Reef Encounter.

Oh dear! There's unrest at Pither Towers. Some-one's not a happy bunny - well, not a happy lobster to be accurate.
Reg, my pet lobster, has got a major league cob on which has prompted some sort of bizarre protest and I think I know the root of the problem.
Regular readers will remember that some weeks ago Reg got himself in a spot of bother after falling in love with the thermometer in his tank!

He took to dragging the object of his lust into his cave of a night until, on one fateful occasion, he hauled his bit of stuff behind him into his home but got it stuck in the entrance and so became entombed! I had to smash my way in to free him and decided there and then to take the thermometer out of the tank.

Well, that has gone down about as well as Aled Jones on an oilrig. Reg obviously sees himself as Trevor Howard to his thermometer's Celia Johnson and feels the agonies of doomed loved as depicted in the "terribly, terribly, terribly" British film classic Brief Encounter. It has to be said, however, that he is not handling it quite as well as Trev.
Our Reg has started a sulk which would put a toddler to shame and is brooding underneath a rock, glaring menacingly out at anyone and everyone. Worse than that, evidently when no-one is looking, he sneaks out to work on what I can only assume is a tunnel, a la The Great Escape. Sadly, he hasn't the wit to stroll calmy round the tank after his digging and whistle casually as he drops the resultant rubble out of his eight tiny, toughened trouser legs so as to avoid alerting the suspicions of any sub-aqua German guards on duty (I think I might just be losing it!!). No, quite the contrary. He has, in fact, built up a mountain of excavated crushed coral next to his hole and it is the obviousness of the mound which makes me think this is meant to be a highly visible protest staged for my benefit. He hasn't yet fashioned any placards but I'm sure he is constantly muttering to himself "Lay off lobster love", "Give my piece a chance", "Sing if you're glad to be cray-fish" and other such demo slogans.
Resolving this dispute is going to prove tricky, however. You see, I slung the thermometer because it had basically been shagged and pincered to death. I am going to have to buy a new one but will Reg spot the deception? How picky a suitor is he?
Speaking personally as I head for the divorce courts, I have to admit that I wouldn't be entirely against the idea of being provided with a young, fit, brand new lover. Then again, I have, as yet, never fallen in love with a thermometer.
Decisions, decisions. Whatever solution I come up with I think the heartache of losing a lover should be something only experienced in Grantham.

(EIDTOR'S NOTE: The protest continued - to see how, see The Hill.)