tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538244067779087752.post7190964594353377373..comments2023-11-05T06:01:07.639-06:00Comments on BURNING TOAST: Gulliver's TravelsBurnt Toasthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13028411229445466936noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7538244067779087752.post-69666269094463334672013-12-31T17:27:42.193-06:002013-12-31T17:27:42.193-06:00"a regular habit of meeting me at the top of ..."a regular habit of meeting me at the top of the hill near the gate where he would happily climb in the truck for the two hundred yard trip down to the house." <br /><br />When I was a baby, we apparently had a cat called Mr Ruggles (although it was a she), who used to meet my dad at a fence post at 3 in the morning when he got home and sit on his head for 200 yards to the caravan in a farmers field. It's a long story, but there was a post war housing shortage .... When she died my dad was apparently upset for weeks, and we moved to a house shortly after that.<br /><br />Nice post, mate.No PC Viewsnoreply@blogger.com