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 | Blogs > gowerboy > thoughtsfromtheedge > The Trials of Mook. |
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The fighting had been intense all day. Neither side had been able to gain advantage over the other, the battle ebbing to and fro until coming to a standstill around mid afternoon. Grateful for the sudden lull, Mook sank to his knees and rested his forehead on the ground. Blood oozed from numerous nicks and scratches, one sleeve was in tatters and his gashed cheek bled freely. Sick with exhaustion, he pressed two fingers to the back of his neck to try to alleviate the searing pain behind his eyes. The enemy had temporarily retreated to a fortified position. From his position Mook could hear a low growling, like the hubbub of voices heard from a distant marketplace. What demonic plans were being hatched he could only wonder. In all his career as a knight he had never come across such a cunning and resolute foe. None of the usual stratagems had met with success. Feints, parries, fierce sallies, all had been resisted ferociously. Not only that, but his opponent was fearsome in attack. Time and again, Mook had had to rapidly retreat before a whirlwind of blows, any one of which could have torn him asunder. Wearily, he got to his feet. He had not felt this tired since the Battle of Cas Newydd. Wave upon wave of woad-painted warriors had broken against the ranked shields of Mook and his comrades that day. From dawn until dusk they had beaten back charge after charge, littering the hillside with the dead and the dying. The slaughter had finally ended in parley and an agreement between the two sides to respect the estuary as a common frontier with shared access to the river. A shaky peace which, nevertheless, still held. But Mook knew there would be no truce today. Negotiation was impossible. This fight would last until one or the other capitulated. Cautiously, he started forward. No sound now came from the other side. He grasped the bucket of water more firmly. “Here, kitty. Good cat. C’mon, girl,” he pleaded. This was the last time, absolutely the last time, he would ever let himself be persuaded into giving Camelot’s resident cat, Bast, its annual bath. |
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1/11/2008 7:41 am |
ROFLMAO....Bast sounds like my cat... gad... you had me drawn into this...heheheee tooooooooooooooo funny.... thanks for my insomniac early morning giggle festWishing you happiness Misty
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1/11/2008 7:47 am |
Thank God we live in the modern age of wet wipes. I'm dyslexic. I scream Ho Dog instead of Oh God in the throes of passion.
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 1/11/2008 7:53 am |
I washed a cat once when I was a kid ... we all, I should say, the powerful gang of my neighborhood! Not so difficult, I can tell you, not so difficult 
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1/11/2008 8:50 am |
Isn't the toilet the place to wash a cat Melt. Flow. Evaporate into the bright sky
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1/11/2008 11:41 am |
My last cat refused to drink out of her bowl. She insisted upon drinking running water out of the faucet!. Giving her a bath simply required turning up the water pressure from the tap suddenly during one of her frequent drinks, and shoving the furry little  ball into the sink! TAKEN it yet? Yes or No? ( )
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1/11/2008 11:47 am |
That was a good one!
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 1/11/2008 4:30 pm |
times long before protective gloves, flushing toilets and drugs to sedate our furry friend no doubt..lol
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1/12/2008 2:21 am |
Vaccinating cats for rabies on the Hopi reservation one summer -- they were feral evil vicious things -- you had to capture them into a gunny sack and then manipulate the thing around from the outside to isolate the head out of the opening to deliver the vaccine into the scruff of the neck. You had to hold onto them tightly because scruffs of cat's necks are tough, but the dear things, snarl and struggle though they might, could not harm you, because, you see, they were in this gunny sack... I was left standing there firmly grasping a cat by its neck, gunny sack shredded, 20 pounds of muscle and sinew gyrating, razor claws slashing the air, while I tried to decide how to put it down. Anslatetra istha, Iendfra inderfa -- Elvish for Translate this, friend finder
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1/12/2008 3:20 am |
You twicked us. Peace .. elaine67
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1/13/2008 10:26 am |
You got me with this one and actually got a smile out of me GB (reason I don't like calling you that is because of George Bush, by the way although at least you don't have the middle name of Wilberforce which helps). As someone who regularly bathes her cats I loved this piece. Over time I've come up with a mesmerizing technique which has my cats so relaxed that they don't even realize what's going on until 2/3rds into the bath. I now add brainy and witty cartoons of the adult variety to the possibilities I see in your writing. I put Take II of my article on the Writer's blog. It will probably make you crazy because I took out things as suggested, but I may have added too much new stuff as well.
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1/13/2008 3:37 pm |
LOL ! I love it when the story has an unexpected end, and you're a master of it ! SL Keep love in your heart ! SL
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1/13/2008 5:10 pm |
Camelot has a cat?? Enjoy the ride. All you take with you when you leave is the experience.
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1/13/2008 8:12 pm |
Awesome. Two thumbs up for naming the cat Bast.
