Yes indeed, fans, I thank God that I am not like others of my species – small-minded, quarrelsome rodents with lively tempers and sharp tongues. By contrast, I am a Rat of distinction, meaning that I am able to restrain my indignation at all times – except of course when called upon to defend the common good. And I can’t tell you what a blessing it is to have the gift of self-control in the face of provocation, some of which can come quite literally out of nowhere, when my guard is down and it’s the last thing in the world that I’m expecting!

Take Monday afternoon, for instance. I was in the kitchen, minding my own business and relaxing with a nice cup of coffee, when all of a sudden there was a loud commotion on the lawn outside my house. With that, I rushed to the window, and what should I see but my neighbour Mr. Lewis doing battle with the largest cardboard package I have ever laid eyes on in my life! There he was, grunting and growling, and letting out not a few very audible expletives, as he struggled to force the oversized package through the doorway of his home – but to no avail. I mean, REALLY! Why couldn’t he simply remove the packaging first? But no, clearly he was not about to be beaten by a bundle of surplus cardboard! And so the aggression continued…

Naturally enough, all this kerfuffle soon shattered my peace and set my nerves on edge. But I was even more alarmed when the man burst into the shed which contains my own home, Grumblemore. Uncertain of his intentions, from behind the kitchen curtain I looked on with suspicion as he rummaged around for some tools to aid him in his endeavours, all the while fuming with frustration. Then to my relief he found what he wanted at last, and went back to the task in hand. But imagine my astonishment when, after some strenuous and painstaking effort, this same neighbour removed the front door from its hinges so as to jiggle his container through the doorway!

Honestly now, which is easier – to remove some packaging, or to remove a door? (And humans call us rats ‘dumb animals’!!)

In any event the thing was finally inside his property, and so that was the end of that, or so I naively thought. But to my dismay, early on Tuesday morning I woke up to a nasty surprise. It seemed that Mr. Lewis had been obliged to discard the cardboard casing after all, and overnight had dumped the whole lot in the shed, thus effectively blocking my way out of Grumblemore.

Well, I can tell you, I was furious! But instead of staying mad, it wasn’t long before I decided that the best (and by far the most enjoyable) response to this was going to be REVENGE.

Revenge. Yes, fans, it sounds like such a simple, efficient solution, doesn’t it? And that was definitely how I planned it when I spent the day chewing that huge heap of cardboard into a thousand portable slivers! Following this, after nightfall I took much pleasure in carrying them all up to Mr. Lewis’s letter box (which I accessed via a convenient workbench that was left outside), and then posting the pieces one by one onto his doormat. At the end of this procedure, as I peered through the narrow portal to admire my handiwork, my eyes alighted on a ginormous tower of litter which totally barred the way out of his house. What a coup! I could hardly wait to see his reaction the next day!

Then as expected, when Wednesday dawned I was pleased to observe the predicted annoyance of Mr Lewis, who emerged with much difficulty from his property, uttering various unrepeatable sayings and shaking bits of cardboard from his clothes and shoes. This gave me so much satisfaction that before long I found myself actually singing for joy, after which, humming a popular little tune, I set off to the local store to buy a cake to celebrate my victory! But of course time goes by a lot faster when we’re happy, which meant that it was some hours later when I eventually returned home. And so it was that I was just coming into the garden, and still humming the same popular song, when an unfamiliar sight stopped me dead in my tracks.

What on earth was that…?

It was then that I discerned a pile of big blue shapeless objects, semi-transparent and glistening brightly in the afternoon sun. Oh, NO – recycling bags! The man had swept up all the cardboard and tipped it into plastic sacks that now entirely filled the shed, thus obstructing my way back into Grumblemore. In other words, he had boomeranged my own revenge back at myself!

Well, we’ve all heard the old adage, ‘Don’t get mad, get even’. But I think there’s a phrase missing from this piece of wisdom. In my opinion it should say, ‘Don’t get mad, get even. But if that doesn’t work, go berserk!’ That’s why when Mr. Lewis shut me out of my house, I did the only sensible thing I really could do in the circumstances:

I climbed all the way up to the attic above his bedroom – then I ranted and raved, and screamed and shouted at him all night long!

And THEN I felt much better.

