We are family

Howdy folks!

     Frank L. Fettle here again. Another question I'm often asked is 'what's the key to a long and happy life'. It's a simple question but it's one with many differing answers. One thing that comes near the top of my list, (just below the obvious things like a constant supply of oxygen), is good friends. They're worth their weight in cake. I've been incredibly fortunate to have had a constant family of friends throughout my life, most of whom I've outlived. But, for now, I'd like to introduce you to my current companions, Claude and Belle. They both live in the Catbird Craft art studio with me.

Claude - Studio Security

      Claude came from a rescue centre for felines. Within moments of his arrival at the centre it became apparent that his constant aggressive stance would make him a difficult case for re-homing. Being non-recyclable, the poor little fella was facing certain euthanasia at a local rubbish dump. So Catbird Craft offered him a job as studio security. His job description consists of 'deterring unwelcome visitors with the threat of fur and claws'. Although he unnerves any passers by who see him standing in the window, as a general rule, Catbird Craft don't have unwelcome visitors. So, in reality, Claude spends most of his days gazing adoringly at Belle. Claude knows that devouring your friends isn't the done thing so he resists. But we all know that he'd prefer her as a mid-morning snack. We think Claude is happy but it's very difficult to be certain. 

    Belle, (short for Campbell) also came to Catbird Craft via a rescue centre. She was found abandoned and unloved above a fancy dress shop in Clapham. Due to her plastic eyes, Belle's vision is far from perfect. Unfortunately she's also unable to fly, (nylon feathers don't quite give the lift of the real thing). So, unsurprisingly, the corvid hospital who cared for her deemed her wholly unsuitable for release back to the wild. With aviary space at a premium, it's unclear what would have happened to Belle had Catbird Craft not offered her the job of unofficial fire alarm. Aside from the afternoon somebody's new kiln melted she's not been particularly busy since her arrival. So, in reality, her days tend to involve stealing paintbrushes and avoiding Claude. Occasionally I do roller-skate at top speed across Blackheath common with her strapped to my shoulder. It's as close a sensation of flight as we can manage for her. It's not perfect but she appears content.

Anyway, folks. I must go and bake an apple pie.

My regards to you all,

Frank

x