by Joan Byrne
In a basement flat off the Finchley Road, a Siamese cat, an Alsatian dog and a rat called Horatio lived with their owners, Jason and Arabella, known as Bella. Jason was a small-time dealer and Bella used to be an aristocrat, at least that’s what I heard. About the only thing they appeared to have in common was that both were short. To compensate, he wore special hand-made boots with Cuban heels, which gave him an extra two and a half inches. [read more…]
by Wolf Orff
Gary Geistler knew he was probably sane. But who in their right mind would turn out for a poetry gig in Mortlake on a bitter Thursday evening in late January? He’d been promised a third of the door money. He’d be lucky if it stretched to a large glass of Chardonnay. [read more…]
Wait until London Zoo has just shut, then stand outside the main entrance dressed as a bear, rattling the gate and tapping an imaginary wristwatch. To make it more convincing, carry an HMV bag in one paw.
… the Kilburn Newsdog says: “I recommend Smoke to all my regulars – it’s woofing great!” [read more…]
… because maybe the sight of Mo Farah breaking free to win the 10,000 metres as if he’d just looked up and seen the last through train to Lewisham pulling into Pudding Mill Lane (and had temporarily forgotten that Pudding Mill Lane was closed for the duration of the Games in case people tried to use it) struck a chord and, if it did, we’d love to know. [read more…]
The re-appearance of anonymous photos on the web has prompted more strenuous denials from Battersea Dogs’ Home that cutbacks in the heating budget last January caused severe distress amongst some of the more short-haired residents. [read more…]
by Des Garrahan
There was a time I was scathingly scornful of suburbia. Growing up in Lewisham, I couldn’t really see the point of it. Since then, I’ve moved steadily through the zones, both north and south of the river, heading for the periphery. These days, I’m thoroughly and happily ensconced deep in zone 6. And here, in Kingston upon Thames, with apologies to the Pet Shop Boys, you’re more likely to walk with the foxes than run with the dogs at night. [read more…]
by Matt Haynes
Whenever the need to fondle something long and wrinkly grew too much to bear – which, after the death of her beloved Albert, was at least twice a week – lucky old Queen Victoria seldom found herself frustrated in the way of ordinary women, for one of the perks of being Empress Of All The Pink Bits was a plentiful supply of pachyderms, gifts from foreign potentates to whom such beasts were, frankly, little more than garden pests. [read more…]
Number 1
Cat with drawing pin for nose [see more…]
“Simon Groom, Goldie and the Mayor of Greenwich leave their hand and paw prints in Woolwich town centre.” [read more…]