At last the big day for National Hunt Racing has arrived with The Grand National taking place this afternoon at Aintree where they are expecting 75,000 people to attend and an estimated TV audience of 9,000,000. That is an awful lot of members of the servant species. More of that later as there are more important things to press on with.
As you may be aware Man Servant celebrated his birthday earlier this week. If I was his age I do not think I would be celebrating much. The servant species make a big fuss over birthdays because they have records of this information that they keep with them for all of their lives. I expect my birthday is recorded somewhere but because feline society is not supported by a feline bureaucracy there is no record of my birth date that I can retrieve and keep with me forever. This does have the advantage of not knowing how old I am and it also helps with the time in life when vagueness about this issue is both discrete and polite.
Man Servant and I were able to enjoy some quality time earlier in the week. He was enjoying his coffee and I was enjoying some kibble while we listened to Radio 4 which I believe used to be called The Home Service in the days of the wireless. The play had finished and there was a charity appeal. This was an appeal for funds for a particularly sad situation. It was to raise money for children living on the streets of Guatemala City who have no parents and have to fend entirely for themselves. Because they have no parents or family they do not have birth certificates. Through some inverse bureaucratic logic they are not recognised as citizens of their own country and are denied access to all the government services that are taken for granted in more civil societies such as education, welfare and health. The money raised will be used to obtain ‘birth certificates’ for these children so they at least have a passport to these basic services.
I am very lucky as despite not having an exact birth date, a birth certificate or a passport yet my Servants do make sure that I have access to excellent healthcare. I am not too concerned about education even though I know it is very important for members of the servant species to get as much as they can.
I know Lady Servant is very well educated and has the certificates to prove it. Despite this I have not seen any certificates to say she is qualified to handle electrical equipment with wheels. As her employer I do have a duty of care towards her. Remember the episode with the lawnmower on Good Friday?
Yesterday afternoon when Lady Servant had finished her ‘day job’ as she calls it she became virulently infected by the house cleaning bug. I could also use the adjective ‘violently’ as well as believe me no member of the servant species wants to witness Lady Servant ‘doing the house’. It makes a German Panzer division look like ballet dancers. Once all the cleaning activities not involving electricity were completed the vacuum cleaner was taken out of its space from under the stairs. The plug went into, the switch pressed and this monster revved up like a Spitfire. It was not raining outside so I took my leave of the household to check that the perimeter fencing of the estate was intact. I waited until the jet like whir of the vacuum cleaner stopped. I waited a bit longer in case there was the anguished cry of ‘Oh no, I’ve cut the cable’. It was safe to return indoors.
Just as I was entering through my private entrance Man Servant entered via the front door. Mid way between us was the Spitfire vacuum cleaner standing upright like a grenadier with its cable neatly wrapped around the handle. I saw Man Servant’s face and read his thoughts. Don’t go there, it will cause trouble but he just couldn’t resist.
‘So, is the cable in one piece?’ Man Servant asked.
This went down with Lady Servant quicker than the Titanic and he had to make his own drink before they both rushed off to the stables to see our own equines.
On that note we should return to the main business of the day; The Grand National. Forty equines line up at Aintree this afternoon hoping to win the first prize of £561,000 which in the world of Omarnomics is an awful lot of kibble.
My highly scientific method of choosing horses has led me to select ‘The Druids Nephew’ and ‘Gallant Oscar’. Both are quoted at 14/1and I am backing them both at one unit of kibble each way. I have placed my bets with Chav and fixed the odds. Lady Servant has chosen ‘Many Clouds’ quoted at 7/1. Even Senior Man Servant has been swept up in the anticipation and has chosen ‘First Lieutenant’ quoted at 33/1. I am not sure what method they used but I will explain mine. In advance of the race I will explain my ‘scientific method’. I open the race card published in the Horse and Hound, the magazine for discerning servants interested in equines, and look at the card eating some kibble. Invariably there are crumbs and where they land on the card will be my selection for the race. So simple.
It would be nice to win and it will be nice if every equine running today is able to go home to its own stable tonight safe and well.