It’s been a terribly exciting time on the kitten front. This week we agreed a UK publishing deal with the fine people at Hodder & Stoughton, which places us in very good company indeed, sharing shelf-space with such literary giants as Stephen King, the Dalai Lama, Louise Wener and yep, you guessed it, the mighty H&*h F#@^$#%y-Whittingst*ll. Serendipity all round.
What’s interesting is that people are now taking my fascination with animal cuteness a great deal more seriously than they ever did before: get a book deal, become an expert. Three examples:
1. I get a phone call, out of the blue. Someone has just read a piece about panda bears in the Daily Telegraph. Would I like them to scan a copy and put it in the mail?
2. I receive at e-mail, out of the blue. Someone’s cat is just about to give birth. Can I offer any advice to make the process a little easier for all concerned? Yours, Tammy, aged eight and three quarters.
3. Another phone call, out of the blue. Someone has just taken in an abandoned kitten. Before they call the animal protection league, would I be interested in offering the little fella a home? It’s the loveliest kitten ever, no really.
This is all very nice, of course, and I don’t mind one little bit. I’m just a little concerned that my reputation will become infused with such grotesque levels of fluffiness that I’ll find it impossible to find a home for my next project, in which I travel the World cooking outsize food for the crazed, despotic leaders of widely reviled regimes. Accompanied by a penguin.
Ah! World domination extends beyond baby cats and all things cute.
Way to go, Fraser!!!
That is a genuinely good idea. I, for one, would happily buy a book that contained images of Kim Jung Il tucking into a Scotch Ostrich Egg.
Hah-hah-haaa! You’ll be on tv with the caption “fluffyness expert” underneath your name.
In much the same way as boy bands only ever make it into the top sections of charts listing the 50 Best Singles Evar! by virtue of being recent rather than decent, epitaphs are usually the last thing said about someone rather than the most profound.
So, when President Gen. Saparmyrat A. Niyazov takes a dim view of your ginormous pork pie and orders his flunkies to shoot you down, there will be a dusty corner of Turkmenistan that will be forever England (or New Zealand) where the curious shall read: Here Lies Fraser Lewry, King of All Teh Fluff.
Funny you should mention that. I’ve booked a trip to Turkmenistan for November.
Argh, it’s all coming true! I am Nostrodamant! It begins! THE RAPTURE!
Just make a recipe for Kitten FricassÃ© or something, and the out-of-blue ppl will leave you alone.
There are two kinds of kat people:
Don’t get involved with number 2.
Ah, just tell them that you once ate (spicy) dog meat soup.
On second thoughts, cat people might not give a fig.
I’m bloody jealous of your trip to Turkmenistan, though. Have fun :)
I’d like to see some pics whe you return from Turkmenistan. By the way: could you offer Tammy (aged eight and three quarters) any advice to make the process a little easier for all concerned? And did you invite the loveliest kitten ever to be a honoured guest in your home?
I advised Tammy to let nature takes its course and most importantly, not to handle the kittens for a few days – a human’s scent on the newborn can lead to rejection by the mother. And no, I did not accept the lovliest kitten – no room at the inn.
Well, your phone number isn’t on the website, so you are obviously missing out on many potential calls. You should publish it and see what happens.
Fraser. Given that its nearly easter, and cadburys have let us all down, i want your next project to be to make a GIANT creme egg.
do you know i have a feed on my tribe profile u make me lmfao! :-)