More Bad News

I have received more bad news regarding my friend The Baron. He is very, very ill and it makes his human cry, which makes me, Softie, and the British One cry too.

He is a good cat, and a good friend. I am so depressed by his sorrowful news that I haven't even felt much like eating my delicious diced chicken. I'd much rather curl up on the dining room rug and mope.

My heart is breaking for my friend.

My Dear Friend The Baron

I am worried about my friend The Baron. He has been a very good friend, and his human Lauren has a wonderful lap.

The Baron has been ill recently, and had to visit the evil vet. Lots of bloodwork was done and we are all very worried.

Please send get well messages to Baron Von Stinkerton. I am worried for my friend.

Still Too Hot

Over the course of the past several weeks there has been a lot of what the humans refer to as "bad weather."

It has been very, very hot indeed--so much so that I have not yearned to go outdoors. I much prefer the comfort of the cool, air-conditioned house.

Yesterday we finally got a reprieve, but unfortunately it came in the form of severe thunderstorms. I do not like thunderstorms. I do not like loud noises in general, but coupled with bright flashes of light and balls of ice falling from the sky--it's a recipe that produces one very worried, stressed kitty.

I sought solace on top of the British One, who sat on the sofa speaking on the phone to his cousin in Australia. Apparently he was having great difficulty hearing her because of the noise from the rain and balls of ice hitting the windows and roof. It sounded to me as if the roof was falling in!The British One and I also feared for Softie's safety, because she was late coming home from work. Eventually she made it home, but I was very worried about her and could not eat any of my delicious diced chicken until I knew she was safe.

Today is bright and sunny. There is no rain, no loud booms, no bright flashes of light and no balls of ice falling from the sky. There is also no sticky humidity.

I believe it is time to inform them that I would like to go outside.

Too Hot!!

It has been so hot and humid that I have not been allowed outside.

I don't mind not getting to go outside, because the British One let me go outside with him over the weekend and it was TOO HOT! I was panting within minutes of going out, and ran back inside to the safety of the air conditioning.

Even in a nice cool house I have been overcome with lethargy. My favorite pasttime this week has been to stretch out on the dining room rug and let the cool air gently blow across my fur.

Ah bliss!

I Don't Wanna Be Sedated

Bright and early this morning I was unceremoniously stuffed into the Pet Taxi and taken to the evil vet. This is the evil vet who is not really quite so evil, and who always wears Birkenstock sandals. This is good to know in case I decide I no longer like him--because I could easily jump from the examination table and bite his toes and ankles.

He looked me over and did some blood work on me. I cannot be quite certain, but he seemed to be speaking to Softie and the British One about possibly sedating me and then having a go at my teeth and nappy dreads.

I don't think I like the idea of someone messing around with my teeth. The last time this happened I ended up missing three teeth and my back and front legs didn't want to cooperate properly for the evening.

A Good Brushing

Over the weekend I took up residence on Softie's lap. She has been feeling poorly and I have been trying to cheer her up and make her feel better.

She paid me back with a good long brushing, which I thoroughly enjoyed until she attacked me with the evil scissors. I let her clip me a little bit, but I drew the line at having my back legs clipped. I don't like anyone touching my legs--and she knows it!

Now I'm being threatened with being taken to a professional groomer, and I don't know what that means.

I'm a Good Helper

Softie has been under the weather for the past week. On Thursday she ended up having to go to a human vet to be checked out. Luckily I did not have to go with her. I stayed at home and helped the British One paint the upstairs hall, stairway and ceiling. I helped by watching as he balanced himself precariously on a plank of wood stretched across the stairs and a ladder. I made sure he didn't fall as he used a paint roller on a long pole to paint the ceiling of the stairway corridor. It's an old house, and the ceilings are very high.

Softie has to take a bunch of evil, vile meds because of an infection in her chest. She coughs a lot, which is not very comfortable when I am dozing on her lap, but I feel it is my catly duty to curl up on her to help her feel better.

I think it is working. She, like the stairway corridor, seems to be a little bit brighter this morning.

Mmmmmmmm...Pork Rinds!

A solitary strange man came to my house today. He is one of the men who comes in and makes a lot of mess and noise, but today he worked fairly quietly, probably because he didn't have his cohorts in crime with him.

I was not relegated to the dining room and kitchen today, as I normally am when the strange, noisy men appear, and I took full advantage of it by watching the strange man from the comfort of the office desk. The best vantage point being, of course, right in front of the British One as he tried to peck furiously at the keyboard.

After a brief struggle, the British One gave up trying to peck furiously and went downstairs for a snack, so I crept upon the strange man and watched as he worked on the wall. It's all very odd--there have been holes knocked into walls to make doors, and doors covered up to make walls. I can't quite wrap my head around it.

The strange man turned and spoke to me, which startled me into dashing back to the office, just as the British One reappeared with a nice plate of pork rinds. The strange man called to the British One, who set the plate on the desk and walked into the hallway.

I saw my chance. How could I resist a heaping plate of pork rinds when they are placed right in front of me?! I sniffed them and decided they smelled quite delicious, so I tentatively licked at one.

Superb! I began to lick all of them at once, savoring each greasy bite. The British One turned and caught sight of my tongue on a pork rind, and he raised his voice a bit, but as I'd already had a taste I decided to continue until he scooped me up and dumped me into the floor.

I licked my lips for a long time afterwards.

Another Trip to the Evil Eye Vet

I enjoy having a routine that makes sense, and one that makes me happy. Therefore, I expect my breakfast to be served at the same time each morning. When this doesn’t happen, I usually suspect the worst.

The worst, of course, being a trip to the evil vet.

Yesterday I did not have my delicious diced chicken served to me at the correct time in the morning. In fact, I didn’t get it served to me AT ALL! I gently reminded Softie of it as she puttered around in the kitchen yesterday morning, but she ignored my pleas and persuasions. I had a bad feeling she and the British One were up to no good, and once again my kitty instincts were correct.

I was scooped up and cuddled by Softie, while the British One got the dreaded Pet Taxi from the Magic Portal. I was stuffed inside against my wishes, and carried out to the metal monster. I made several loud demands to be released, but Softie switched on the iPod, pulled the metal monster from the garage and headed up the highway. Soon I had calmed down and am proud to say that I didn’t drool or pant at all in the metal monster.

We arrived at the evil eye vet, who poked and prodded my eyes again. I tried to use the claw on him, but his assistant held me down rather well, so that I could not stick claw into flesh. Terribly unfortunate really, because I truly wanted to draw blood. I have to admit, however, that the poking and prodding didn’t hurt at all. I just don’t like strangers messing with me. I also don’t like bright lights shined into my eyes. It’s just bad manners.

Dr.K told Softie that I am stable and seem to be doing well. I could have told her that!

For my trouble, I was coddled and given lots of love and attention for the remainder of the day, and the British One shared a pot of strawberry swirl yogurt with me.

