Tar-struck Monty

Letter to the Editor in the Christchurch Press on Saturday:

Monty has six black tarry stones stuck to his tummy fur.

He picks his way over the shingle-strewn driveway of his home in Birdwood Avenue, Beckenham. His owner is out there with a yard broom. The acrid fumes of hot tar are choking in the 24-degree heat.

A huge truck dumps another load of coarse, sharp shingle. The noise is horrendous. Flying gritty black dust blasts shrubs, lawns, driveways, house windows and walls. Monty bolts.

Inside his neighbour's place he settles between the black tar blobs on the carpet. With his sharp teeth he tugs at a black tarry stone embedded in his tummy fur. Slowly, painfully, he hauls it off with a plume of soft grey fur attached.

Monty has five black tarry stones stuck to his tummy fur.

N. Elphinston. Beckenham

What is he saying? Is he complaining about the road works? Or that his neighbour's pet keeps coming into this house? I Monty a cat? dog? mouse? Who knows, but I'm certainly looking forward to the next installment from N. Elphinston.