My son lost his cat.
He let it out for a piss and it disappeared.
He was devastated,………. loved the little fucker.
He got some posters made up and went around
the place sticking them up.
Got lots of phone calls, mostly from little old ladies
who thought they had seen the moggie in their back garden.
Anyway, 4 weeks and 2 days later, he’s riding home and spots
a cat that looks like his. Fukin miles from his flat.
It turns out to be his long lost moggie.
This is Glasgow, by the way. How a cat can survive 4 weeks and
2 days on its own in Glasgow with only a few scratches to show
for it is a miracle in itself, but wait, it gets better.
I called the wife and told her the good news
she said that she had spoke with Ajarn Att, the Abbot at the
local temple and asked him to ask the Buddha to sort it, which
of course, as you can see, he did.
She said to tell my son not to mention it, she was glad to help.
So there, all you heathens, think again, you better repent or else.
Oh well, even if you don’t repent, it’s still a good news story, for a change