Cold Turkey

I don't understand it.

They know my most favorite food in the world is turkey. I have also been on this planet long enough to know that turkey, like my birthday, only comes around once a year.

The British One and Softie keep making comments behind my back. They think I can't hear them, and that I don't understand what they are saying.

They make references to cold turkey.

I wish I had some turkey right now. I think it would make my head feel a little better. I might have overdone it a little on the COSMIC CATNIP over the weekend.

Maybe.

The Cosmic Catnip Caper

Being locked away in the dining room and kitchen this week finally worked out in my favour yesterday.

After a delicious breakfast of diced chicken, the British One closed the pocket doors, shutting me off from the rest of the house. The strange, noisy men turned up at the house shortly afterwards, which I knew meant I was in for another day of being locked away.

I decided to make the most of it by dozing on the Poang ottoman, which has been moved into the dining room so that I may sit and look out the window. After awhile, however, I was bored of napping and decided to see what sort of mischief I could get into in the kitchen. As previously stated in another diary entry, I have found that if I stare at a door long enough, it will open.

Yesterday I sat on the kitchen floor and stared at the door to the Magic Portal, hoping my staring powers would pop open the door. Sorry to say the Magic Portal door remained firmly closed.

The door next to it, however, shuntered ever so slightly to the rhythmic pounding of the strange noisy men upstairs, then creaked open. I was startled by this development, but was not about to let the opportunity pass. I tentatively nosed the door open further, and discovered that this door--the door next to the Magic Portal--was filled with gastronomical delights of the highest order!

Filled to bursting with loads of tins of food and delectable edibles, I realized I had finally located the fabled Magic Cupboard! And I was living every cat's dream--full, unauthorized access to the Magic Cupboard. I could hardly believe my good fortune.

I began to sniff around inside, passing up the unopenable tins, the boring bottles of oil, vinegar, and cooking sherry, the sealed bags of nachos, crisps and the boxes of crackers. I could smell something wonderful, but the smell was faint. I nosed further inside the Magic Cupboard, until I was completely inside. Then I climbed up onto the lowest shelf, which I could easily reach, even with arthritic legs.

The smell was a little stronger on the shelf, so I began to root around until I had located the small, foil packet. It had been opened and sealed shut again with a puzzling plastic clip, which I attempted to figure out but gave up shortly in favour of the tried and true biting-a-hole-in-the-packet way. I gnawed away at the shiny blue and silver packet, eyeing the big smiling cartoon cat on the label with glee. I knew the packet well: COSMIC CATNIP TREATS!!!

After a time I had worked a decent sized hole in the packet and began to shake the packet with my teeth so that the treats fell to the floor. I quickly jumped from the shelf and gobbled them up. Feeling the happy buzz, I batted the foil packet all around the kitchen floor, a trail of cosmic catnip treats behind me. Once I had removed as many treats from the hole as I could manage, I knocked the packet back inside the Magic Cupboard and set about gorging myself.

Later I crept back onto the Poang ottoman and had the most fantastic dreams. When Softie got home that afternoon I couldn't even be bothered to climb down from the ottoman to greet her. I was feeling too fine. She scratched my head a bit, then went upstairs to speak with the British One and to look at the most recent destruction in the mysterious fourth bedroom.

They had quite a bit of cleaning to do upstairs but I couldn't be bothered to help, although I managed to wander from the dining room to the lounge, where I climbed up on the sofa and promptly fell asleep.

The humans eventually went out to dinner with the next door neighbors (owners of the evil Mooch) and didn't come back until late. I didn't care.

When they finally returned, Softie discovered the foil packet lying in the floor of the Magic Cupboard. She showed it to the British One and they both laughed quite a lot. I don't like to be laughed at, but I felt so lovely that I didn't care. I merely raised my head and looked at them, then let it flop back down on the ottoman.

Sometime in the night, however, I started not to feel quite so great. With a very violent surge, I jumped from the ottoman just in time to vomit yellowish-tan putty all over the dining room rug. Then I slept some more.

Today I am still very lethargic and my tummy is a bit dicky. I can't imagine why?

Will It Ever End?

The noisy destruction of the mysterious fourth bedroom continues.

I think it is quite rude to be locked in the dining room and kitchen for the entire day. Why won't they let me stay outside? Why do they feel the need to supervise my every move?

I feel like taking a crap on the rug.

Confusion!

As if last weekend wasn’t chaotic enough, all this week I have had to deal with strange, noisy men in my house. They have taken a great interest in the mysterious fourth bedroom. They have done things which I cannot believe Softie and the British One would be happy about. My humans must not realize that the strange men have knocked a hole through their bedroom wall, and they must not realize that the strange men have ripped out the walls and floor of the mysterious fourth bedroom.

Naturally I have been relegated to the dining room and kitchen during the day, so I can only inspect their work after they have gone. When I saw what the men had done I felt it my duty to inform the British One all about it. He didn’t seem too surprised by what I told him, nor did Softie. In fact, I think they must have known something about the strange men because on Sunday evening the two of them busied themselves with moving all their belongings from THEIR bedroom into MY bedroom, which I had been helping the British One paint.

They are sleeping in MY bed, with MY duvet and pillows. Of course I sleep with them, usually at the foot of the bed between Softie’s ankles. It’s quite disorienting to me, however, and I can never seem to remember which way the door swings open because it is different from their bedroom door. One swings to the left, the other to the right.

This morning I stood at the door trying to nudge it open, only to have the British One laugh at me and open the other side. It was an honest mistake, and one that could have been easily avoided if my humans had doorknobs on that door. The knobs were removed so that the doors could be painted, and the have not yet been replaced. How am I supposed to know which side of the door opens without a doorknob to guide me?

The Feline Ambassador

Saturday morning, bright and early, strange men came into my house and made a lot of noise and dust. I was banished to the kitchen and dining room again while they worked. The strange men worked in the stairway this time, and made a big hole in the wall. It has been covered over so I cannot explore it, but I will try to find a way around this small setback.

After the strange men left, Softie and the British One cleaned and tidied the house. I helped by meowing loudly at them to let them know where the dust and dirt were. I also meowed loudly to go outside, and finally Softie went out with me to the back garden. She clipped grass around the fence and I chewed it.

Softie and I went back inside and I took a short nap on the dining room rug while she prepared a lot of really delicious smelling food. The British One continued to clean the upstairs of the house, and the vile vacuum he was using woke me up. So I helped Softie out in the kitchen by discussing my diced chicken fantasies with her. She obliged and I had a nice meal.

Then the phone began to ring, and people began showing up. Some of them I knew, like Doug (the human of Maya and Inca), Christian and Michelle (humans of Jackson and Gabby), Lauren (human of my good friend The Baron) and Laura (human of Crackers). A lot of them I did NOT know, however, and it made me mildly distressed. Plus everyone was coming into the kitchen and dining room to fill their plates high with delicious smelling food, none of which I could reach.

