Stick a brush up my arse.....

The week before last was hell. Actually, it wasn't that good. As we crunched from one job / problem to the next I made a bit of an off hand comment to my colleague that the only things we hadn't done was to rescue a kitten from a tree and help a pregnant woman give birth [this was having just put out a small fire in a street litter bin, not the sort of thing you would call the brigade out for]. Today we were out together again and it's was a stinker from the outset. Talk about hitting the street running. 3 O'clock finds us heading towards Holborn when a young lady, heading towards us having come out of one of the local colleges, shouts to us "Oi, mate, there's this baby cat running around in the road back there". Rounding the corner, low and behold, is a kitten cowering against a wall.

Having spent more than long enough on the phone to the RSPCA [press 1 to report a suspected case of bird flu......] and then waiting an hour for then to turn out, we handed the beast over and continued our trek. The first thing we see, on rounding the corner into Guilford St, is a heavily pregnant woman, sweating like a race horse, stumping towards us.

We must have looked like something from a Max Senate film. A double take and an about face that would not have looked out of place in the Grenadier Guards and we were off, back towards King's Cross!