Yes, fans, I know that bad things sometimes happen to good people. But I mean, REALLY – this is ridiculous! Think I’m exaggerating? Well, believe me, you wouldn’t think so if it happened to you. So go ahead – just read this, and see for yourselves!

It all kicked off in the early hours of this morning, when I was rudely awakened from my dreams by a particularly loud noise…
‘FIRE, FIRE! Wake up, Grumpkin, wake up!’ I heard a voice cry. Then a great pounding on the door sprung my eyes wide open and set my heart racing with fright. What on earth could be the matter?
‘Who’s there? What do you want?’ I demanded, leaping out of bed. And as I opened the front door, who should practically fall into my arms, but Bumble the miniature Badger, still in his nightclothes.
‘Oh, Grumpkin, I was so worried about you, thank God you’re all right!’ he exclaimed, pressing me tight in a bear hug. ‘Don’t worry, the Fire Brigade is coming, and they’ll be here any minute! Now come on, let’s get you outside to a place of safety.’
‘Outside? But why? There’s no fire here, Bumble,’ I protested.
‘Of course there is, Grumpkin, why else would the Fire Brigade be coming? Now hurry up, we’ve got to get out!’ And before I could say another word, the badger gripped me by the arm and marched me firmly out of the property.

It was only as we emerged onto the lawn that I looked back to see clouds of smoke engulfing the shed that contained the wooden chest which was Grumblemore, my home. Then next minute came sounds of a siren, followed almost immediately by the flashing lights and intermittent horn blasts of an approaching fire engine. At this, Bumble left me standing bewildered on the grass and rushed off to meet the fire fighters, as they jumped down from the vehicle and made haste to deploy their hoses.

‘Come quick, the fire’s over there!’ he called, waving his arms wildly in my direction. And sure enough, within seconds they all ran past me, shooting multiple jets of water into the old shed in an effort to save my home. But the harder they pelted the shed, the thicker grew the smoke, till very soon I and the badger were lost in a dense black fog of it, and coughing fit to choke. As to how long this went on, I don’t know, but after a time there was a lot of yelling and then the water stopped. Yet despite this, it was plain for all to see that the smoke was worse than ever, and now the night sky was tinged with a glowing orange light. The fire was clearly out of control!

I couldn’t believe it, what kind of madness was this? Why on earth had they chosen this of all moments to turn the water off? Then Bumble came up to me, panting hard as he struggled to breathe through the huge wad of handkerchiefs he was holding over his nose and mouth.
‘It’s great news, Grumpkin,’ he mumbled excitedly from behind the bunches of cotton, ‘I’ve just had the all clear from the Fire Department! You can go back inside now, if you want.’
‘What! Are you blind? There’s a fire raging over there, of course I’m not going back inside!’ I snapped. ‘Now tell those stupid fire fighters to finish the job and get the thing put out, or else I shall make a formal complaint to their superiors!’
‘Yes, well, that might be a bit problematic, I’m afraid,’ said the badger, lowering his mask to speak confidentially into my ear. Then after a furtive glance around him to confirm we were alone, he went on, ‘You see, there’s been a teeny-weeny little misunderstanding…’
‘A misunderstanding?’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ he answered, nervously shuffling his feet. ‘Look, I can’t explain here, Grumpkin, I really think we should go indoors.’

So, scowling with annoyance I grudgingly followed Bumble back to Grumblemore. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that met my eyes. There was water everywhere… in the living room, in the kitchen, and even upstairs, in my bed! I mean, it was literally like wading knee deep through a pond, with islands made of floating furniture! This was my worst nightmare! When, I wondered, was I ever going to get my house fit to live in again?

For a moment I just stood there, speechless with horror. Then I said, ‘There’s not much misunderstanding about this mess, Bumble. Now what was it that you wanted to tell me?’
‘Well, um, I just wanted to say, Grumpkin, you’re a very good friend, and so naturally your safety has always been of great concern to me.’
‘Yes, yes, get to the point!’ I said curtly.
‘All right, I will, but please don’t get too excited about this. Just remember that bad things can happen to everyone once in a while.’
‘Get on with it, Bumble!’
‘Right, then.’ He took a deep breath and composed himself. ‘Well, the truth is, Grumblemore was never really on fire,’ he announced finally, wincing in anticipation of my response.