To make matters worse, everyone went outside and enjoyed the back garden, and I was stuck inside the house! UNFAIR! As more people turned up some sat inside on the sofa with me, and I got a really good scratching from a guy named Brian. I ended up lying on his head for a time. I also took a nap in Jess's lap, and got carried around by Softie, Michelle and Laura.

It was a long day, and the shindig went on well into the night. It was very tiring to be the official ambassador and keep everyone happy and entertained.

This morning I slept in until 10am!

Lost

I have still not been allowed back outside in the front of the house. I went outside with the British One, but it was the back garden and at the moment I am much more interested in the front. I enjoy the shade of the front porch, and there are no fences to keep me away from exploring the neighbors’ front gardens.

Softie was inside preparing dinner when their friends Christian and Michelle turned up. They are the humans of my kitty friends Jackson and Gabby. A lovely meal was served up, of which I got exactly nothing, but it was okay because the British One served up a heaping helping of delicious diced chicken for me.

The humans are hooked on a television program called Lost. The humans take turns visiting each other to have dinner and watch the program. I always enjoy seeing Chris and Michelle because Michelle spreads my blankie out on her lap and lets me nest.

I personally do not see the fascination with this program. For starters, there is a big barker that lives with the survivors. I don’t like him. Second of all, they have a massive litterbox right at their feet and don’t even realize it. Thirdly, they have all those wonderful trees to climb, but no one ever does. Also, the caves seem like a great place to explore, but all they ever seem to do is sleep in them. And all those bare toes and ankles! They are just ripe for biting. I salivate at the thought.

Instead, the survivors of the plane crash are all preoccupied with building a raft (which is just silly because it involves WATER) and that thing in the ground called a hatch. I admit that my curiosity is piqued by the hatch, but I’d be able to sniff around on it and decide whether or not it was worth the trouble.

I've Got the Bad Cat Blues

Since my little dash for freedom last week I have not been allowed to venture out the front door. I realize that I might have overstepped my boundaries a bit, and I realize that I am being punished.

It doesn’t, however, mean that I necessarily agree with it. And it certainly doesn’t mean that I haven’t made my wishes known to both Softie and the British One whenever they go anywhere near the front door.

The British One took me outside with him, but it was in the back garden, which has a fence. After racing around in the sunlight and teasing the big barker next door, I tried to squeeze through the gate railings to get into the front garden, where I could see Softie planting flowers and mulching.

Oddly, I couldn’t fit between the gate railings. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get my body to go through. I got my head between the rails, but realized very quickly that I was going to become stuck if I went any further. This is quite puzzling, because I am a very svelte boy…or at least I thought I was.

The abundance of delicious diced chicken, coupled with the glorious spoonfuls of strawberry swirl yogurt, are obviously having an effect on my usually petite size. Therein is the dilemma:

Do I continue to enjoy delicious diced chicken and spoonfuls of strawberry swirl yogurt, or do I shun food in the hopes that I will drop down to a size that will squeeze through the gate to freedom?

No question about it really. It took too long for me to teach my humans to feed me the foods I love and deserve. I’m not going to abandon all that hard work! I shall continue to eat my delicious diced chicken and strawberry swirl yogurt.

I suppose I will begin training my humans to let me go outside in the front of the house whenever I wish. It will be a long and difficult battle, because my humans are not very clever.

I just hope it doesn’t take another seventeen years!

I Smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E

So I got myself into a spot of trouble over the weekend.

Saturday morning Softie went outside to work in the front garden. I watched from the front window, and each time she would come up to the porch I’d run to the door and yowl to let her know that she needed my help. I’ll never know how she managed any of it without my assistance.

I put on my best “poor kitty” look and made sure she could see me in the window. I went upstairs to swindle the British One into letting me go out, but he was too busy yelling at the glowing box as his team sunk closer to relegation, and he told me to stop whinging.

After a time Softie came back inside to get some bottled water, and I made sure to let her know that she couldn’t possibly finish the project without my expert advice. Finally she relented and told me if I “could be good” she would let me outside to help. I readily agreed.

And I bounded out the door and down the steps of the porch as fast as my legs could carry me! I rushed my way next door to make sure the horrible barker Mooch could see me, with Softie hot on my heels. She scooped me up and put me back into our garden.

So I scooted off in the other direction and had made it all the way down two gardens when she caught up with me. She told me I was a bad kitty and put me back on the porch. She had just sat down to enjoy her bottled water when I made another break for it, this time legging it into a neighbors back garden via their open gate.

I could hear Softie yelling at me, which made me run even faster. I raced around this strange garden, and Softie would have never ever caught up with me had I not stopped to sniff a flower near the neighbor’s back patio.

Banishment to the inside of the house ensued, but it was worth every second of freedom.

I must do it again sometime.

What's New Pussycat?

I quite enjoy helping Softie and the British One with their various little projects. It gives me a wonderful sense of well-being.

Yesterday the British One decided to tackle painting the second bedroom. I’m pleased he’s decided to rid the world of the vile colour in that room, as it was putting me right off of napping in there. It’s a very good napping room otherwise, because the bed and duvet are quite comfy. The massive window in the room is an excellent vantage point for watching birds, squirrels and humans walking their dreadful little yapper-dogs.

He donned his old sweats and commenced moving bits of furniture out of the room, while I helped by sitting on the bed, watching. He moved the bed to one side, brought in a ladder and buckets of white primer, and marked off the floor and window with wide blue tape. And then he did a very wonderous thing:

He opened the massive window.

I was up and in the window in no time. It was the perfect place for me to orchestrate the goings on inside the room, while being able to keep a watchful eye on the goings on outside in the garden and on the street. The British One switched iTunes on and began a long, sweaty day of priming the walls, doors and skirting boards. I helped out by lying in the window for most of the day, keeping him company and listening to him alternate between ranting at the state of the walls and singing along to Tom Jones.

I’m already geared up for helping with the second coat today. My massive window awaits!

Pretty Purrsuasion

Sometimes it is so incredibly easy to persuade my humans. I’ve discovered one of the best ways of persuasion is to look as handsome and fluffy as I possibly can. They simply cannot resist me when I strike a pose.

Yesterday I wanted to go outside, so I decided to try a different tactic on the British One. Normally, when I wish to go outside, I demand quite loudly to go out. The British One just says “stop whinging” and doesn’t even look my way as he shoots down my demands. He also gets very angry with me when I use the claw on him.

So yesterday I tried something different. As he sat in the office pecking away at his keyboard, I pawed softly at his elbow and then sat looking at him quietly. This didn’t work. So I pawed again, ever so gently, and again sat on the floor. He turned to look at me and I cocked my head to one side and gave a whisper meow. Oh he was eating right out of my paw! He simply could not resist me! Next thing I knew we were outside and I was rolling in the grass with the glorious sunlight on my fur.

