All Visitors Great & Small

Had a visit from small 9 year old niece girl called Marvellous Martha last weekend.  I got over-excited and rushed after her from room to room startling her somewhat.  I must admit I also got a bit jealous as she was receiving a disproportionate amount of attention from my owner which was most definitely not on.  However, matters were improved slightly when my owner returned from Witney's The Pottery Place (if it is good enough for David Cameron's children, it is good enough for me) with a food dish for me featuring my beautiful form so that I may marvel at my bounteous splendour every time I receive my evening's ration of Lick e Lix pale pink paste (yum).

Making Friends with Local Wildlife

Very pleased to discover some exotic local wildlife (c/o Frosts Garden Centre) on the living room rug and immediately adopted stalking position and gave it a good bash about with paws.  Most interesting twig like bits projecting from its head that I also explored with my teeth.

I am naturally blessed with interior decorating skills and like to re-arrange glass baubles on Christmas trees to a more aesthetically pleasing position.  This usually involves standing on tip-toes, grabbing and pulling them with some force off a branch and then tossing them with great vigour around the floor until they break apart into many tiny pieces.  Roll on December I say, may the fun beginneth.

Have been rather bored over recent days though as 'the rain it raineth every day' in West Oxfordshire recently and I have not been particularly enthusiastic about taking myself into great puddles even if there are plenty of worms to be had.  I have been giving my owner a good shouting at when she returns from work and demand to be picked up and cuddled where I purr loudly.

Avon Calling

A Moses Basket

Crikey, bit of a tight squish to fit into my cat basket.  I've not used it for several months and think it must have 'shrunk in the wash'.  My owner implied I might have put on weight and I was most offended.  What is worse, I have to revist the vets soon for some booster jabs and a health check and last time they suggested I was rather on the portly side, can you imagine?

Still cultivating my fleas nicely despite Frontline assaults. My owner de-capitated one last night in the kitchen sink with some hot water and washing up liquid.  Have been assisting  with the wrapping of a few presents recently and she is a little concerned that she may be gift wrapping a few flea eggs for the recipients at the same time, lucky them!

Met nice 'Avon Calling' lady, Shirley, on Sunday afternoon and brushed around her ankles until highly offensive tortoiseshell feline appeared on opposite side of the road whereupon I charged like the lightbrigade (whatever that might be??).  I believe that their 'Skin So Soft' range is meant to be excellent at deterring mosquitos and midges and such like so maybe my owner ought to have bought some lotion for my infernal fleas.  Off for a snooze now ....

Ill Met By 7.15 pm

Ye Gads!  Afright your eyes upon these hellish harridans who alighted off their broomsticks for an evening of malevolent mayhem on Friday 26 October.  Perchance, I fear their internal body clocks may have been amiss as they arrived five days early as Halloween is but some five days oft.  However, I found them so alarming with their loud shrieking that I was too a'feared to speak up and correct them on this matter and hid myself in a pile of washing.  They shrieked, devoured, rested and then flew oft again the following morning leaving a trail of small bouncy eyeballs behind them (from out of a cracker).

I had hoped that they might bring me a tasty live mouse in their suitcase but it does not seem that modern day witches eat such things these days and prefer such stuff as Foot and Mouth Disease jelly as below.

The Great Catsby - Assisting with household tasks

I am quite keen on 'assisting' with household activities.  Here I am on the dining table having sat on the towel that my owner was using to wipe the table.  She then resumed her wiping with a blue cloth and I was a great aid in helping her get the table clean as you can see.  My household skills are also useful when ironing is in process as I can sneak up, hide and then attach my claws to a sheet so that my owner is incapable of pulling it across the ironing board as well as adding a fine layer of fur atop nicely warm ironed items.  Mopping is another common household task that I am able to offer my services for as I like to chase the mop, then rush outside and back again placing nice muddy footprints across the floor.  Yours splendidly skilled Hausmann Moses Mendel

The Swish of the Curtain

There is something very satisfying about hiding behind a curtain and ambushing an unsuspecting owner with a cry of triumph, dilated pupils and an attacking paw when they walk past.  It is especially fine when combined with the warmth of a radiator cover and a lined curtain to keep out the draughts.

