Wednesday, November 07, 2007

A Woman scorned.

I went into the spare room last night, that we at Birdwatcher Towers grandly refer to sometimes as the "TV room", and found the Munch (smallest BW) on the sofa bed with Moonshine (his hamster with the enormous testicles). I have nothing against Moonshine, indeed I have a soft spot for him and he often entertains me on my late night vigils at the computer desk by going round and round for me on his very noisy wheel. I draw the line at him running around our upholstery though. And for good reason.

Before the joyful day when I met Mrs BW, I spent six years living with a woman who not satisfied with the Birdwatcher as company and amusement on long dark winter evenings felt the need to surround herself with small furry animals. She had a hamster called Larry* that she used to let run around the house. I would come home from work and find that all the doors leading off the hall (all two of them) would be closed and the cry, "don't come in Larry's running around" would be what greeted me. I would have to wait in the hall or go upstairs until f***ing Larry had finished running around, and I was allowed the run of our house. There was a funny side. The hamster would run up and down the bottom of the French windows, presumably trying to find a way out. The cat (banished to the outside for obvious reasons) would periodically throw itself with some violence against the outside of the window in an effort to get in at Larry. How tempted was I to form a temporary alliance with the cat and help it in its quest!

The relationship finally came off the rails and I came back one Sunday night, from a satisfying weekend in Bath, and noticed that the cat had gone. Then realised that the girlfriend had gone to and taken most of her clothes. She kindly let me know about a week later by phone just in case I hadn't managed to work it out for myself. I did the decent thing and let her keep the cat and settled into a comfortable life of work, chess, pub and occasional weekend trips to Bath (to watch the rugby)

It was a couple of weeks later, I was rooting though the wardrobe trying to find a decent pair of trousers. I noticed that there were piles of material on the floor. I investigated further. There were teeth marks and signs of chewing on all my best pairs. Someone had let Larry "run around" my wardrobe, and the little bastard had chewed the bottoms of my trouser legs. I have heard about chaps having their suits and shirts cut up into pieces by wives and girlfriends seeking revenge but setting a small furry rodent to do the damage struck me as a bit below the belt, especially as I had not done anything above or below the belt to justify it.

So Moonshine had better watch out. The first sign of chewed trouser leg and there will be trouble.

* She got Larry as a sort of third choice. First on her list was a Spider. A big one. She even took me down to the pet shop to show me. Me that goes faint and panics at an ordinary house spider. The man picked it up and asked me if I wanted to stroke it. He guessed right from my body language that I didn't. Then it was a snake. I think I bought the bloody hamster for her in the end. In fact I agreed that she could have two, more if she wanted. Women! Too devious by half.

6 comments:

Richard said...

I've never yet known a woman who needs a reason to let their rodents chew your trousers.

fiwa said...

lol...sounds like you were better off without her anyway. Spiders... who would want a spider for a pet?! I thought for a moment you were going to say you found LARRY down among your clothes, that she had taken the cat and left you Larry as a parting gift!

Are you NaBloPoMoing or just being diligent in your posting?

The Birdwatcher said...

Richard - I guess you could say then that I was lucky it was only my trouser bottoms that were chewed.

Fiwa - You are right I was / am better off without her. When she left it really felt like the sun had come out from behind a very big black cloud. I'm sure it was mutual, and she felt the same way. Don't tell anybody but I couldn't work out how to sign up to NaBloPoMo. So I am just being diligent.

I, like the view said...

when the ex left he packed up everything he wanted to take and left loads of stuff behind; I threw most of it out when I moved, except for his school photos (you know, those framed ones that mothers proudly display, progression thru school from bright-eyed youngster to surly-faced teen, rugby and other sports teams throughout the ages etc)

every single thing he has since come back and asked for, unfortunately ended up in the dump; but when I asked if he'd like the school photos back he looked at me very quizically and said no

it's a funny old world

(in the old house we had moths in the wardrobe, so all the clothes had disintegrated anyhow)(that would have been a much shorter comment, wouldn't it!)

Reg Pither said...

Sounds like you're well shot, BW! She probably only wanted a spider or a snake so that she would have something to aspire to!
Sorry to hear about the trousers. Still, look on the bright side. You'll be spoilt for choice as to what to wear when you end up on Desert Island Discs.

The Birdwatcher said...

ILTV Thanks for the longer comment though. I must admit that I would not want any of my school photos around My school days were not the happiest days of my life.

Reg Yes I was well shot of her. She was seriously weird. Never mind DID's what do you think I wear on holiday. It probably explains why no one will walk any where near me.