Later on, after I'd scampered inside to escape the dreaded grass-chopping noisemaker, Softie came home. I decided to use a bit of pretty persuasion on her as well, just to assure myself that I hadn’t lost my touch. I located her in the office, looking over the British One’s shoulder at the glowing box, as he explained something to her.

First I perfectly aligned my front paws, and then I puffed out my chest to make my white bib very fluffy. I shook my tail a couple of times so that it would be big and bushy, then I curled it on the floor in a semi-circle and gave a playful meow. Softie turned to look at me and couldn’t resist my handsome self. She scooped me up and carried me all over the house for a long time, telling me what a handsome boy I am.

It’s good to be the king.

The Eyes Have It

Last night, as I napped on Softie’s lap, I heard a voice on the television say “Please don’t stare, it’s not nice.”

I’ve been pondering this odd phrase, and have decided that the voice on the television is dead wrong. Staring can be incredibly rewarding.

When I stare at a door long enough, it magically opens.

Staring at sleeping humans causes them to wake up and feed me.

The power of my stare compels the British One to give me spoonfuls of strawberry swirl yogurt.

If I stare long enough at dining humans, morsels magically fall onto the floor.

Staring at birds makes them stagger drunkenly, which makes them easy to catch.

Yes, staring is very underrated.

Who is Doctor Who?

The British One always refers to buildings that are larger inside than they appear from the outside as a “Tardis.” I’m beginning to believe that I live inside such a building.

There’s the Magic Portal, for instance. It looks like an average door in the kitchen, but it leads to an entire new world under the house. From the Magic Portal I am able to go through another ordinary looking door by the washer and dryer and end up out in the back garden.

This weekend I have discovered yet another door that leads to someplace I’ve never seen before. I had never noticed the door behind my litterbox on the second floor. As far as I could tell, my box was up against the wall in a tiny, dim alcove near the humans’ bedroom. Not so!

That gloomy little alcove actually houses a door, and on the other side of that door there is another entire room!! It’s much larger than a closet and it’s larger than the second floor bathroom. It’s not as large as the bedrooms or the office, but it’s a really good sized room for a cat. I’m guessing the British One and Softie are going to fix it up into a proper kitty bedroom for me, even though they should realize by now that every room in this house is already mine.

The British One and Softie have had strange men in to look at the new room, and I’ve had great fun pouncing on the metal measuring tapes used to get the room dimensions. Already part of the hardwood floor has been removed and there appear to be some excellent hiding places beneath the remaining boards, which I am sure they will keep for me to explore.

It will be a fantastic kitty room when they get it finished. I’m just puzzled as to why they have insisted on purchasing strange, non-kitty type items for this room.

Stuff like faucets, sinks and tile.

Lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely

All day today I have been left by myself. Softie got up earlier than usual this morning, and when she left the house the British One went with her.

Oh, and they KNEW they would be away all day. They fed me a huge amount of delicious diced chicken this morning, and also piled a heap of organic kibble into a second dish. In the event that I got desperate, I suppose.

I have no idea where they went, nor do I care. What matters is that I have been left by myself ALL DAY, while they cavort elsewhere. I don't like it.

I suppose I will have to shun them when they return.

They'd better return soon! The delicious diced chicken is gone and the dreaded kibble beckons.

Of Claws and Clippings

It's hard work taking care of two humans. They must constantly be reminded of the simplest things, such as making sure my food dish is kept full and my box emptied. They never seem to understand the easiest of phrases either. Like "OUT" for instance. No matter how plainly I speak the word, nor how often I demand it, they feign ignorance.

Just yesterday afternoon I had to use a bit of claw on the British One so that he would be reminded to heat up some delicious diced chicken for me. He was busy staring intently into the glowing box in the office, and pecking furiously at the keyboard. He wasn't pleased with the claw, but it worked.

Later in the evening I had to sprawl myself across Softie's lap to remind her that I needed a good brushing. After several circles in her lap, she finally got the hint and got out the brush, comb and scissors.

Normally I don't enjoy being attacked with the evil scissors, and I especially loathe for anyone to touch my belly, but even I had to admit that the nappy dreads on my tummy were getting a little out of control. I lay quietly on her lap and let her gently cut out the dreads on my belly, and now I am a very handsome cat indeed.

Stormy Weather

I don't like bright flashes of light in the middle of the night.

I also don't like the loud booms that follow the flashes.

But I am NOT a "fraidy-cat."

I just don't like thunderstorms.

Glorious Sunny Days!

The weather has been very gorgeous indeed, and I have done my best to take full advantage of it.

I helped the British One hang curtains in the bedroom yesterday, and then, because of the great effort I exerted, I took a nice nap on the bed.

When Softie came home I legged it down the stairs as fast as I could and told her that I needed to go outside. She and the British One debated about it because apparently they were planning to go somewhere, but I won and they went outside in the back garden with me. I did some exploring and they ate popcicles.

I realized that the sun was very hot, and there isn't much shade in the back garden. When we lived in the other house there was plenty of shade underneath the shrubbery and I used to hide there quite a bit and watch the world go by. Now I don't have any place to hide from the sun or the world. My black fur got hot very quickly.

I decided to go inside, which I think surprised my humans. From now on, I am going to demand to hang out on the front porch, which has plenty of shade.

Gloomy Days Inside the House

I wish the weather would cheer up, because it is starting to depress me. I want to go outside but the British One and Softie won't let me because they think it is too wet.

Instead, I have been locked inside the kitchen and dining room while the strange men continue making a lot of racket and dust in the rest of the house. I hope they will be finished soon, because I don't enjoy being closed off inside my own house.

The British One was kind enough to pull a dining chair over to a window so I could sit comfortably and look outside, but there wasn't anything interesting going on. It was too wet for the birds to be hopping around in the grass, and the squirrels must have been hiding from the rain as well.

After the strange, noisy men left for the day I was freed from my dining room prison and allowed to wander the house, so I decided to let the British One know how upset I was at being locked up all day. I left him a nice, stinky gift on one of the rugs. He wasn't very pleased and informed Softie about it as soon as she came home. They both told me I was a "bad kitty" but they have it all wrong. THEY are the bad ones! THEY had me cooped up all day and I couldn't visit with the British One in his office, nor could I nap on the Poang, nor on the bed, and I couldn't even sit on the arm of the sofa and look out the large front window.

I'm not a bad kitty. I just have BAD HUMANS!

A Day of Surprises

Yesterday was perfect. Softie and I went outside and potted some flowers into containers, and then I raced all around the garden in the sunlight. The big ugly dog next door (whose name I have discovered is "Mooch") barked and snarled at me through the privacy fence but I'm no longer too worried about him. I've discovered that he cannot jump the fence, and can only see me a tiny bit through one slat. I couldn't help but to tease him a little by walking over to the fence and flopping around on the lawn in front of his drooling muzzle.