Sadly no more delightfully smelly furry whiskered things or at least none that I've been able to drag into the house which has been a BITTER BLOW.  Even worse, one of the neighbourhood plebian moggies seems to be trying to send me a threatening message.  No not a horse head in my bed but uncovered mega-sized sloppy poop in two places on the gravel drive.  You won't find a pedigree cat pooping on dirt, heaven forbid ...  Anyway my owner was indignant as she trod on one pile and then had to get kitchen tongs out to scoop up the abominations.  Then as she left this morning there was a large furry tabby eyeing her on the opposite side of the road.  One of my owner's work colleagues has just adopted two rescue kittens and there has been mention of a kitten party.  I don't think she knows what she is letting herself in for as I am most likely to infest them with fleas and then round them up into a corner and terrorise them.

Catch of the Day

 

Immensely aggrieved.  Exited property at 6.00 am.  Re-entered property at 6.05 am with a small visitor in my mouth.  Deposited said visitor at my owner's feet.  Owner caught sight of what at first sight appeared to be a large spider leg disappearing under the sofa cover and let out loud shriek.  I immediately wished to calm her nerves and so caught and re-presented her with my offering - a small dark brown baby mouse.  Further shrieking ensued.  I then batted the mouse around the living room floor like Pele, letting it run and then trapping it with my paw.  My owner chased around after me with various implements, scooping up the mouse until it leapt off the spoon into my catches.  Eventually she trapped it under a tupperware box which I whacked about to get the mouse to move whilst my owner frantically searched for some card.  At 6.15 am my treacherous owner threw the mouse outside and shut me inside.  Refusing to make eye contact with her now ... meanie

Fe(Lion), the (W)Itch & the Wardrobe

Have spent much of the preceding week searching for Narnia in my owner's wardrobe and populating it with fleas.  Sadly, I failed to find my way into the magic kingdom for a meeting with Mr Tumnus but my fleas did meet another dose of Frontline as well as an application of household flea spray.  I have now had to abandon Narnia due to its toxic smelling environment.  What would CS Lewis make of chemical warfare upon his spellbinding landscape?

Other than that I was cruelly abandoned for over 12 hours last Saturday whilst my owner attended her cousin's wedding.  She wore a most exciting contraption on her head called a 'Fascinator' and I very much wanted to attack the waving feathers on her head but this was not a popular move on my part.

I am also trying to up my game as no. 1 bully cat on the block and charge at any passing cat that walks in front of my patch.  I've even trapped a few under cars and refused to let them out.  I have also resumed my slightly less sanitary habit of trying to fish bits of toilet paper out of the bowl whilst my owner is on the lavatory.  An immensely amusing activity but it is usually accommpanied by my owner yelling at me.  Don't know why Andrex puppies are allowed to get away with it ...

Oh, and must wish Darren Bell the best of luck peddling his bike to raise money for the MSTrust.

'Il y a une puce' loose about the hoose

I was relatively well-behaved in the night but my owner awoke at 3.05 am and went downstairs for a trip to the toilet where she discovered a fine specimen of cat flea sucking on her leg.  Upon returning upstairs she inspected my head and found an even larger example making merry amongst my fur.  My owner tried to catch it with her thumb and forefinger but my fur is too thick and it quickly disappeared amongst my snowy white pelt.  I must admit I am finding these creatures most aggravating but I do not help matters as I struggle for freedom when the flea treatment is applied and a large amount of it tends to land on my fur and not on the skin on the back of my neck.

My owner is continuing with the de-stoning of her front border.  However, now that the majority of gravel has gone one of the neighbourhood cats has taken it upon itself to adopt it as a new cat latrine much to my owner's disgust.  It isn't me, I refuse to use the outside facilities and prefer to make use of indoor facilities that befit my high status.

Of Mice and (Wo)Men

This is a picture of me sitting in a cat nip daze thanks to amazeballs mice kindly provided by Michelle Morgan, Manchester Physiotherapist Extraordinaire.  I can report back that they have considerably improved my manual dexterity and strength.  Sadly, I am rather lacking in real hunting skills.  I am able to present my owner with enormous spiders waving their legs out of my mouth in the early hours of the morning and am an expert fly trapper.  I can also go outside in the Autumnal months and bring in 17cms earthworms and hide my booty under the living room rug in record speeds.  However, real mice, birds and bunnies evade me as I get over-excited, chirrup loudly at them so they know I am coming and bound up with great noisy speed. 

