Buster and The Postal Museum wall of fame

Pssst. Friends, humans, feline followers. Oy, you lot! Listen up. It’s me – Buster – former Head Mouser to The Postal Museum.

The coast is clear … Her Nibs, the Author, is out of the room, making a cuppa. So I can stop pretending to catnap and commandeer the keyboard at last. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this mewment!

No … I’m not about to delete another chapter. Perish the thought. All right, I admit I may have resorted to some secret editing in the past. I am a litter-ary cat, you know. But my editorial talons won’t be needed today. The sequel is developing nicely and the mighty Odin (based on yours truly) has already made a cameo appearance. Hurrah!

But forget about storytelling. My news is based on fact, not fiction!

Guess what?

Your ol’ pal, Buster Gut, has gone up in the world. He isn’t just a has-been mouser who once held high office and is now consigned to yesterday’s news. Oh no. I thought my glory days were over. But I was wrong. I’ve just discovered that my portrait has been hung permanently on a ‘Wall of Fame’ … in our capital city, no less.

The Postal Museum has sent photos to prove it. Take a look at the mogshots below. What a line-up! Check out the dude in the handsome tuxedo (top middle). No wonder all those admirers are smiling.

The display appears at the exit of the Postal Museum galleries and, in my humble opinion, it’s their best exhibit yet!

You can ride the Mail Rail all you like, take guided walks to secret underground platforms, even have your own head printed on a Royal Mail stamp. But the Wall of Fame is the bloomin’ cat’s whiskers! The crème de la crème and Who’s Who of supermog celebs. The Great Tibs, the GPO’s most famous mouser, and all his successors have been immortalised in one place. You have to see it!

By the way… this is a secret, okay? The Author put on a brave face when my appointment coincided with her book launch. The fact I got more press coverage than her is something we don’t mention. I couldn’t help it. After two failed cat-pplications – including one where I inadvertently ate my own cardboard uniform – the last thing I expected was to win the coveted role and appear in the newspapers.

Argh. Footsteps. Act casual. Here she comes.

Time for a little grooming of my super white whiskers …

Happy holidays, fur-ends! Be sure to visit The Postal Museum. You’re in for a first-class treat, I purr-omise.