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Glenderg
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Free to a good home - fat old ginger bastard male cat who will happily play with you , then behind your back, jump up on your counter and eat your GORGEOUS CHICKEN DRUMSTICK that you had spent some time oogling over. Likes randomly pissing on couches but handy alarm cat - tries to scratch your eyes out at 6.a.m. Any takers?

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Free to a good home - fat old ginger bastard male cat who will happily play with you , then behind your back, jump up on your counter and eat your GORGEOUS CHICKEN DRUMSTICK that you had spent some time oogling over. Likes randomly pissing on couches but handy alarm cat - tries to scratch your eyes out at 6.a.m. Any takers?

 

Sounds suspiciously like Ockie our black-short hair domestic who dares the train to run her down.

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House rules, Richie... You need to name a price! :P

 

I thought " Free to a good home" had its own clearly defined rules by virtue of the language therein;) Just in case, the hoor ate my food, does not catch his own, prefers static life to movement, and happily craps enornmo poo's, particularly when visitors are present. On a good note, he freaks out Mr Bracken, so lets start the bidding at three cents.

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  • 3 months later...

A quantity of moons ago, a stray cat was seen around Whitehead and was fed by then-volunteer Jim Bromfield, before he relocated to England in the late 90s. Overnight, the loco shed's significant rat problem was solved.

 

Fast forward ten years, and a family of strays moved into the environs of Downpatrick loco shed. Ditto.

 

These creatures have their uses. Just in case of need, I have lent a quantity of detailed railway history books to the cat who currently owns my eldest daughter.

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Think there was such a thing as a stipend for food for the shed cat in BR days so they were semi-officially on the payroll.

 

http://www.purr-n-fur.org.uk/featuring/wk-rail04a.html

 

That's pretty cool, naming cats "gasket" "smokebox" and "vandal". There's a bunch of strays here that when I open the back window spraying, it's like the shutter came up at a soup kitchen - twist(please sir, can I have some more) , screech (meow is broken), chiseller (loves knocking over the chisel I use to keep the window open), and fat dave (There's always a lecherous overweight fellow pestering young hotties in nightclubs....) :P

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Dog

 

Brilliant! Master and mistress took me for a walk. I smelled a new neighbouring dog today. Brilliant!

 

Then they got me a fresh bone, brilliant!

 

The furry creature just sits on the window ledge, that would bore me. But I can run round the garden, which is absolutely brilliant!

 

I rolled on the carpet and they tickled my tum and bought me a new bouncy ball. Excellent life!

 

 

Cat

 

Day 1453 of my captivity.

 

The four legged one is obviously in cahoots with both the two legged ones. They attach him to a lead every day and take him somewhere. They are obviously plotting how to keep me captive.

 

They bought him a round thing which seems to fly all over the place when they throw it. The four legged one runs after it and brings it back to them, despite their evident efforts to throw it away.

 

This can only draw me to conclude that the four legged one and both the two legged ones are equally stupid. Yet they conspire to keep me here.

 

Day 1454 of my captivity.

 

I awoke, had a drink, and a lengthy cat nap. The four legged one is running about the garden. This appears to me to be further proof of its intellectual deficit, as there is nowhere for it to go. It appears to have no concept whatsoever of the freedom to be gained by climbing trees. Clearly, the two legged ones don't either, as every time I climb the tree they pull me down and bring me indoors.

 

The two legged ones have bought me some sort of plastic device which they call a "toy". I have no idea what they intend me to do with it.

 

It's enough to drive me to more catnip. I use this to dull the realities of life in such surroundings.

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