Dear You

Malicious streak awoken...

Dear you,

Malicious streak awoken, I waited for them there on the rocks. I know, I thought, I’ll leave them. I won’t help them, no matter how much they cry and beg and simper. But of course, I did in the end. I’ve not grown that hard on bitter bones. I relented. I softened. I rolled over and let them rub my pinky belly.

Yours now once more their Cinderella-cum-jester, polishing the picnic set silver for the next fine day,
X

(Postcard collage title: I have you covered.)

They picnic outdoors with good silver, the very picture of relaxed luxury...

Dear you,

And so the experiment continues. I thought I could leave, but my subjects prove of great interest to me still. They adopt all manner of funny laws and peculiar ways. They picnic outdoors with good silver, the very picture of relaxed luxury — which I could get used to. And they taunt and tease each other until they cry — which I cannot get used to. I may have a thick pelt, but not a thick skin, as the expression goes, and am reduced often to tears behind the shrubbery. ‘Just a joke, just a joke,’ they coo. ‘Don’t take it so seriously, it was only a bit of fun,’ they tell me as they glue my tail back on to my rump.

Heading soon to somewhere better for the soul, just as soon as I finish the last of the jam drops. Ruled by my stomach, kept small by their barbs, but still in awe of a great many of their ways, pulling myself free will be like pulling paw off exposed cabling.

Yours, the butt of the joke once more,
X

(Postcard collage title: The usual Sunday fare.)

Their power fixation knows no bounds...

Dear you,

Rather lost my head, it seems, to the bright lights of Blackpool. Neither the first nor the last to do so, I waddled about in the pier feeling myself a giant and over stimulated goose. Quite the transformation, that, for a majestic Emperor Penguin (Aptenodytes forsteri) on annual holiday. Once more, I am fascinated by the human animal and their light globe mania. Their power fixation knows no bounds. They’ve made it a god and master. The electric hum holds me tight. Must shake free and return to my senses…just as soon as I stop playing with the flick, click, clickity-click switches.

Yours considerably less illuminated than before,
X

(Postcard collage title: Made discernible by the glowing light.)

I take great delight in small moments of everyday rebellion...

Dear you,

Sometimes I take great delight in small moments of everyday rebellion. I like to walk out of public restrooms with my paws unwashed much to the horror of the mothers nearby who are in the process of showing their children how to clean their hands properly. I like to shake my fallen hairs onto the neat person sitting beside on the tram. And I like to cross the road on the red man to the obvious displeasure of dog owners and parents trying to teach their canines and children a little road safety awareness. Such things may be small but the pleasure I derive from going against the norm and not being ‘conventional’ and ‘acceptable’ and ‘proper’, the pleasure it is huge. So long as no harm comes, I am content with this. It is one of the great joys of spring.

Yours, unruly, but not all bad,
X

(Postcard collage title: Mr Breton sends spring wishes.)