As you know, dear fans, I am of course a multi-award-winning angler, so imagine my delight when an American friend of mine invited me to go on a fishing trip to Brighton Pier. I mean, here was my first ever chance to get a taste of sea fishing, as different from lake and river fishing as coffee is from tea! So I naturally grabbed the opportunity with both hands, and in a flash I had my backpack stuffed full of tasty goodies ready for the day’s adventure.

Well, at last the train pulled into the station, and it seemed like no time at all before the two of us were strolling down Brighton Pier with our bags swinging from our shoulders, whistling a jaunty little sailors’ song and sporting two brand new state-of-the-art fishing rods. My friend Mr Trumpkin (a white rat with a name uncannily similar to mine) is big in the business world, but has also recently become a politician. And as we cast our lines and set down our rods, he had me spellbound by the wisdom of his words…

‘Let me tell you, being rich is very over-rated,’ he declared with authority. ‘I have made so much money, you wouldn’t believe it. I have lost that money and made it back again more times than you’ve had hot showers. And now I have my own private planes and yachts, hotels and businesses, and even my very own space rocket. But does all that make me happy? No, it does not.’
I was shocked. ‘Well, what does make you happy, then?’ I asked.
‘What makes me happy is being a great guy,’ he answered. ‘I’m so great, even when I fail I’m a winner. And you should be happy too, Grumpkin.’
‘I should?’
‘Well, sure you should. See, I’ve just caught a prize-winning sea bass,’ he said, reeling in his catch, ‘but clearly your fish is much, much smaller.’
I couldn’t believe it. As I reeled it in, I could see a really tiny sardine wriggling on the end of my line. ‘You think this should make me happy?’ I snorted in disgust, as I removed the hook from its mouth and threw it back into the water.
‘No, Grumpkin, the fish won’t make you happy. What will make you happy is learning to be happy to lose.’

What – happy to lose? The cheek of it! I mean, really, doesn’t he know who I am? He’s talking to the four-time winner of the Nat Rat Angling Trophy – that’s who! Well, it seems I’ve greatly overestimated Mr Trumpkin. After all, what is he, at the end of the day? He’s an empty-headed show-off, a smug, self-centred twit who talks a lot of absolute twaddle!

And mark my words, a bag of hot air like him will never go far in politics!