Taming Shrews

Maybe be with a little bit of cheese? I don't think people can't be tamed or changed. Visit my blog: http://whatisthisstrangeplace.blogspot.com/

Well, overlooking your 1legspideresque unnecessary use of ellipsis, (...) I think there are certain people, male and female, who have been through some bad experiences in life and find it intensely difficult to trust others, so they test everyone they meet by biting their heads off, hoping to find someone who soldiers on and makes an effort with them. If you can recognise that tendency in someone and you're prepared to weather the initial storm, then you've got a friend for life.

A proviso to my first post: But the likelihood is slim . . . Visit my blog: http://whatisthisstrangeplace.blogspot.com/

If you are one of those prepared to soldier on, and you succeed in acquiring a shrew as a friend for life – be sure to practice the following phrases: I’m sorry about my lifelong friend, she didn’t mean to be rude – it’s just her manner. Ooh dear, I’m sorry about that, she’s a lovely person really, she just gets a little defensive. I’m so sorry, it was so sweet of you to invite her - she wouldn’t knowingly upset anyone, it’s just... Is it all right if I bring? Oh, ok, then, sure, it’s a numbers thing, I understand.

My question would be: why bother? Besides, even if you succeed, what do you have? A tamed shrew. Big deal.

How dim can dim be? I thought this was a post about shrews; the furry kind; the squeak, squeak kind; the kind that my cat catches in abundance, which makes him sound like a proper cat even though he has done absolutely nothing about the family of mice who have moved in to over–winter in our cottage, and, no doubt, indulge in a bit of breeding - (squeak! squeak!): not that we’re mice–ist, you understand, it’s just that we don’t want them in our neighbourhood. Some cat! In fact Mrs P has caught four to date, in a humane hippy trap that only works if the mouse is heavy enough, which the last one doesn't seem to be, so now we’re fattening him up with extra cheese. (Red Leicester, in case your interested.- probably not.) She usually releases them into the woods, in the middle of the night, in her dressing gown. There’s a story there I’m sure. Anyway, why have I shared this? Boredom? Mouse bragging? Perhaps, but the front page story of my local paper: ‘Bury Free Press’ has run a story about the Suffolk Hunt exploiting a loophole in the ‘Hunting with Dogs Act’, and satisfying their blood lust by training an eagle owl to hunt for foxes. So perhaps training shrews to lay underground cables isn’t so dim after all.