Joe Murray: Stories

6. a lesson in socialism

“Oi! Izzat you at it again, ya wee bam, ye? Bugger off!”
Bibs looked up and pointed to the dish, “whit… whit? Ah’m eatin here, Big Man, some decorum, if you please.”
“Aye,” said I, “yer eatin my cat’s dinner… again!”
She looked up at me again, I swear she was smirking, “Your cat, oor cat, awbuddy’s cat…" she gave a little shrug, "so what?”
I looked at her, “so wha… you’ve got your own house, my cat has only this one. It isn’t fair on her.”
“Fair?” she stared back, “Fair? Hunger makes thieves of us all, Big Man, but you would know that, being a socialist, eh?” She snaffled the last morsel from the dish. “Ye are a socialist, aren’t ye?”
Aye, but…”
She turned and headed for the back door: “practice what ye preach then… practice what ye preach.”
I stood there, looking at the north end of a south bound Bibs.
I shouted after her, “how did you get in here anyway? I had shut the door.”
A distant voice called back, “remember that Ninja thing I mentioned before?”
“Ah’m really beginning tae hate cats,” I thought.


Articles/ Thoughts Poems COPYRIGHT © 2021 Dr Joe Murray		Bibs the Cat we’re all family, really a little feline philosophy excuse my french on the cludgie the baby a lesson in socialism sleeping with the enemy on the level a little black and white philosophy the magpie ultimatum Indy Cat? Who’s the Daddy? It's no about flags Video Stories Alasdair Gray & the Book of Prefaces Keekin Through Windaes The Two Heifers The Congo The Hotdog Other Stories Aye, right ennuf a natural balance a short tale of woe Maggie and the Little Pollok Carpet
	6. a lesson in socialism “Oi! Izzat you at it again, ya wee bam, ye? Bugger off!” Bibs looked up and pointed to the dish, “whit… whit? Ah’m eatin here, Big Man, some decorum, if you please.” “Aye,” said I, “yer eatin my cat’s dinner… again!” She looked up at me again, I swear she was smirking, “Your cat, oor cat, awbuddy’s cat…" she gave a little shrug, "so what?” I looked at her, “so wha… you’ve got your own house, my cat has only this one. It isn’t fair on her.” “Fair?” she stared back, “Fair? Hunger makes thieves of us all, Big Man, but you would know that, being a socialist, eh?” She snaffled the last morsel from the dish. “Ye are a socialist, aren’t ye?” Aye, but…” She turned and headed for the back door: “practice what ye preach then… practice what ye preach.” I stood there, looking at the north end of a south bound Bibs. I shouted after her, “how did you get in here anyway? I had shut the door.” A distant voice called back, “remember that Ninja thing I mentioned before?” “Ah’m really beginning tae hate cats,” I thought.