Wimbledon and the Electric Tennis Tournament

Now we're into the summer, I don't watch much tv. Both Millhouse and I are out most evenings either slouching around the estate or chasing some flitting moth. Buzzy things are more of a problem. In my wisdom I leave well alone, but Millhouse? Well he's up for anything even if it stings! House-flies sometimes keep him amused for ten minutes; the entertainment usually ending when something valuable gets knocked off a shelf.
I mention flies and tv because this week its Wimbledon Tennis. No, I'm not particularly a tennis aficionado, although I have a pretty fearsome forehand smash, but because Mrs has been swooshing an electric tennis racket about the house! Oh yes, she has a gadget shaped exactly like a tennis raquet, but it has two layers of wire mesh between which passes a high electric current. Well, blacken my pupils and flatten my ears if you will, but this activity certainly rattles the clapper of my pussy alarm!
You've probably worked out that it's a fly swat of the natty gizmo variety. Now what I can't fathom is what advantage it may offer over a normal fly-swat. Surely if you've swatted the damned thing then it's swatted. Dead! Buzz-less! Inert! Why should a couple of hundred volts through its ugly abdomen be required as well?
Well, that's humans for you. Nevertheless, I leave the room before the electric tennis match begins. Last I heard she was into the quarter finals.
During the evenings, my current preference is to share my plant pot sleeping spot by the front door with a Passion Flower. I sort of curl myself around his stem and we have been getting along fine together. As the summer progresses however I've noticed he's getting more passionate about how much space he needs. Passionate to the extent that I think he's plotting to murder me! For, while I doze, he imperceptibly wraps his loving tendrils around my ears and tail. When I wake, I have quite a struggle to wriggle my way out. I'm beginning to suspect that perhaps he's one of those carniverous pussus cat-flap-trap plants.
Hmm, the world is full of unknown dangers. Perhaps I'll lean on him a bit more heavily tonight and snap his stem! That'll stop him being too friendly.



Herky