Lard Arse
Charlie came to me the day before my birthday.
We went for a drive that day. We bought some lunch, and realised we were near the RSPCA centre. I thought it would be nice to go and look around.
Being a little loopy, I took the wrong turning on the roundabout and ended up on the motorway heading home. But I really wanted to go, so got off at the next junction, turned round, and went back. Making sure I took the right exit.
I didn't see Charlie right away. We went through both wings of the cat centre and I wanted to go back to the first again. The Baron wanted to go home.
We saw the cage at the same time. It had a notice on it asking people not to touch the glass as the cat was very nervous of people. We went over, but we could see no cat. We saw a huge lump under the blanket.
Some children came in the centre and the door slammed shut. The blanket moved to reveal the biggest, and most evil looking cat I had ever seen. I looked at him, and he looked balefully back at me, thinking I had made the noise.
I looked at the Baron. He nodded.
We asked to have him taken out of the cage so we could meet him properly. We were refused. Charlie had bitten too many of the staff, and he was not allowed to be handled for health and safety reasons.
I said I would take him. I just wanted him out of that cage.
The assistant looked at me as if I was mad. "He bites, you know".
The home check was waived. They bundled him into a cage and let us take him straight away.
We didn't get on at first. He didn't like me, and he let me know it. With bites, scratches, hisses and spitting.
But now, nearly ten months on, Charlie is my special boy. He sleeps with me. He lays in my lap. He purrs like a rusty old motor. And he lets me rub his huge fat belly.
I love my Lard Arse.
Lard Arse 
posted by DMouse007 @ 12/02/2004 10:26:00 PM
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