Oscar
It’s a pleasure to be here, Miss… er…
W C A T
My name is Beauty, Sir Oscar.
Oscar
And well it fits you, Miss Beauty.
W C A T
Oh, Sir Oscar, really you shouldn’t say such things… anyway, our listeners would be greatly impressed, as was I, by your extreme courage and resourcefulness. I understand that you stood up to a marauding farmer who was holding a killing stick?
Oscar
Well, I had to. This evil Longlegs was threatening my pal, Ginger.
W C A T
How did this encounter happen?
Oscar
You see, we were practicing our hunting skills. At first, with pheasants, then, with bouncers.
W C A T
What exactly are bouncers, Sir Oscar?
Oscar
I believe that in the U.S. you call them bunnies.
W C A T
Oh, these. Yes, they are quite good hunting, but often they are bigger than us, at least in Texas, where our station is located.
Oscar
So they are, so they are, in Wales too. They are huge. The one Ginger tried to get, silly Superior that he is, was immense. So big, in fact, that the farmer could not help seeing the two of them as they fought. I ran to help Ginger, and pounced on the bouncer, pushing Ginger aside to save his life from the farmer. And then the farmer came to face me, holding his killing stick forward in a threatening way.
W C A T
Oh, Sir Oscar! What did you do?
Oscar
Naturally, I stood on my back paws to my full height, pushed Ginger behind me to protect him, and hissed violently at the marauding farmer. The farmer turned and ran away from me in terror. I thought he was gone forever, but just as I landed with my paws right back on the bouncer’s, er, bunny’s back, the cowardly farmer, who would not face me when close up, shot at us!
W C A T
How awful! What happened then?
Oscar
The bouncer lost his life, and was removed by the farmer’s dog. I was very badly wounded, but my first thoughts were, of course, with Ginger. Moving very slowly, losing half my blood, I searched for him and found him under a bush, trembling in terror. When I saw he was alive, I sent him home and crawled to my own home. I did not want to frighten my The Her, so I hid behind a chair, but she saw the puddle of blood.
W C A T
Your The Her must have been devastated.
Oscar
Oh, yes. She begged me to become a House Superior and never risk my life, but I explained to her that my duties are to the other Superiors and I could not let them down, even if it cost me my life. She sobbed, and since I am really kind to my Long Legs, I told her I will stay at home until I recover my full strength.
W C A T
You are the soul of kindness. Excuse me, my coworker, Mitzi, has something to say to me… yes, Mitzi? WHAT? It is not the exact story as we got it from his blog? WHAT? He never faced the farmer or lost half his blood? Nonsense, Mitzi. Surely you won’t doubt the word of such a distinguished Superior! Whoever told you that must be jealous of Sir Oscar... I am sorry, Sir Oscar. Just an unimportant interruption. Thank you so much for this fur raising story, and I hope you will soon have the opportunity to talk to us again.
Oscar
Certainly, Miss Beauty, if you will promise to do the interview…
W C A T
Oh, Sir Oscar. Really… you should not say such things…
Wise Cat
Dear Sir Oscar,
I am horrified by the way these radio stations and other forms of journalism can twist the words of a Superior during an interview. Needless to say, I would never suspect you of exagerating the level of the danger and heroism you usually display, so I really must blame the interviewer. This is disgraceful...
Your friend,
Wise Cat
Thank you Wise Cat for knowing me so well. I'm afraid there was a lot of journalistic licence taken at the time and the facts were horribly distorted. Just read my Blog Oscar and the Bouncer for the real story.
Oscar.
Baron Michael.
Methinks the grey furry one has come down with a large dose of ' Poetic Tall Tail Licence', and sweet old fashioned smarmyness again.