I was sitting down at the harbour in Carrickfergus yesterday afternoon, just watching the boats and smelling the fish and chips that passers by were eating. I'd found a bench that was fairly free of seagull "splashings" as my uncle calls it and was deep in contemplation with my face well down into my coat for protection against the biting wind when Peewee McNaughton who I knew at school came along and sat down beside me - you can guess how he came by that name, but there weren't any malodorous whiffs coming off him yesterday, or if there were they were swiftly whipped away by the wind.

Last time I saw Peewee he was heading off to Australia to work on a sheep farm, or at least that's what he told us and I suppose we never thought to question it. The real reason it turns out was that he had saved up the money needed for cosmetic surgery and a clinic in Melbourne has the reputation as being the best in the world at trans-species limb attachment.

It was expensive, it was painful, but now Peewee has the bushiest kangaroo tail I've ever seen attached to his behind and he's really happy with it. Maybe at last he'll get to lose the nickname Peewee and be able to put behind him the humiliation of having wet himself in school and people will recognise him for some other reason.

Way to go Peewee.