23/11/2025
Mr Pumpernickle’s Weekly Whisker Report
“They came from the acorn tree”
This week, the skies above Vetsone turned hostile.
The local myna birds launched a surprise attack—three winged bandits swooping down with precision and squawk. I, Mr Pumpernickle, was caught mid-patrol.
Did I run?............Yes.
But..........with dignity.
And........a tail held high.
The war has begun.
The birds may have wings, but I have strategy, stealth, and a clinic full of allies. This means war. From now on, the waiting room windows are my watchtowers, and the clinic corridors my training grounds. Stay tuned for updates from the front lines.
Of course, I still attended the full staff meeting—every general needs to keep morale high. I loafed on the chair, listening to plans about patients and biscuits, but secretly sketching out my bird-defense strategy. The humans didn’t notice, but I assure you, the war council has begun.
In other news, we’re recruiting! Yes, we’re on the lookout for a new veterinarian to join our ranks. Ideally someone fast, clever, and willing to run around for me. I need someone who can keep up with my tactical briefings, respond to biscuit emergencies, and assist in the new war effort against the dive-bombing birds. If you’re a vet with heart, humour, and heroic reflexes—I’m hiring.
And finally, Some of you may recall a certain incident a few weeks ago, when I—Mr Pumpernickle—vanished overnight. The nurses searched high and low, biscuits were rattled, tears were shed and someone muttered something about a “tracking collar.”
Well, the mystery days of a gentleman never tells are are over.
This week, I’m was fitted with my very own Tractive GPS collar. It’s sleek, secure, and scientifically designed to track my every heroic stride. Whether I’m patrolling the carpark, inspecting the cattle yards, or launching a solo reconnaissance mission against the birds—I’ll be traceable.
I suppose even legends need a little accountability.
Well anyway until next week, stay vigilant.
The birds may think they rule the acorn tree, but I am Mr Pumpernickle, and I do not surrender my kingdom.
