
I am not sure what to do with Reginald Perrin this weekend, you see my mother is visiting and she buried my last hamster alive. Yep the poor bastard was so cold (as I had to keep him in the unheated unused spare toilet) that he hibernated so we buried him. In her defence she did seem a bit disturbed when a friendly neighbour pointed out that he may have just been having a nice long sleep!
She never liked him though. My Mother was strictly against pets however we as a family still managed many goldfish, a rabbit (I killed that one), a hamster, 2 chipmunks and eventually two fairly large dogs. But I think she hated the hamster the most. This was probably because I had a habit of bringing him everywhere with me, tucked in to my pocket or a wee handbag so she was the one often left red faced explaining to the café owner that yes it was her daughter’s hamster and yes we would never come to their establishment ever again.So she hated pets but I think she let me have so many because I’m an only child and we moved a lot, it was a form of compensation. As in sorry you have no friends and no siblings but here feed the fish or stroke the chipmunk. Incidentally chipmunks are pretty cool pets.
Anyway Mother arrives tomorrow and I have stocked up on the provisions, well I have 2 litres of gin so now all I have to do is tell Reginald not to stay in one place too long, cos quick as you know she will have him in King Edwards cigar box wrapped in a bin bag and six feet under.
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