Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Snalbert Strikes Again

I went to my laptop this morning and found this:

Someone had been using my mail program, but instead of sending messages, he'd opened about 100 note documents. And he didn't know how to hide the evidence.

By now, I don't need proof to know the perpetrator. Snalbert. 

Snictoria and Wendy have no interest in communicating with the outside world. They know you can't email a mouse to come over for a slumber party on the carpet, or a bird to fly down the chimney to entertain them. "So why bother?" they say. And Possum's large, distinguished nose is usually in some edifying book.

But Snalbert is more enterprising and he has more-or-less figured out how to type and open programs on my laptop. I have also just discovered that, in the past week, he was secretly corresponding with a French lady-cat who lives with someone who follows this blog. They struck up an acquaintanceship (and I must say that Snalbert has very good taste; the lady-cat attached a photo). He proposed marriage; she agreed to elope with him. They were making plans to honeymoon behind the cheese shop at the Haymarket and figuring out where to live (both have annoying roommates) when I found their emails. 

The thing is: Snalbert is a coward, not a gallant cat-about-town. If he sneaks out the front door, he panics and starts howling to come back inside within seconds. He'd never be able to get across town to his ladyfriend without being packed into a carrier and transported there — howling all the way — by his people. And he knows it, which makes him a complete cad, to use the old-fashioned term.

I gave him a stern warning not to break any more hearts, and told him to buy a laptop of his own, rather than sneaking onto mine for his nefarious purposes.


  1. Uh-oh. I need to emergently lock up the laptop and the "lady-cat". MISS CHALIFOUX!!!!

    I am so sorry, APB. It appears that she has been contributing to the delinquency of a Major (Cheese Patrol).

  2. Bertie, Bertie, Bertie! Where, I ask, was Jeeves while you were tricked into proposing.

    Us Doggers know how to avoid long-term relationships. I've made it to fifteen with only my slaves around.

    Maggie Mae.

  3. aek, we must apologize for Snab's disgraceful behavior. Thank goodness I caught him before Miss Chalifoux's reputation was in tatters. I might have relented if I thought he had been the least bit sincere, but he was only mercenary; it was all about the cheese. I had foolishly told him you had a taste for quality fromage. Poor, poor Miss Chalifoux! She deserves better whereas he deserves court-martialing.

  4. We have had a day of reckoning, and Mlle. Chalifoux is apologetic. I found the pictures she sent poor Snalbert, and they include the indecent exposure of our resident senior Madame Portia lolling about after a catnip interlude! Mlle is hardly innocent in these proceedings!

    Everyone here has been struck off the cheese apportioning until full apologies and regrets have been affected.

    I am embarrassed to admit that she apparently also sent one to him of my adoration of a fantastic standing desk in a display at the Brattle St. Anthropologie in Cambridge. I have to admit that when I discovered that the buyer for this object of drool-worthy envy scours the world for such things, I wanted to climb into a portmanteaux and travel aboard a tramp steamer, tramps being a dime a dozen in this house.

  5. Oh, don't be too hard on the poor thing. She's just an easily-duped romantic. Snalbert can be as persuasive as Winston Churchill, to whom he bears an unfortunate resemblance.

    I know just how you feel about those Anthropologie buyers. If I lived in Philadelphia I think I would have found a way to push them into the Schuylkill by now so I could apply as a replacement.

  6. Snalbert is giving online computer courses. Link at my name to YouTube of one of his better pupils.


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