Nicknames and tails - the things I get
called you would not believe. Bert the
Bouncer I quite enjoy as I have perfected the art of jumping vertically without
touching or landing a paw print on the Boss or Mrs. This usually occurs first thing in the morning
when I am extremely happy to see them (breakfast is on the way) and if I bounce
high enough I can see through the kitchen window. I live in fear of a rendition
of Dirty Bertie from No. 30 as I know that sometime within the next few hours I
will be taken to the white room for a shampoo and shower. Sometimes I am Pierre-Auguste Bertoir when my
tail paints willowy branches on creamy backgrounds (the Mrs mackintosh) and
swimmingly wet trails of waves on walls in wet weather. For the record I can also break an elegant
wine glass full of red liquid cleanly in two, crash tea cups full of the
healing drink to the floor in a minute and wipe tears from the faces of
miniatures in seconds and all with a swipe of my magnificent tail. I am very proud of my tail, its elegant
lines tapering to a fine point. In the
mornings while I am waiting to bounce, I suck it, a bit like the latest
miniature who sucks her fingers, lip and anything within easy reach. When the Mrs comes down in the morning and
feels my wet tail she calls me Baby Bertie, I ask you. Talking of fine points, I have heard tell of
the miniatures father once practicing his barbering skills on one of my
predecessors whose fine tapering tail ended in a blunt bob and finished his
detailed tail painting for quite some time, a sad 'tail' if ever I heard one.