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1/14/2008 6:08 am |
ROFLMAO....Bast sounds like my cat... gad... you had me drawn into this...heheheee tooooooooooooooo funny.... thanks for my insomniac early morning giggle festHe was big and he didn't like baths. I still bear the scars to prove it. Glad you liked it.
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1/14/2008 6:08 am |
Thank God we live in the modern age of wet wipes.
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1/14/2008 6:10 am |
I washed a cat once when I was a kid ... we all, I should say, the powerful gang of my neighborhood! Not so difficult, I can tell you, not so difficult to do to wash a cat makes it seem not so easy. What was the name of the gang? The Helsinki Catwashers?
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1/14/2008 6:11 am |
Isn't the toilet the place to wash a cat
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1/14/2008 6:12 am |
My last cat refused to drink out of her bowl. She insisted upon drinking running water out of the faucet!. Giving her a bath simply required turning up the water pressure from the tap suddenly during one of her frequent drinks, and shoving the furry little ball into the sink!the taloned hairball that escapes is.
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1/14/2008 6:13 am |
That was a good one!
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1/14/2008 6:13 am |
times long before protective gloves, flushing toilets and drugs to sedate our furry friend no doubt..lol Geneva Convention or something similar?
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1/14/2008 6:14 am |
Vaccinating cats for rabies on the Hopi reservation one summer -- they were feral evil vicious things -- you had to capture them into a gunny sack and then manipulate the thing around from the outside to isolate the head out of the opening to deliver the vaccine into the scruff of the neck. You had to hold onto them tightly because scruffs of cat's necks are tough, but the dear things, snarl and struggle though they might, could not harm you, because, you see, they were in this gunny sack... I was left standing there firmly grasping a cat by its neck, gunny sack shredded, 20 pounds of muscle and sinew gyrating, razor claws slashing the air, while I tried to decide how to put it down. It's all very well to have a tiger by the tail, but how long are you going to hold on for?
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1/14/2008 6:15 am |
You twicked us.
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1/14/2008 6:17 am |
You got me with this one and actually got a smile out of me GB (reason I don't like calling you that is because of George Bush, by the way although at least you don't have the middle name of Wilberforce which helps). As someone who regularly bathes her cats I loved this piece. Over time I've come up with a mesmerizing technique which has my cats so relaxed that they don't even realize what's going on until 2/3rds into the bath. I now add brainy and witty cartoons of the adult variety to the possibilities I see in your writing. I put Take II of my article on the Writer's blog. It will probably make you crazy because I took out things as suggested, but I may have added too much new stuff as well. What happens in the last third of the bath? The updated version of your article is still not showing on the Writers' Workshop.
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1/14/2008 6:18 am |
LOL ! I love it when the story has an unexpected end, and you're a master of it !SL
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1/14/2008 6:19 am |
Camelot has a cat??
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1/14/2008 6:20 am |
Awesome. Two thumbs up for naming the cat Bast.
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1/14/2008 6:29 am |
It's possible to wetwipe a cat? I'm dyslexic. I scream Ho Dog instead of Oh God in the throes of passion.
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1/14/2008 7:11 am |
Very gingerly.
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1/14/2008 8:34 am |
Just the fact that you needed your powerful neighbourhood gang to do to wash a cat makes it seem not so easy. What was the name of the gang? The Helsinki Catwashers?  You just missed the "Super"  It was not difficult at all, as I wrote and I stick to my original report. The gang was needed for planning and coordination issues
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1/14/2008 8:57 am |
oh boy! Your perspicaciousness amazes me. How could you guess that soo right??? You just missed the "Super" It was not difficult at all, as I wrote and I stick to my original report. The gang was needed for planning and coordination issues "Super Helsinki Catwashers" emblazoned on the back in metal studs?
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1/14/2008 9:22 am |
So have you still got the leather jacket with "Super Helsinki Catwashers" emblazoned on the back in metal studs? 
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1/14/2008 11:16 am |
unfortunately not. I became too small, as you may imagine -- I was just a kid then -- I have donated it to the animal protection association. I had to purge for certain wrongdoings ... your secretive past may contain.
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1/14/2008 6:00 pm |
And if the cat isn't ginger? And maybe sunglasses, just as well, too. I'm dyslexic. I scream Ho Dog instead of Oh God in the throes of passion.
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1/14/2008 10:58 pm |
Tell Mook to bring a towel and back up. (Had to give my cat medicine for a week) Poise is the art of raising eyebrows instead of the roof.
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1/15/2008 8:41 am |
Well, if it's a Sphynx, it definitely needs sunblock. And maybe sunglasses, just as well, too.
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1/15/2008 8:42 am |
Tell Mook to bring a towel and back up. (Had to give my cat medicine for a week)
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