Category: Geometric animals

Olive is getting long in the tooth. And the older she gets, the less time she has for the carelessness of youth. In Olive’s day, it was accepted that youngsters should be seen and not heard, and she has never changed her view. In her opinion (which she will share at length to whoever will listen), the whipper-snappers these days show no respect for their elders, and are loud, obnoxious and self-obsessed. Olive takes revenge by smothering her young relatives with cuddles at every opportunity, safe in the knowledge that they find her whiskers terrifying.

Oliver is army. Like his father, and his father before him – you could say it’s a family thing. But Oliver fears he will never get past the rank of private. He has plenty of heart (in fact, he has three) and he’s an expert at camouflage. But deciding which limb to salute with has always been challenging. And deep down, he knows that when it comes to promotion, they won’t be able to see past his lack of backbone.

Hector is frustrated with his barber. Every Spring he goes in with a full, glossy fleece, and the hope of an elegant coiffure. And every year he comes out with the same severe buzz cut all over, except his head, which resembles a mop. It’s just plain lazy. Henry dreams of opening a salon where alpacas will come for tints and highlights, braids and Brazilian blow-dries. In the meantime he grinds his teeth and makes the most of his bangs.

Wendy doesn’t live to eat, she eats to live. So much time is spent creating elaborate dishes, when all Wendy really needs is a lot of something she likes. She has never understood the appeal of avocados, and is baffled by pomegranate jus. While her American cousins rave about the subtle flavour of raw fish, Wendy feels sushi lacks crunch, and prefers to dine exclusively on bamboo. Perhaps a lack of protein is to blame for Wendy’s low sex drive. Or maybe Bei Bei’s eyes are too close together. 

Kevin climbs fingers. He refuses to take flight from anything but a vertically extended index finger, and all summer he has been scouring the neighbourhood for likely looking digits. Luckily Kevin soon discovered the local primary school, where he found an inexhaustible supply of eager participants. Although the takeoff points are disappointingly low, the shrill squeals give each launch an added thrill, and he has even noticed fan art on the walls of the classroom. In his spare time Kevin is an organic gardener, keeping his blooms clear of aphids the old-fashioned way.

Yann, Philippe and Thibault are inseparable. Always chivalrous, they patrol the high seas in search of damselfish in distress. Daring rescues, bold adventures and duels with brigands are what they live for. When they are not shadowing Somali pirates, the three amigos spend their free time taunting boatloads of obese game fishermen off the coast of Florida. 

Yvonne is a dreamer. She finds the jungle boring, and her life of ninja stealth frustrates her. Often Yvonne imagines swapping her branch-bound reptilian existence for the freedom of a bird of paradise, soaring above the canopy and singing sweet melodies as she basks in the sunshine. On days like this Yvonne goes hungry, as her vivid plumage scares away her lunch. 

Scott has vision. Not the literal kind that involves having eyes, but a sense of what would amaze. In his vanishingly small brain, huge craft sail through the infinity of space, full of cavernous cargo bays which creak and drip with shadowy potential. Sadly Scott’s attempts at forming an underground film society have failed to catch on. He is left inching through the darkness alone, plagued by sudden dreams of stealthy xenomorphs. 

Brian hates forward thinking folks. Maybe it’s because he can only move in a sideways scuttle. As a child he was fond of rugby, but despite seeming ideally suited to the rough and tumble of contact sport, Brian was constantly penalised for rotating the scrum. This left him with a confirmed hatred of authority figures and progress. Now he divides his time between heckling town planning meetings and cheering on the Brexit negotiations.

Dennis tries hard to look good. He spends hours getting ready to parade up and down the paths of the botanical gardens he calls home. There’s no denying that his style is spectacular, but Dennis hasn’t had much luck in finding a mate – he is pathetically awkward with girls. As soon as he sees one, he finds himself trembling and erect. The local hens know he’s harmless, and just titter as they hurry past his quivering nethers.