From ‘The Manual of Tiger Maintenance’

Every new moon Tiger prowls the hills looking for pesky things to swat with her razor sharp claws.

The poor thing perches on her make-up stool in front of her mirror examining her stripes for signs of moulting or fading and wails, “I’m so unattractive, let me die…but first let eat the hearts of my enemies – and anyone who gets on the wrong side of me today. Is that a white hair???!” *ooooooOOOOOOHHHHggg* (keening tiger wail ending in coughing sob).

Enter Rhino, diffidently: “Tiger, dear, your almond eyes are of the deepest amber – I could lose myself in rapture for hours gazing into them.”

*oooooooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHhhhhggggg*

“There, there…for simply hours! You are lovelier than ever. No, your bum is not at all fat. That’s not a white hair: whiskers are meant to be white. And springy. Yes, that is a remarkably sharp claw. And very elegant. My angelic Tiger-Pooh, it is not really necessary for you to put it up my nose, even though you are quite correct that my nostril hair could use a trim – your claw, though elegant and razor sharp is perhaps not the best instrument. You will regret it (even more than I) should you slip (or be distracted by the animal within). No, I know you never slip. You are quite perfect my darling. The world loves you. And so do I. That’s better – gnaw quietly on my horn while I soothingly stroke your pelt.”

*oooo oooo oooooohhhh*