Archibald here.

My arthritis is getting to me today. Can’t even outrun the stupid chicken. A lazy day peramburolling through the newpapers. I’m sick and tired of all this woofing and warping about the cartoons. What I want to know more about is the Berlepsch's six-wired bird of paradise. That’s news.

Now I’ve spotted a five-wire here in the rear gardens of our humble estate. But a sixer. That’s something. You didn’t know I was a birder, eh? I’ve been into orthography since I was a wee little weiner. But I can’t really crow about it (sorry) because my image will suffer. I’m still available for security duties. Did you see my adversity in the Courier last week? I thought it was pretty attractive: “Experienced guard for better homes” I don’t want any of those pit bull in the back yard sort of places, doncha know.

But I’m plenty employed here in our home place, even if the housekeeper has to carry me up and down the steps occasionally.