No not the cat, he's called Mister Cat though he's far too pretty to be of the male type gender
Bassett is the wheelchair. why Bassett? go on you can work it out...
No?? what, you want a clue? ok think about the colours...............pink black pink.............
No?? i can tell you don't do cryptic crosswords........another clue?
ok...... think........sweeties!! ahhhh i can see those synapses firing
TA DA......DRUM ROLL YOU'VE GOT IT Bassett's liquice allsorts !!!
Why have i called my wheelchair after a chewy, sugary confection loaded with more reminiscences than calories i hear you ask?
Because i totally resent having to use it. i resented it even more when i had to concede defeat on this walking business in my fifties.
After some time wandering that hardest of battlefields, the human psyche, it seemed easier to view the whole thing as a big joke intended to entertain and raise a smile on a dismal day.
After all why should disability aids be grey and grim, reeking of hospitals and pain to be born with head bowed in thin lipped silent suffering? if i was to be prematurely grounded then i would do it in style, with head held high, a smile on the lips, and hold eye contact with anybody who DARED look pityingly in my direction.
You know what? it worked!! i couldn't begin to count the conversations held over the top of a shedding boa, feathers flying in all directions. strangers cheer me on, other wheelie users shyly say they wish they had the courage to do the same, sales assistants lean over their cash registers and smile forgetting their sore feet for just a moment, children laugh with delight and chase those wayward, wilful feathers. so, yes, i'd call it a success in elevating the human condition away from grey into the realm of colour and hopefully show, for a moment, that disability can be fun.
What next?? well.......i'm saving up for hub caps...........with pink daisies and butterflies to cover the chips taken out of the tyre rims. fun eh?
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