Bad Lindy - invoking the Power

One morning, the cat appears, one eye slitty and swollen and trailing strands of pus like a refugee from a poor quality face painter.

"Time to call Bad Lindy down at the vet's," I say, reaching for the phone. Very furry cats don't do facial emotion - no wonder the RADA admittance figures for felines are so low - but I could swear that this one makes a passable, though fleeting attempt, at total horror.

Then it disappears for the rest of the day, leaving me cast as Pathetic Pet Owner, attempting at intervals to call it back by rattling its food bowl in a voice oozing so much affection that not even Helen Keller would have been taken in.

It returns in the evening, eyes clear and bright, no sign of infection and stalks past me, tail aloft and twitching.

A week later, it develops a sudden limp in one leg. This in no way impairs its ability to savage me with the remaining three when I attempt to check it.

"It's another Bad Lindy moment," I caution it. Again I get the look.

This time it reappears two days later, limp gone, pace even and high-stepping and all but sticks its tongue out at me.

I try it on a dying house plant. "I'm calling Bad Lindy." If plants could produce beads of sweat, this one would. Within weeks, there's fresh leaf growth and even an embryonic bud.

Bad Lindy. Name of power. Invoke it....if you dare.