I must admit that my little kitty mind was blown when the British One emerged from a wooden door in the ground. I've seen this door before, and in fact have walked all over it on occasion, but I had no idea that it actually OPENED! It was too much for me. I had to find out where the door led. I trotted gingerly down the steps and discovered that this door is the Magic Portal2! Upon arriving at the bottom of the steps, I was standing next to the washer and dryer! Amazing!

If my powers of deduction are correct (and I am sure they are because I am such a clever kitty) this means that when I venture into the Magic Portal in the kitchen, I can exit via the Magic Portal2 into the back garden. Brilliant!

The British One got out the grass-chopping noisemaker, so I decided to beat a hasty retreat back inside the house for a little while. Softie went around to the front of the house and continued with her planting and weed pulling, and then after all the work was finished I had yet another surprise: I got to go outside in the front of the house!

The British One and Softie sat on the front porch admiring their handiwork, and I got to wander around the porch, the perimeter of the house and even (briefly) to the next door neighbor's front garden. I rolled around on the sidewalk and helped Softie water all the containers of flowers.

I never wanted it to end, but honestly I began to grow a bit weary from all the excitement of new places and surprises, and so was secretly glad when they brought me back inside. A bit later they left to go curtain shopping and I sacked out in the Poang. I slept until they returned several h0urs later, laden with shopping bags.

I took note of the two pots of strawberry swirl yogurt that were put into the big, cold foodbox...

I love yogurt!

Last night the British One and Softie sat down to watch a bit of television, and the British One decided to attempt eating a pot of yogurt.

I was dozing on Softie's lap when I heard the lid being peeled back. Naturally I had to climb onto the British One's lap to inspect the goods. He scooped a huge spoonful of the delicious yogurt and then put it into HIS month. Sorry, but this is not how it is supposed to be. The yogurt is supposed to go into MY mouth.

I tugged on his sleeve and gave my best "pleading kitty" look. He managed a few more spoonfuls into his mouth as I edged closer to the hand holding the pot.

Finally he gave up and held the spoon out for me. It smelled different and I was momentarily apprehensive, but I tentatively rolled out my tongue and tried a wee taste. That was all it took.

I lapped up every delicious spoonful of peach flavoured yogurt, and then tried to stick my head inside the pot. The British One wouldn't let me though and held the pot up over his head very high.

I love yogurt.

Disruption in my schedule

The past few days have been very disruptive for me, and I don't like it.

First the British One and Softie left me alone all day long on Monday while they went out and played.

Then a new batch of strange men have come into my house and are making a lot of noise. They have been carrying lots of stuff into my house, and have been making it disappear into the ceiling of the second floor. The worst thing about these strange men isn't the noise--but believe me when I say it is very LOUD. No, the worst thing is that because they are working on the second floor and inside the ceiling, I have been relegated to the kitchen and dining room. The British One put me inside the kitchen and then pulled out the pocket doors, shutting me off from the lounge (and my sofa!), and the second floor (my bed!). It's very rude.

There is much talk about something called central air, and much discussion about a state-of-the-art system that is sympathetic to older homes.

We live in an old house alright. I thought with old homes came mice to catch, but so far I haven't seen any. It's quite disappointing. I used to catch mice at my other house. I'd go outside in the autumn and if I sat real still in the garden I could usually catch myself a mouse to present to Softie.

I do rather enjoy watching her scream and jump around.

Opening Day

Today was something called Opening Day. I don't have the slightest idea what it means, but Softie took the day off work and she and the British One fed me early and left me home alone all day. I didn't want to go with them anyway. I much preferred to stay here and answer my Catster catmail. I'd like to say a warm hello to my newest friends: Mercedes, Milo, Sofie, Riley, Pebbles, Dracula, Amber Rose, Celeste, Korah Bell and Midnight Sunset. I'm pleased to know you and to call you friends.

I heard the British One and Softie say something about a parade in downtown Cincinnati, and something about a baseball game. I don't know what a parade is, but I know what a ball is, and I know that a ball is fun to chase. Until it gets stuck behind a sofa, that is.

The two of them were gone for a long time too. They must have walked for miles because they both came back to the house and complained to me about their sore feet. I didn't care about their sore feet and told them as much. I was more interested in going outside! The sun has been shining all day and temperatures are mild and lovely. I'm going to go outside right now and let the sun warm my fur.

Relinquishing my Cat of the Week Crown

I've had a wonderful time as Cat of the Week and I wish it didn't have to end. I realize, however, that there are lots of other fantastic felines that deserve a chance at Cat of the Week, so I do not mind relinquishing my crown.

I've gained a lot of friendships this week, and would like to say hello to my newest friends: Joey, Skippy, Sharon, Krispie, Muffin, Tailer, Simpson, Bobbie and June. I am honoured to be your friend.

The weekend started out quite ugly, with cold rain and high winds. As much as I demanded to go outside, neither the British One nor Softie would open the door. If only I could work the doorknobs myself--it would sure save me a lot of hassle. The ugly weather left overnight and we awoke this morning to sunshine and warmth. I went outside with the British One as he read the paper, and then I tried to assist Softie with trimming the hedges. I quickly decided that I didn't like the noise though, and scampered back toward the kitchen door.

I've been outside so much today that all I want now is a warm lap and a bowl of delicious diced chicken.

Feline Casanova

Wow! The celebrations continue in honour of being named Cat of the Week on Catster.

The British One and I went outside yesterday for a long time. I got to enjoy lots of fresh air and sunshine on my fur. I also got a good brushing!

Softie fed me an extra large helping of delicious diced chicken too. I'm quite pleased with myself.

Best of all, I have loads of new friends! I'd like to say hello to my newest friends:

Mugsy, Taffy, BlueSage Daniel Beau Buffett, Little Miss Molly, Teddybear Tuxedo, DejaBlue Micah W. Downey Jr, Leo, Archibald, Muddy, Sport, Tempest (aka Poopie), Tigger, Prince, Kody, Manny, Pudgie, Scrappy, Corky, Munchie, Misty, Leo, Pie, Big Bit, Little Bit, Kallie, Nicky, Snowball, Cooper, Licorice, Scampie and Fifi.

Wow! I have a whole lot more friends than the British One and Softie.

But then, I'm a lot better looking than either of those two.

Cat of the Week!

I just found out that I have been chosen as Cat of the Week!

I am greatly honoured to be named Cat of the Week. I do hereby resolve to:

1. Do my best to behave in the appropriate Gentleman Cat way
2. Eat lots of delicious diced chicken
3. Nap joyously
4. Groom myself heartily
5. Eat lots of delicious diced chicken
6. Strut around the house looking very regal and handsome
7. Answer all my Catster mail
8. Eat lots of delicious diced chicken

I'd also like to say a warm hello to my newest friends Emmy, Dexter, Lexie, Paris, Hal, Noelle, Gazelle, Cecelia, Mary Magdalena and Annie. I am honoured to call you friends. Also I'd like to give a shout-out to Keiser and Milo, who emailed me with fond congratulations. I am honoured and humbled. Well, as humble as such a handsome lad such as myself can be.