I was gobsmacked. ‘Not on fire? What do you mean, it wasn’t on fire? Of course it was, you and I both saw thick smoke belching out of the garden shed!’
‘Yes, well, that was the misunderstanding, you see. The smoke wasn’t actually coming from your house. It was coming from next door’s bonfire that hadn’t been properly put out.’
I let out a gasp of disbelief. ‘Then what on earth were the Fire Brigade doing hosing down my property?’
‘Um, well, that was my fault, I’m afraid,’ the badger said, his voice strained with embarrassment. ‘See, when the wind blew the smoke over the hedge, it dropped down and covered the shed, making me think it was Grumblemore that was on fire – and so I called 999. But actually the bonfire was several yards behind it, meaning there was no real danger to your home at all.’

I was stunned. ‘No danger to my home?’ I repeated, dazed.

‘It’s a terrible shock, I know, and I’m really sorry for the mistake,’ said the badger, ‘but look on the bright side. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems. With a mop and bucket, and a good strong positive attitude, I bet we could have this place as right as rain in a couple of hours!’ And then, noting with dismay my face of thunder, ‘W-well, of course, not as right as RAIN, exactly…’

It’s true, fans, they’re totally nuts! What makes me say this? Well, I’ll have you know that the children – a boy and a girl who are twins aged about ten – have been left entirely alone all day to carry out whatever mischief they like. And although they arrived only yesterday, from the second they moved into that house they have targeted me mercilessly with their pranks!

And here’s the proof:

Today I came home from the local store to find my front door blocked by a most unusual object. After gazing at it open-mouthed for a moment or two, I finally took it to be a state of the art, and perfectly rat-sized racing car! It was a lovely green colour, with a seating area just big enough for one, and four long arms extending outwards to make a giant cross. At the end of these arms, smart blue-green propellers were positioned over what I assumed to be the four wheels – placed there, so I thought, to lend even greater speed to this incredible racing machine. What a beauty! I had never seen anything like it in my life, and of course I immediately wanted a closer look. So leaving my shopping bags by the door, I walked slowly round it a couple of times, admiring its symmetry and sleek lines. Then after a while I decided to climb aboard and check out the controls.

But upon mounting this strange vehicle, I was amazed to discover that it possessed no dials or knobs, no dashboard of any kind, and not even a steering wheel to guide it with. How then, I wondered, could anyone drive such a car?

I was just leaning forwards to see if perhaps there were some controls at the front of it, when a sudden whirring sound caught my attention. At the same time, rather to my surprise the propellers started spinning all by themselves, in so doing creating quite a breeze. Fearing that this signalled the approach of the car’s rightful owner, I correctly concluded that I should get off the vehicle immediately. Unfortunately, however, at that very instant an unexpected development prevented this sensible action…

The car became airborne.

Before I knew what was happening I found myself clinging on for dear life, with my hands hooked around the two front arms of the machine, and the rest of me draped over the bodywork like a great big furry flag flapping in the wind. Well, let me tell you, that was some ride! As we surged abruptly heavenwards, I left my stomach lagging behind me by at least fifty feet. My wide eyes bulged with fright as they beheld the landscape dropping away beneath me till the neighbours’ house shrank right down to the size of a postage stamp!

But that wasn’t all… Then the flying machine embarked on some fancy aerial manoeuvres, wheeling around in circles and figures of eight, and alternately plunging and soaring, till I began to feel thoroughly sick. And just when I thought I couldn’t hang on any longer, that was when the thing started its pièce de résistance – a spinning nosedive that set me on an unerring collision course with Planet Earth!

Screaming with terror, I found myself bombing towards the ground at breakneck speed, whirling round and round so fast that before long the inevitable happened, and I and the machine parted company. Then, still screaming, I completed my maiden flight by arriving with a huge whooshing SPLASH in an ornamental fishpond!

However, as I rose to the surface to gasp for air, I thought I heard something familiar – a bubbly kind of giggling sound that is most typical of juvenile humans. And sure enough, next minute a bright green flying machine bopped me on the head from behind, and down I went for the second time…

Since then I’ve been down another six times, and still that wretched machine keeps coming back for more pot shots at my head! Well, I mean REALLY, are you all asleep out there… ?

How much longer are you fans going to leave me floundering about in this pond before you call the coastguard!!