That'll Bloody Learn Me! You'd hope.

And there was me defending Grumpy Ferret's honour by claiming that he'd been really good and not-really-very-bitey recently.

I believed it. I honestly did.

But first, a bit of background:

There is a certain blue, knobbly squeaky toy that the boys play with sometimes. It's actually quite stiff, so they never cause it to squeak themselves, but if I pick it up and squeak it for them they go wild.

Admittedly, I've never been terribly certain if this is because they really love the sound of it squeaking, or they really hate the sound. I'm actually still not too sure, but Biscuits definitely got a little over-excited this last time.

As did I, in fact, after he had leapt up and given the bottom of my thumb the Grip of Death.

I'm not proud of it, but I think I nearly strangled him in my attempts to dissuade him. All he decided to do, however, was take this as an opportunity to adjust his grip and clamp down again.

I have counted a total of 10 toothmarks on my hand, half of them bleeding slightly. I also have an attractive lump of flesh that is now only attached in one place by a thin piece of skin. This can be flipped in and out of the surrounding hand on demand.

And I actually swore very loudly when I cleaned this particularly nasty wound up, which isn't like me.

Well, swearing loudly is very much like me; but being such a girl about a little bit of antiseptic really isn't.

The final outcome?

Well, he's right back in the naughty books. Although, I did later let him lick my nose as a show of good faith.

I guess I never will bloody learn.

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Car Park Catch-Out

I'm seeing a theme emerge each time I visit a supermarket.

It involves a clever new idea that the police seem to have come up with involving trying to stitch people up in car parks.

Yes, it's the Police Trap Car.

For those of you who haven't seen this yet, this is basically a scheme that involves the local police combining a spare car with some surveillance equipment, and then planting it in a public car park. The plan is that – with a bit of luck – somebody will come over all light-fingered and then get caught in the act. And, presumably, arrested.

Admittedly, I'm not entirely certain if these fabled trap cars actually exist, or if (so cynical am I) money has just been spent purely on erecting signs that may function as a deterrent, but – either way – I am now studying all the parked cars with interest and suspicion.

I recently noticed – for example – about ten feet away from the nearest sign, a tatty old red van with open rear doors and tools lying messily in the back. Unfortunately, this is the exact sort of daftly optimistic set-up that I expect from people.

I'm also particularly suspicious of cars that are parked right next to the aforementioned signs. Because that's the exact sort of daftly optimistic double-bluff that I expect from people.

I would like to believe, however, that – in the case of the red van – I was actually witnessing a brazen triple-bluff being carried out by a plucky member of the public.

Although, I suspect that this time it's me who's being daftly optimistic.

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Presenting The Amazing Flying Guiseppe

No ferrets were harmed in the making of this blog.

Not even ones that seem to believe that they are impervious to gravity.

Give it time.

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