Today, on the way home from an afternoon in Albania, I was struck by a sudden flash of inspiration.
I intend to retrain as a Pet Psychic.
How much training does a Pet Psychic need? I hear you mutter. Don't be catty. Some of us have gifts. Some of us have vocations.
One such Pet Psychic was interviewed on the radio. (Hence the sudden flash for which, you will note, I claimed not one jot of originality.) She tunes into an animal (tunes not turns, because that would be ridiculous) and translates the images the animal telepathically transmits to her. Last week, a camel called Sofia suggested that a birthday breakfast of champagne and strawberries would be in order. That's a camel after my own heart. Clearly, I have an affinity with camels. A good start, wouldn't you say?
Practice makes perfect. Once home, I began my psychic training with the goldfish. In five second intervals, I discovered he is still holding a grudge about the time he was dropped down the toilet. It was an accident! I telepathically transmitted back to him. I'm a girl! she telepathically transmitted back to me - in images, by the way, and we're talking piscine genitalia ...
The dog was more difficult. The dog has always been difficult. The dog has the attention span of a flea. Though, to give the dog his due, perhaps I had tuned into the telepathic brainwaves of an actual flea ...? I must learn to focus. There's a knack to it.
Knack is an interesting choice of words considered the dog's telepathic images. It was years ago! But if it will help you achieve closure then, okay, we'll focus on your - sorry, I was talking to the dog.
So, anyway, you can see I've taken to this new career like a duck to water - and I've only been doing it for ninety minutes. I'm designing business cards: Moptop's Psychic Menagerie ~Bestiality a Speciality.
Look, I've told you! You'll just have to find something else to lick! Sorry, that was the dog again.