Apart from this I have been scratching a great deal due to my irritating fleas, depositing flea dirt on my owners bedding, chasing moggie cats off the pavement and refusing to eat Waitrose own cat food sachets.

Three Dis(Graces) or the Terrible, Awful ...

Above is a picture of a cake that my owner made me for her mother's 70th Birthday.  I found the whole thing a major inconvenience.  It is meant to show my owner with her two sisters when they were teenagers.  Frankly,  the whole thing was a total waste of time as she frittered away about three hours modelling icing when she could have been admiring my great beauty, playing ball games with me or pushing her hands through my bounteous fur.  I will discourage such further crafting actitvities.  Even worse, the cake did not feature my great self but did feature some rather scruffy cats from the past.  Imagine!

 

Two dogs and a dumb feline

Sat at the end of the path on guard cat duty last night as my owner de-stoned her front flowerbed, no that isn't a euphemism for something else.  Saw something greatly exciting (mouse/rat/loose Lion from Essex) on drive opposite, adopted hunting pose and rushed towards neighbours' wrought iron front gates.  My idiot owner obstructed me and annoyingly picked me up and carried me back to her side of the fence.  I immediately resumed hunting pose and bounded past through the gates.  Most surprised to find large Labrador and Spinone dogs barking excitedly and chasing me in hot pursuit.  What a rush!  My owner did not seem to see the funny side of it and bundled me with great haste back into the house.  Never get to have any fun ...

The Unfortunate Incident of a Cat in the Night-time

Despite appearances, I am not too keen on sleeping and that applies especially during the hours of dawn and dusk.  What is worse, is having to watch my owner sleep when I'm ready to play games, be stroked and admired and fed tasty treats. 

Sadly it was a Bank Holiday in the UK this weekend and my owner thought she would try and 'lie in'.  I tolerated this on Saturday but on Sunday I was so enraged by my failed efforts to wake her that I found a teaspoon on her bedside table and threw it at her head.  What japes!  Last night I tried to rouse her at 3.15 am but the annoying woman fell back to sleep.  I tried a new tactic.  At 4.00 am I trampolined upon her stomach to awaken her and she awoke.  I watched as she turned her head on the pillow to the right and found the gift I had left on her sheet - yes something brown and round ...  That will teach her not to ignore me.

Lust in translation?

My owner informs me that she may have to change the title of her Blog from'Bad Cat Chat' as it may be confusing some menfolk further towards the snowy plains of the North Pole. 

She tells me that there is a feature on Blogger that lets you view the Audience of your blog so you can identify which countries are looking at your site as well as something called 'Traffic Source' that lets you see referring sites.  Unfortunately, my mistress clicked on one of these referring sites at work and discovered it was a
p(r)awn site, horrors.  How unfortunate to have this unwanted attention on myself.  She fears the internet search of 'bad' + 'cat' is confusing those with more of an elementary grasp of English who are searching for 'naughty' + 'pussy'.  Please note that I am a MALE cat and I most definitely don't want men ogling my furry physique so please kindly take yourself off elsewhere.

Grandparents House

An enjoyable weekend spent at Grandma's House at Stratford-on-Avon.  Soured slightly by large ginger cat coming into house and finishing off my food.  I was discovered by Grandpa standing in slightly apathetic way by the door whilst the invader was by my food bowl.  On appearance of a human I felt embarrased by my cowardliness and assumed appearance of manliness and chased the departing invader down the garden, hovercrafting over its back as it jumped onto the wall.

Dismayed by sight of bags in the hall (meaning horrible car journey and did not want to leave) so I went and hid under a bed and refused to come out or miaow when called.  A search party was formed and the whole house/garden/block scoured without success with much frowning and near wailing.  Eventually I deigned to show myself to the anxious adults but then hid again under a different bed until I was tricked into my horrid cat carrier and bundled into a hot car where I protested loudly.

