So, it was Mother’s Day a while back here, and because I was really struggling with ideas on how to make Mum’s day really special, and because I heard that some of you out there have yet to take that hurdle in May, I thought I’d buzz about it this month.
We all love our Mums basically, don’t we? I mean, I know they can be really annoying, don’t get me wrong. I’m no longer naive. At almost four I’m fully aware of their shortcomings: the eyes in the back of their heads whenever we try to borrow a bit of food, the trickery they employ to force medicine down our throats, all those times when they shut the bedroom door.... I could go on, but I don’t want to seem churlish. Because, on at least one other paw, Mums do have their good sides also. They never pass an empty food bowl without refilling it immediately (as other members of the family have been known to do); they try hard to invent interesting games (it’s not their fault they can’t possibly compete with the excitement outdoors); and, most important of all, they clearly love us.
In view of all of which, I decided to do something really special for my Mum on Mother’s Day. But what? I tried to ask Tammy for an idea, but she just harped on about how Tigger (that name again!) never failed to delight Mum on Mother’s Day or on her birthday, by the wonderful stories he wrote – yada yada yada... I would clearly have to come up with my own idea.
I tried some party decorations at first: pretty bunches of weeds and artful paw prints on the kitchen floor, that sort of thing, which looked quite creative as a backdrop, but didn’t seem to make a real impact. It needed a wow factor.
That was when I remembered my hunting skills: of course! What could be easier? Mum would be absolutely delighted with one of my lovely kills. Off I went in search of the right prey. The field next door provides everything in abundance, particularly in springtime. The problem was that the mice I caught were just too delicious. Every time I brought one home and set about arranging it under the kitchen table, I just couldn’t help myself! Before I knew it, it was gone – down the hatch, just like that. All that remained on the carpet was the measly little stomach, inedible by anyone’s standards. It wouldn’t do. I tried bunnies next, easy to catch while they were young, but – same thing: I could simply not resist them. Hard as I tried, between the time I brought them home at dawn and the time Mum and Dad came downstairs for their breakfast, I’d usually polished off everything except the ears. I berated myself, I exercised self denial to the point of depression. Nothing worked, and Mother’s Day was drawing ever nearer.
On the very day itself, despair nipping at my hind paws, I finally struck lucky: I caught a fat rat in the neighbour’s garden. It was a very fine rat, and when I laid it out under the kitchen table, making sure its face and beady eyes pointed towards the kitchen door, I just knew I’d achieved my goal: the display was eye-catching and dramatic, just as I’d wanted it to be. And I was even able to resist taking a nibble, because, quite frankly, I wasn’t over keen on the smell.
I settled down on my cushion at the kitchen table and waited. It wasn’t long before I heard the floorboards creek upstairs, which meant Mum and Dad were on the move. I so hoped Mum would come down first! Endless seconds passed – how long could it take to jump out of bed and run downstairs? – before I was rewarded by the appearance of Mum’s green dressing gown on the stairs. Her eyes went straight to my gift as she entered the kitchen and stopped dead in total amazement. ‘Wow!’, she said, and I knew then I had totally fulfilled my mission. It just couldn’t get any better than this! Floating on a cloud of purring happiness, I watched as she admired her rat and was proud of me.
The very next day, Mum gave me a gift in return – a smart new collar. I’m not normally a friend of collars, but this one is super cool: black with silver paw prints. Annoyingly, it has a bell attached to it that jingles away loudly whenever I try to stalk my prey. A silly oversight on Mum’s part (she doesn’t hunt, you see), but I’ll soon get rid of it, don’t worry...
So, folks, if you’re stuck for that perfect Mother’s Day gift – and provided your Mum hasn’t already read Tigger’s book, which I understand was THE HIT last year and is still widely available now – then a fresh rat under the kitchen table cannot fail to delight that special woman in your life. Believe me. I know!
Till next time!