Not goodbye but au revoir

Dear faithful readers and friends

Again, been some time since last wrote to you, but much been happening over last few months.  As many of you will know, was in hiding in the north of Scotland, under police protection scheme.  Am now delighted to be back in Edinburgh again, particularly to be in old home, with flatmates Saussure, Notsaussure and Neville.

Had planned to resume Masters in Creative Writing, but been persuaded not good idea at the moment.  Plan B was to continue writing memoirs of Granny Elena.  However, surprise letter arrived in post last week from prestigious publishing company who had read my letters and wanted to publish them as a book.  Immediately contacted wisest friends: Oscar, Chi-Chi and Wilfred and met up to decide how I should respond.  Unanimous opinion was that I should accept offer, partly to establish me as serious writer, and also that it wouldn't prevent me from doing other forms of writing.













 Replied to publishing company agreeing to suggestion.  Met up in London - they flew me down there on first class ticket - word must have got round, because passengers kept walking past, looking at me, and I don't think this was because I am a cat.  Was booked into deluxe hotel, in large room with choice of four baskets to sleep in, my own chef with in-depth knowledge on how to cook fish, a pet groomer at my disposal, and an animal psychologist.  Needless to say when arrived at publishing house, felt as pampered as anyone could feel.

Henri insisted on accompanying me, convinced I couldn't make trip on my own, but secretly because he wanted to promote cookery book Guineapigging Out.  Was very put out that publishing company wouldn't even discuss giving him a contract for his self-published book. What's troubling him most, just now, however, is that having dyed his fur green so that he wouldn't be recognised when he visited me in hiding, he's discovered that dye is permanent and it will be several years before colour grows out.  On plane, apparently, (he travelled economy class), a child freaked out when she noticed him, convinced that seeing a green guinea pig was a bad omen, and despite his efforts to calm her down with descriptions of children's section of his recipe book, she sobbed all the way to Heathrow.

Have been given deadline of June 30, 2016 to complete letters, therefore won't be writing this blog for some time.

Thank you for your friendship over last four and a half years.  Feel privileged to have entertained you with stories of my life and may return to blogging if I don't become too famous.  (Henri insisted I write this, tells me I'm too self-effacing.)

Many, many purrs

Bakhtin

Still in hiding

Dear friends

Still in hiding and not supposed to be writing to you. After Scottish referendum vote in favour of staying in UK, money offered to Fritzonian Institute withdrawn. As result, advised by police not safe to return to Edinburgh. (see Home Soon: Sept 11, 2014 for more info)  Disappointed as miss life there.  Also fed up having to miaow in different tone and dye fur orange to conceal true identity.  Convinced am allergic to dye. However have to admit lifestyle here is healthy.  Lots of scampering on beaches and hillsides.  Getting very fit.  But miss writing.  Can't seem to get into right mood to continue with Granny Mischa's memoirs. Something to do with loss of identity due to orange fur, me thinks.

Had wonderful surprise last week, however, when visited by friends.  One evening Henri turned up with samples of three experimental recipes for his next book:  The best of guineapigging out. Entering into spirit of things as only he can, he'd dyed his fur and was most disgruntled when I pointed out that bright green made him more conspicuous than even he'd want to be.





When he'd recovered, he produced food from his rucksack at which point he became suspicious when heard scuffling noise at bottom of rucksack.  'Who's in there?  Come out immediately,' Henri shouted.  After a moment or two, Neville appeared, his face covered with crumbs of food.  Henry was furious but I found myself blinking back tears, so happy was I to see my flatmate - even if he'd eaten large chunk of food Henri had brought.


Decided to eat beach despite food not really being suitable for such an occasion.  Henri had brought: spinach and ricotta canneloni, to which he'd added hula hoops; peppers stuffed with maraschino cherries and roast potatoes; rice with prawns and weetabix. When told him the mix of ingredients was, at best, bizarre, he replied that his unique selling point was unusual combination of foods.

Stated that when the world had discovered his creativity in the kitchen, Jamie Oliver wouldn't get a look in.  Was even arrogant enough to tell us that he planned to become an advisor to schools on interesting meals that would encourage pupils to stop buying fish and chips or burgers at lunchtime.

Eager to gain mouse points after eating so much of the food, Neville agreed that Henri would be ideal person to work with government to improve standards of school catering. Always suspected Neville had sycophantic streak in him.

.

After Henri had returned to reality, repacked containers of food and made our way to beach. Every time I muttered something about needing sausages and rolls for a meal by the sea, Neville told me I should learn to think more expansively. Henri so delighted by his support, he offered to let the mouse be his senior advisor on new recipes. To my irritation, Neville looked smug all evening.

Purrs

Bakhtin

Home soon

Dear Friends

Has been such long time since last wrote to you. For once, not my fault.  If you remember, was involved in court case over alleged libel against principal tutor of creative writing course at renowned Fritzonian Institute in Edinburgh.  After delay due to tutor objecting to balance of animal and human jury, case finally resumed.




My barrister, Mr Justice Chatterton, restated opening he used at first hearing.....

'Our case is straightforward, so straightforward, in fact, that it should never have been brought to court.  My client, Bakhtin, a gifted writer, if ever there was one, such genius being displayed in his regular letters, never, in any of these letter, identified the lecturer by name.  Moreover, I have read each of those quite brilliant letters and the language used is mild and should not have caused offence or distress.  Lastly, and I quote the definition of defamation:  publication must be a statement which claims to be fact.  My client was merely expressing an opinion, something to which we are all entitled.' 

After hearing several witnesses for the defence (i.e. me) and only one for the prosecution - a donkey, which tutor obviously thought, being an animal, would support her case, but turned out to be useless, and found to be in contempt of court by crapping in witness box,  jury concluded I hadn't committed libel, and I was acquitted.












Damages granted to me amounted to high sum, so high that Fritzonian Institute, whose job it was to pay them, in danger of becoming bankrupt.  Consequently,  received lots of hate mail and general harassment.  Malicious dogs barking outside flat door, attempts to poison Neville ( precocious white mouse, for new readers), and virus put in Saussure and Notsaussure's computers.  Also threats to write terrible reviews about Henri's recipe book Guineapigging out.

Complained to police who assured us things would die down.  However, when they didn't, police agreed to put me under witness protection scheme.  Had fur dyed orange and given blue contact lens.  (didn't know cats could wear these but apparently vets now prescribing them for damaged corneas).















Worst bit, though, was having to move up to north of Scotland.  For eight months, assumed new identity, living with lady who has old cottage.  She already had adopted sixteen stray cats, so at least had company, and fresh fish every day.

Good news finally:  Fritzonian Institute promised large sum of money from anonymous source.  Suspect this was bribe to them for voting for independence for Scotland. Shouldn't have written this in case I am accused of libel.  But, hey ho....

Because of this, police consider I'm no longer at risk and can return to my life in Edinburgh.  Yippee!!!!

Purrs
Bakhtin