Walter the Smoking Cat

Hardly got started here and Walter sends me a picture and a few words for inclusion.

Even though no one has asked, he thinks it's a question that's on everyone's mind: What to do about the fumings of the volcano that is up there, unseen, above our back garden.

I didn't even know it existed until a few days ago. Not even sure I wanted to know. But good enough reason now not to go out there.

Tongue-tied dogs, monster children, and now invisible clouds of flame and ash. No, indoors is the place to be, for the time being at least. But back to Walter (I know he'll be wondering what's taking me so long).

I don't know when this absurdity was photographed but it certainly wasn't yesterday. If he thinks we'll fall for this old ruse he's badly mistaken. What does he know? What did he know then? Was he a prophet, a choir boy cat or something? How did he know?

Well, it's not easy for me, this, but I'll let him have his way just this once. What if his advice might save us after all? Worth the risk.

So: Thank you Walter Whispering Grass, thank you Smoking Prophet of Doom Cat. For better or for worse, I give you the words of the one and only... WALTER!

"If we all just blow hard enough..."

Walter! That's it?! Well just don't come growling and moaning to me if it backfires on us all.