Table Manners

My international spy network informs me that big black cats have been seen in the unpronounceable hills of Pembrokeshire. Sheep have been eaten. "Was it you, Halibut?" a self-righteous broccoli-eater asked me on my Facebook page. (See his self-promoting video here: Catbrat eats cruciferous veg. Unfortunately, I cannot unfriend him, since he has a rare letter from Hodge to Johnson and has half-promised that I might publish it.)

No it was not me. After my glorious summer travels along seabird-gravied seacoasts, I have been fasting in the fastnesses of the prairies. Nor do I believe in a race of super-Halibuts in Wales.

Still, I rotate my ears in the direction of "Mark Fraser, founder of the research group British Big Cats Society." Someone told Mr Fraser about a dead sheep or two. Mr Fraser, upon hearing about the dead sheep, said: "Without examining the carcass itself, it's impossible to be 100 per cent certain that a big cat is responsible for these killings."

"However," continued Fraser, "The way the predator has peeled back the skin of the sheep to eat the flesh is very much a cat trait - only cats do that."

Oh yes, Mr Fraser. We felines all carry around potato-peelers on our belts. At the slightest provocation, we whip them out to peel our prey -- like a spud! like a banana! -- before feasting on the gelid goodness beneath.

Sheep Farmers of Wales! Beware of Halibuts! Be on the watch for their characteristic spoor!