Fifty Sheds of Grey(ish) Fur

Above are the instruments of torture that my mistress used on me last night.  My inner intestines are doing star-jumps just thinking about it.  I lay stretched out as she pushed the brush through the luxurious fur along my back and purred loudly.  When she tried to use the comb however it was too intense and I boxed with my back legs to get my mistress to remove the offending item.  My claw wedged in her tracksuit bottoms pulling the waistband down slightly so that they hung on her hips 'just so'.  However, worse was to come.  As I lay there triumphing in my victory over the removal of the comb I heard a loud snapping sound and a pungent smell of chemicals.  'Horrors', I thought she is trying to anoint me with that foul flea treatment.  I fled at once closely pursued by my mistress.  I tried to distract her with my penetrating blue eyes but my valiant efforts were thwarted.  Even my safe word of 'Lick E Lix' failed as I was pinned down and the noxious liquid applied.

Prawn Fest

Sleeping off Tescos half-price prawns whilst looking a bit like Mr Miyagi from the Karate Kid

Moses came down the mountain (or was it the roof)?

Oh dear, my owner is not too thrilled with me.  On Saturday morning she was just coming out of the bathroom when she heard a loud crashing sound.  She immediately rushed out the back door and there I was sitting nice as pie calmly on the decking.  'Oh well, must have been one of the neighbours", she thought.  About half an hour later when she was sat on the sofa I climbed aboard and gave her some nice CPR acupuncture on her chest.  At this point she noticed some streaks of blood on her t-shirt and that two of my back claws were bleeding slightly.  When she went upstairs she saw that one of the Velux windows in the bungalow roof was further open than she had left it so she thinks I decided to throw myself out upon excitement of seeing a bird.  Luckily the nice vet at Stanford-in-the-Vale could fit me in and she called me a 'handsome boy'.  Less nice was the nasty antibiotic shot and my owner was not too overjoyed about the bill.  Still at least I'm alright that is all that matters.

Cat Traffic

Busy evening.  Sat on the path outside my house and held my own against various neighbourhood cats.  Unfortunately, I took my aggro out (arched back and yowled) on one of the cats who is trying to defend our patch against another bully cat rather than the bully itself.  My owner was very embarrassed as my ASBO behaviour was in full view of the window of the owner of the other cat.  Still at least it was not the ginger tom who kept eating my expensive food and leaving a parting gift of a tom cat spray, that was just rude ...

Here I am taking a drink from my water bowl.  Thames Water c/o the tap doesn't really do it for me and I like to drink rainwater out of buckets left in the garden with the added attraction of floating leaves and dead flies which provide me with extra protein.  Although, I much prefer it when they are alive and I can hold them down with my paw and feel the buzzing sensation on my footpad.  Oh my!

Pale pink paste

Hail fellow bad cats, I am writing to tell you about my manly achievements yesterday. 

As it was raining yesterday evening I could not go outside which I found most dispiriting.  My owner informs me that ghastly Purina have discontinued my favourite sachet food which came with lashings of delicious gravy and she now keeps trying to fob me off with similarly high priced but immensely inferior alternatives.  I had eaten about half the food during the day but on her return I shouted at her loudly to immediately provide me with something more satisfying and befitting my high status but despite my loud protests she failed to do so and I was forced to eat small mouthfuls when she was not looking.  I lolled about for most of the evening and sat on a pile of items waiting to be ironed that my owner had kindly left out for me.  At about ten my owner went upstairs.  She tried to encourage me to take a resting place for the night but this was not for me and I rushed about the house seeking out potential enemies in dark and forbidding corners.  When I got tired of this pursuit I went upstairs but my owner was unresponsive.  This was shocking behaviour on her part so I immediately set forth with my forehead and great muscular body to push her limbs about until she woke up.  A satisfactory result was achieved and I was escorted downstairs to the kitchen.  My favourite pale pink paste was produced and she tried to enclose me within the kitchen.  Ha, ha, I thought, I am having none of that and rushed with manly vigour forthwith through the gap in the door.  She tried repeating this procedure several times without success.  She then returned to bed and I took my manly station on the end of the bed and sharpened my claws on her sheet.  Eventually slumber overcame me.  At 3.00 am I awoke and resumed my limb-moving technique so that my owner could come downstairs and I could demonstrate my manly prowess at attacking my toys as I was filled with much manly testosterone and needed to release my aggression.  She again tried the kitchen imprisonment without success.  At 5.15 am I demanded to be let out into the great wilderness and was not taking no for an answer.  At 7.20 just as my owner was getting ready to leave I demanded to be tucked under her bedspread so that I could recover my energies for another exciting evening …