adelardo’s, we couldn’t find Dookes, and we both had a good look in all his normal hiding places – the dogs cages, in Davies special hiding place, in the Jasmine bush, but couldn’t find him. Ian was just about to look over the wall into next door to see if he had got over there and couldn’t get back when we saw him. Strangely he seemed to have a bit of sausage in his mouth.
This was strange – however behind him was the evidence of a whole sausage. One of those ‘horse shoe’ shaped ones which are held together with a piece of string. Behind Dookes was the piece of string with the ends of the sausage still in place but the middle missing. When I picked Dookes up his tummy was surprisingly large. The dogs were around & would have demolished this had it been there for longer than a second or two, and we had checked the yard a few minutes before so it must have been Dookes. Well that and the fact he had quite a lot of sausage in his mouth and a tummy that suggested he was either pregnant, auditioning for alien or had just ate rather a lot of food.
Ian has noticed that next door isn’t as derilict as it looks and has wondered if some of the houses further down the road extend next door. Our first neighbour that we know is Joaquin (jim and Viv you know him as he is theone that offered us sausage
Ian has kept the sausage – he says so we can take it to the neighbours and see if they can identify it is theirs. i hope he is not going to sneakily eat it later.
Anyway when we were at Adelardos we thought we would ask him how to translate ‘we think our cat might have stolen your sausage’, and he then asked his Dad the same of our neighbour (even though we new) and a long discussion ensued about how today is in fact our neighbours saints day – it is the day of Santa Joaquin.
We are sat here now, with everything crossed hoping that they hadn’t laid out a special saints day feast which Dookems chose to liberate the sausage course. Lets hope that there isn’t an ancient tradition of the sharing of the sausae on St Joaquins Day.
We will have to call and explain, as it will be around the village now (remember word travels fast here!). However at least if ‘word is out’ it won’t look quite so strange when we go round waving a bit of chewed sausage muttering something about ‘gatos’.
PS. Ian says he will have nothing to do with Dookems and he is no cat of his. He says he did not bring his cat up to have such little respect for his parents. I of course cooed softly and said that he was my little boy and could do no harm. Note: You need to have listened to the Archers tonight to understand the witty pastiche of the last sentence…