Now if I can just get the British One and Softie to celebrate this glorious occasion with me by plying me with delicious diced chicken and strawberry yogurt, and letting me go outside to sun myself whenever I demand it.

Soggy Gray Days

I'm getting depressed.

It rains and rains and rains, which means I cannot go outside. I want more than anything to go outside and roll in the grass and race around the garden in the sunlight. I want it even more than I want entry into the Magic Portal.

I demanded to go outside yesterday, but both the British One and Softie told me "NO!" I demanded it again, and again was told "NO!"

So I demanded it again. I didn't care that it was raining. And I went into the kitchen and pawed at the doorknob, to make myself very clear. In between laughs, both of them again told me "NO!"

I don't like being laughed at. And I don't like being told "NO!"

So I left them a little gift on the stairs, for which they were not happy. I think it got my point across though. Softie cleaned up the mess and said "Nick Outside NO!" to me several times. I think she got her point across too.

So instead of getting to go outside, I spent most of the day napping on the bed.

Delicious Desserts

I got a delicious new treat yesterday--it is called Strawberry Swirl Yogurt. The British One was attempting to eat a small pot of it yesterday but I smelled the strawberries and knew I MUST have some of it.

Softie and the British One have treated me to strawberry frozen yogurt before, but this was different. It was very smooth and creamy, and not as cold as the frozen stuff. As soon as I saw the little plastic pot in his hands, I knew the British One would have to share. He knew it too. In fact, I didn't let him forget to share, because with each bite he took I climbed all over him, trying to get to the spoon.

Eventually he gave up and fed the rest of it to me. I licked each delicious spoonful until the yogurt pot was empty. I cleaned the spoon and even tried to get my head inside the pot, but it wouldn't fit.

I hope there is more in the big cold foodbox, because strawberry swirl yogurt is my new favorite treat.

Oh Happy Day!

Today was even better than yesterday! The British One took me outside for awhile and I got to sniff the fresh, clean air while flopping around in the grass.

Then Softie came home early and they both went outside with me. I explored the entire back garden, minus the narrow pathway between the garage and fence, which the British One has somehow walled off. I tried to suss out a way to climb over the barrier, but I'll have to ponder it a bit more before attempting anything.

The garage has been off limits to me for some reason, and I decided to try to find out why. I attempted to climb the garage wall to peer inside the windows, but the walls aren't as easy to maneuver as I thought. The pair of them realized that I wanted to see inside the garage though, because Softie went inside the house and came back with a set of keys. I gingerly stepped into the darkened garage and had myself a good nose around. Softie has a new metal monster, which I had to jump up on--just to prove I still could. Then I had to sniff around on her scooter, which smelled of other cats. I hadn't seen the scooter in a long time, so I think she had it stored somewhere besides our old house. It smelled very similar to the workbench in the magic portal, which is to say they both smell a lot like the old lady's barn where I was born.

I soon tired of the garage--it was just too pretty to be stuck inside a building! So I raced back outside and zoomed around the perimeter of the back garden several times, then took a running jump to the garage window. Unfortunately I failed and fell into a flowerbed. The British One and Softie laughed quite a lot. My pride was injured until the British One scooped me up and placed me onto the garage window sill. From there I could peer inside to see the view, and had a good vantage point for the garden. I think this may become one of my favorite places to sit when I am outside. I just need to figure out how to climb up there without help.

All too soon it was over. Softie asked me if I was hungry, and if I wanted some delicious diced chicken. Naturally I had to come back inside and have a nice feast--but not before I chewed a bit of grass and raced around the garden in the sunlight once more.

Spring is in the air

Today has been quite glorious. The British One and I went outside and enjoyed the sun and fresh air.

All was well until I saw a strange man several houses away. He was carrying lots of cartons from the house to his garage. I don't know him, so he worried me. I didn't want the British One to know I was afraid, but somehow I think he knew when I scurried back up the steps and into the kitchen door.

He sat on the back porch steps and beckoned me back outside, telling me the neighbor wouldn't hurt me. How did he know that?! The man might have wanted to steal me away--I'm very handsome, afterall.

I stuck my head outside the kitchen door and sniffed the air, watching the strange man walk from house to garage and back again. He took no notice of me, but it could have been a ploy to strip me of my guard. I warily ventured back down the steps and into the back garden, but by then the British One had decided that it was time to go back inside.

How rude! I'd only just gotten my courage up.

So when the British One scooped me up to bring me back indoors, I struggled a little and let him know I wasn't happy. I wanted to stay outside.

But only if he was outside with me.

And only if he kept the kitchen door propped open.

Just in case.

Sunny Morning

I am reminded this morning of the first time I saw a hummingbird. It was at our old house, many years ago.

It was a gorgeous sunny morning, just like today. Softie had kept the bedroom window open overnight (she called it "good sleeping weather") and I spent most of the night and early morning dozing against the windowscreen.

Softie was still asleep and I had been gazing at her from above, trying intently to wake her up with my staring powers. It was nearly breakfast time, afterall. As I sat staring I heard a strange buzzing noise. It was a noise I had never heard before. I peered out the screen to see a tiny, odd looking bird hovering outside the window. It had a very long beak, and had taken a shine to the windowbox flowers. I couldn't take my eyes from it. Such a strange looking creature! The buzzing sound it made seemed to be from it's wings, which flapped so rapidly that they were merely a blur.

As quickly as it had appeared, it darted away. I looked round at Softie, who was now laying there with her eyes open, looking at me. I gave her a questioning look--wide eyes and whiskers pointing straight downward. She laughed at me!

She really laughed too--big belly laughs. She said, between giggles, "That was a hummingbird, kittyboy. Oh you should see the look on your face!" and then she laughed some more.

My pride was injured. I do not like to be laughed at. I leapt from the windowsill and landed squarely on Softie's tummy, which made her utter "ooof!" and then I raced out the bedroom door and down the hall to the lounge. I ignored her for the rest of the day.

I wonder when the good sleeping weather will return? I want to doze in open windows and look for hummingbirds again.

Congrats to my Friends

Two of my kitty friends are Catster Daily Diary Picks today!

Congratulations and large purrs to Keiser and Explorer Neil Kitty.

I'm a Happy Boy!

The British One was home with me all day yesterday!

First I helped him unpack the rest of the suitcases. He opened it up on the floor and began removing clothing, DVDs, magazines and smelly things from Lush for Softie. I jumped inside the case and walked around, then sat down and watched him.

After that I got a second helping of delicious diced chicken. He went into the office and began to peck away on the keyboard while staring intently into the glowing box. I climbed up into his lap and fell asleep.

