Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Pusillanimously pursuing Mr P

Remember my quest (yes, that I set myself - not by Gandalf the Grey - but that doesn't make it any less worthy or less deserving of a movie or three) to find out who or what Mr P was?

Some of you thought he might be a rat or a cat, or perhaps even a particularly frugal human with a fondness for geraniums but today I decided to find out.

Sort of. So that the residents of Mr P's house could see that I did not come bearing weapons, ill will or religious reading matter, I dragged Sapphire and Milly along for pictorial and moral support. Sapphire stood at their gate rolling her eyes and trying to juggle her backpack, viola case and Milly's tautly stretched lead as I ventured up their steps with a 'here's one I've prepared earlier' friendly smile and knocked on the door.

Wait a second ---- why was their screen door open? Surely that was a bit of a gift for any light-fingered locals seeking some loot?

Then I heard it - Ba-whooompa, Ba-whoooompa, Ba-whoooompa, BANG!

Some huge beast dwelling inside had detected my presence, smelled that I'd taste somewhere between a sweet-soaked chicken and a box of Lindt balls and had come crashing eagerly inside, up the hallway and smacked straight into the back of the front door which shook. On the other side of the door I was glad of being clad in dark-blue jeans that hid most fear stains as flecks of paint on the door were dislodged by the angry animal's charges and dropped onto the doormat which, I noted queasily, was once a firmly-woven, thick, naval decking style job now chewed to tassley smithereens. Not the most encouraging welcome.

Grrrrrrr - snort - Grrrrrrrr. This wasn't helping either. "Hello," my voice croaked, "Is anybody home with you, er, buddy?"

Grrrrrrr - snort - Grrrrrrrr. "Um, Sapph?" I turned and called out in my fake cheery voice that never convinces her. Or me. "I'll, er just pop my business card and this little note into their letter box here and hope that whatever mutant mammoth is in there manages to stay in there, before we run for our lives at my count of three, OK?"

The door growled again and pulsated again, with more flakes of paint littering what remained of the door mat.

"One two three GO!"


Baino said...

Haha . . now you know you've got to go back! Had a friend once who had to keep replacing the fly wire on their front door. If they let the dog in at the back it made a b-line for the street and just barged through the thing to make it's escape!

Kath Lockett said...

Ohhh, so that's why the screen door was open - because the mutant mammoth inside keeps destroying it..... Not that this fact makes me feel any better, Baino!

Anonymous said...

The dog in the pic looks so pleased and proud!

What kind of house is it?

Kath Lockett said...

It's one of those cute, 1890s workers' cottages - one of dozens in a row with a 'Poo Cart Lane' at the back.

....why, should I be even MORE worried?

myninjacockle said...

Clearly Mr P was eaten by the behemoth.

Don't go back.

squib said...

The phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' comes to mind in big wolfish letters

River said...

Ah geez, now I'm REALLY curious. Who or what was/is Mr P, what kind of dog/mutant/alien is the door breaking creature, what type of human owns such an animal in such a tiny house? You're going to have to get an unmarked vehicle, an esky of FUIC and chocolate and stake out the house until you've ascertained such facts and decided whether or not it's safe to approach said human to find out the who and what of Mr P.

Kath Lockett said...

(Gulp), I will River, I promise you.... I *did* leave a really nice note in their letter box, but no calls just yet.

I might try knocking again (tries to stop shuddering in fear 'cos it makes it hard to type), on the weekend when the beasts' owners might be home....

Eric said...

No more Easter bunny... how sad :( ha ha ha