Friday, 30 September 2016

Carlton the Gardener

It's Friday - the day Carlton takes over my blog. Views are his own and not necessarily, in fact, rarely, shared by the blog owner.

Carlton The Gardener

by Carlton Cat

LAST week the Mrs was toiling over a sketch pad, mapping out a floral blueprint for the garden. For the spring she envisaged a plot covered by swathes of brightly-coloured daffodils, narcissi, tulips and lily of the valley. The Mr and Mrs then spent all morning planting spring-flowering bulbs.

I spent all afternoon digging them up again.

Look, I thought I was being helpful. To my aesthetic sensibilities there were far too many bulbs, they needed thinning out and I was the one to do it. I can’t deny I took some kind of pleasure from the task. It was very satisfying getting my paws dirty, digging down, searching around and then hooking out the little bulb.

I was tidy. After playing with the bulbs, throwing them up in the air and pouncing on them, I lined them up neatly outside the back door.

Busy in the garden

My task done, I padded across the kitchen floor, into the sitting-room and up onto the sofa, leaving clumps of dark brown soil as I went.

The Mrs arrived home from work, humming brightly. She dumped her work paraphernalia in the hall and flung open the sitting-room door. Her mouth fell open.

“Carlton!” she yelled. ‘What have you been doing?’ Her eyes followed the trail of mud from door to sofa. Tutting, she went to fetch cleaning products.

She must have opened the back door because I heard a sharp scream. ‘Noooooooo!’

There’s a saying, isn’t there, ‘discretion is the better part of valour’, which, to paraphrase means 'get the hell out of there before you get your arse whipped’. I took off for my hidey hole under the shed where I stayed for a couple of hours cleaning off my paws and snoozing. I waited long enough for the Mr and Mrs to get worried about me. It started to get dark and I heard them calling.

I tentatively approached the Mr and wound myself around his legs. He picked me up.

“There you are! You’re a very naughty boy, aren’t you?” But his voice was soft, not angry.
The Mrs  tickled me under the chin.

“What are we going to do with you Carlton?” she said, and sighed quite loudly.

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  1. Oh dear, I am so sorry your contributions to gardening were not appreciated Carlton. Maybe next time. You were very wise to go and hide though.

  2. You are too funny :) I am glad she saw the humor in it ..

  3. Oh, you naughty, naughty kitty digging up the bulbs. Other than the fresh dirt, I wonder what inspired you to dig them up? Hopefully they can be replanted and they'll bloom next spring.

  4. Oh dear! Sometimes our best efforts to help are misunderstood and unappreciated. I am glad you didn't get in too much trouble, it does sound like a fun game, digging them all up, but next time think about how much you will enjoy stalking thru the jungle of pretty flowers and napping in their lovely smell before you go to digging! :-)


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