Later, Softie came home and they had dinner. I got a third helping of delicious diced chicken, but the British One was having Cod and that smelled much more delicious to me. He wouldn't let me have any though, no matter how close I sat to him, staring.

Their friends Christian and Michelle turned up after dinner and they sat around talking, so I tested out Christian's lap, then Michelle's. I like them both, but when Michelle picked me up and carried me around I fell in love with her. She also gave me such a good chin scratching that it made my whiskers curl up in front of my nose.

After they left we went to the beddie-bye basket, and I fell asleep between Softie and the British One, very happy and content.

A Very Fine Day Indeed

Yesterday was a very fine day indeed.

First, I found out I was again chosen as a Catster Diary Daily Pick! It is quite an honour to be chosen. I was very pleased with myself and strutted all over the house with my tail in the air and my head held high.

Adding to the celebrations, the British One came home as well! I was chuffed to see him hauling his suitcase up the sidewalk. I wanted to run out and greet him, but Softie held me firmly away from the door. He came in and made a fuss over me, which of course meant that I should pretend to be indifferent to him for a little while. Which I did. For about ten minutes.

He scooped me up and carried me around (which I love), telling me how much he had missed me. I noticed, however, that there were no treats for me in the suitcase. He gave goodies to Softie, and pulled out other things for other humans, but nothing for me. I guess it's okay though, because now I will again have an extra helping of delicious diced chicken during the day, which is better than any treat from a suitcase.

The British One was very tired from his journey, so everyone went to the beddie-bye basket early. I was so content that I fell asleep, sprawled out across Softie's legs.

This morning Softie told the me I had been snoring, but I don't believe it.

A Day of Adventures

Yesterday was adventure day. Softie slept past her normal waking time, so I sat up on the bed and stared at her until she opened her eyes. Once she was awake I told her about my breakfast fantasies and she obliged by preparing some delicious diced chicken for me. Of course, she had to ruin everything by putting those drops in my eyes, but they really don’t bother me that much. I only pretended to struggle.

The day was warm and sunny, so Softie took me outside and let me roam around the garden while she cleaned the windows. She kept a keen eye on me, but I still managed to sneak away long enough to discover a narrow path between the fence and garage. I hadn’t been in there very long when Softie came looking for me, and from the tone of her voice she wasn’t very happy. She kept telling me to come out, but I was enjoying myself too much. There were new smells to sniff and places to explore. I ignored her.

She continued to order me to come out, but that just made me want to do more exploring. If a place is that much off limits, it must be interesting.

Then I heard a noise. It sounded like large sniffs and snorts. Next thing I knew, there were big barks coming from the other side of the fence. I couldn’t see it, but I didn’t need to. It sounded big and ugly. I panicked a little and Softie scooped me up as I made a dash for the house. She carried me back to the house, telling me “bad kitties don’t get to go outside” as she cleaned the dirt from my feet. I don’t like to have my feet touched, so I growled a little.

I was unceremoniously dumped back inside the house, where I had to stay for the rest of the day. The joke was on Softie though, because I’d had enough adventure for the day.

All I wanted was a good nap in the Poang.

Contentment is Mine

After the depressing week of being alone all day and only getting to curl up in Softie's lap for an hour or so at night, yesterday took a turn for the better. Softie stayed home and made a fuss over me all day!

She donned all her ugly clothes again and put more of that orange, vile smelling goop on the door. I kept trying to help her with it, but she shooed me away--which I have to admit did not set well with me. To show my disapproval, I raced all around the dining room and lounge, then collapsed in the foyer to groom myself heartily.

A bit later the British One phoned and Softie let me listen to his voice. I purred and rubbed my face all over the phone. I hope he comes home soon.

In between phonecalls and coats of vile orange goo, Softie sat on the sofa reading, and I climbed into her lap for a bit of kip. She also fed me extra helpings of delicious diced chicken.

It was as close to bliss as a kitty can get.

More on The Great Outdoors

Sometimes I suspect Softie and the British One can read my thoughts.

Take yesterday, for instance. I was bored out of my furry head yesterday. It was so pretty outside, and I was stuck inside the house, alone.

But when Softie came home yesterday she let me go outside with her! How did she know I was longing to go outdoors?!

It was glorious too! I ventured outside the kitchen door and down some steps to the grass, where I stopped to sniff the air. Then I trotted down the path to the garage and fence, with Softie following behind me. I didn't want her to snatch me up and bring me back inside, so I trotted a little faster to the end of the garden. Suddenly I heard something. I don't know what it was. It might have been a metal monster, or someone shutting a door, or possibly it was the wind whistling through tree branches. But it was a NOISE-- a noise I was unfamiliar with!

I had to dash back to the steps and wait for Softie to catch up with me and let me back inside the house.

Bored

It's very sunny outside today, and I am getting restless.

I want to go outside!

Instead, I am stuck inside this big old house, all by myself. I've spent a good part of today sitting on the arm of the sofa, watching the world through the front window.

In Like a Lion

This house makes lots of strange noises when it is windy. I felt it was my catly duty to protect Softie from the strange noises, so when we went to the beddie-bye basket last night, I curled up in the crook of her arm and made sure she was safe.

Of course she still left me alone this morning. Left me to listen to all the strange sounds and spooky noises. I decided to combat it by popping in some music. I found a mix that Softie had made for her friends Haz & Paulie, when they adopted their kitties Vic & Bob. This is the track listing:

1000 Clowns - "Kitty Kat Max"
Presidents of the USA - "Kitty"
King Kong - "Bad Cat Blues"
Danielle Dax - "Cat House"
Paul 'Wine' Jones - "Kittycat"
Brian Setzer Orchestra - "This Cat's On a Hot Tin Roof"
King Missile - "How To Remember Your Dreams"
The Cramps - "Can Your Pussy Do The Dog?"
The Jazz Butcher - "Domestic Animal"
The Shoes - "Curiosity"
Norma Tanga - "Walkin' My Cat Named Dog"
Squeeze - "Cool For Cats"
The Ass Ponys - "Kitten"
The Cure - "Love Cats"
Dee-Lite - "Pussycat Meow"
Tom Jones - "What's New Pussycat?"
The Stray Cats - "Stray Cat Strut"

Hopefully it is enough to drown out the blustery day.

The Cat Krazies

I felt years younger yesterday and managed to get Softie to play hide'n'seek with me. She had been trying to hang some new curtains in the dining room, and I thought she needed a break. I let out a very vocal, gutteral meow and then raced all around the dining room and kitchen.

She didn't know what to think! She climbed down from the ladder and came into the kitchen to see what I was up to...and I jumped out from behind a cabinet and raced around some more. We did this for a little while and then it was her turn to try to hide from me. She put the ladder away and I chased her up and down the stairs.

Then she said she was going to do some laundry, so I bolted through the Magic Portal and tried to help her sort the clothing. And for old time's sake, I leapt into the laundry basket and playfully nipped at her fingers.

She said I had "the Midnight Cat Krazies" but I don't think she knows how to tell time. It was much earlier than that.

The Lonely House

Now that the British One is away, this house is very quiet and lonely during the day. Softie goes away in the metal monster early each morning, and does not return until late. Now that the British One isn't here to keep me company, feed me an extra helping of delicious diced chicken, and to provide a warm lap when I need it, I'm feeling very sad indeed.

I've tried to give Softie the ole "forlorn kitty" look each morning as she leaves, but so far it hasn't worked. She still leaves, even if she does try to coddle me with good chin scratches and kind words before she goes. I've taken to not diving into my delicious diced chicken when she serves it to me either. I had hoped that she would realize that I am depressed being alone all day (depressed enough to stop eating my delicious diced chicken!) and would stop leaving. It hasn't worked.

After she leaves, I dash to the kitchen and eat my delicious diced chicken--before it gets too cold. Then I sit on the mat in the kitchen by the door and brood for awhile. When it is clear she has not been made to feel guilty enough to come back into the house and stay with me, I climb into the Poang for a bit of kip. Later I go back to the kitchen to finish off any leftover morsels of delicious diced chicken, and to nibble around on the organic dry food she serves in lieu of my extra helping of delicious diced chicken that the British One serves during the day when he is here. Then it is time to climb the stairs and sleep on their bed. I still find myself looking toward the office, hoping the British One will be sitting there, staring at the glowing box and pecking furiously on his keyboard.

I sure wish he was coming back soon.

Suitcase Full of Blues, part 2

I really don't like suitcases.

There are several of them in my house. They live in the closet. Every now and then, one or more of them escapes from the closet and plants itself on the bed or floor of the guest room. It is fed clothing and other assorted items, and then it somehow convinces the British One and/or Softie to take it away and not come back for a long time.

My biggest worry is when all the suitcases escape, because I know this means both the British One and Softie are leaving me. When we lived in my old house, this also meant the old lady would come to visit me several times a day to feed me and give me a good brushing. Now that we live in this new house, I wonder if the old lady will still come to visit?

Luckily for me, not all the suitcases escaped this time around. The ones that did escape managed to convince the British One to take them somewhere. After many hugs and good chin scratches, he said "goodbye" to me and left with the suitcases.

I'm keeping a watchful eye on the suitcases that did not escape. They are still in the closet, and I intend to see that they remain that way. I don't want them giving Softie any ideas.

Suitcase Full of Blues

The British One saw one of the suitcases today, and it convinced him to began putting things into it.

I know what this means.

And I don't like it one bit.

An Uneasy Start to My Day

Softie and the British One seem to be feeling better today, no doubt due to the excellent care and attention I've given them the past few days.

And how do they repay me? By taking me to a new vet today. How's THAT for gratitude? I may never tend to them when they are ill again!

So this new vet. He wasn't so bad really, and the trip in the dreaded metal monster was very short indeed. In fact, I suspect we could walk to the new vet--but I'm not going to suggest it to them.

The new vet didn't prod and poke at me, and there was nothing put in my bum to take my temperature. For this, I already like him a lot better than my old vet. He also talked to Softie and the British One about my diet, and actually urged them to continue to ply me with delicious diced chicken, because he said my weight was up from what it used to be. I don't know how he could know this, because he's never seen me before, but he did have a massive amount of papers he kept referring to. He looked at my teeth, and checked my heart and thyroid and said everything checked out okay. He was friendly too, and laid back. Did I happen to mention that he URGED THEM TO CONTINUE TO PLY ME WITH DELICIOUS DICED CHICKEN?

Plus I noticed he wears hippie sandals, so if he ever starts recommending hospital food and I decide that I don't like him anymore, I can always attack his ankles and bite his toes.

A Nice Lazy Day

Softie and the British One are both feeling under the weather. The British One still went about his normal routine of sitting in front of the glowing box, pecking away at the keyboard. Softie, however, didn't leave in the metal monster like she normally does.

She stayed in bed nearly all day. I felt it was my catly duty to curl up in the crook of her arm and try to make her feel better,which I believe I achieved.

Honors Bestowed

I've just found out that my diary has been chosen as a Catster "Daily Diary Pick!"

I am humbled by this wonderful honour.

The Great Outdoors

The British One took me outside yesterday!

I'm really pleased that I got to go outside because I am getting a little stir crazy being cooped up in the house all the time. It's a much larger house than our old one, but at least with my old house I got to go outside nearly every day and sun myself on the deck.

I miss my deck. I loved dozing on the loungers and watching the wrens and robins take baths in the nearby birdbath. I miss being able to hide amongst the hedges, and I miss the scent of the lavender and sage in the breeze.

I don't miss the little yapper-dog who lived next door though.

Something Smells-- And it's not my Litterbox!

The British One has been in the office for most of the day, fiddling around with his older model glowing box thingie. I think it is called a "lapbox." I tried to help him with it, but he kept getting frustrated and raising his voice, which after awhile I got tired of. I took a nice long nap on the bed.

I was awakened by a strange smell in the house and naturally my curiosity got the best of me and I went to investigate.

Softie was in the dining room with a tin of nasty smelling orange gel, painting it all over the surface of the door to the kitchen. This door slides into the wall when not in use, and when the humans want to keep me away from the kitchen they pull it out. I've never seen doors like this before. We didn't have them in my other house, but this house has several sets of them.

Anyway, I tried to help her with the smelly task but she kept shooing me away. She was dressed ridiculously too--gloves, big plastic goggles and a mask over her nose and mouth. After she had finished putting the gel on the door I followed her into the magic portal, where she rinsed the brushes and I said "hello" to the washer and dryer as I made my rounds.

Later, after a second helping of delicious diced chicken, Softie donned all the ridiculous stuff again and took a plastic scraper thingie to the door. I sat on the sofa in the lounge, watching her. As she scraped the colour fell from the door, revealing very gorgeous looking blond wood. She scraped for a long time, and I had to be shooed away from her work area at least a dozen times. I was only trying to help!

Photogenic Me!

I wondered why Softie and the British One came home with a catnip scented scratching post last night. Not that I minded—I love catnip! For several weeks now the both of them have been calling me “Clickfoot” because my nails are getting a bit long. I don’t have anywhere to scratch (and I’ve never been one to use furniture) and I can’t go outside yet because it is too cold. They told me this is why they brought the scratching post home. The catnip scent took hold of me and I rubbed all over the thing, despite myself. Eventually I even scratched around on it a little, although it was more for show than anything. I had to let them know I liked my new gift.

I knew, however, there had to be an ulterior motive. I was right.

This morning, after I had dulled down my claws, I was unceremoniously stuffed into the Pet Taxi and taken to the evil eye doctor. I made some noises to let them know I wasn’t happy, but it was no use so I eventually settled down and went into Zen-kitty mode.

The evil eye vet poked around on my eyes again, but this time it didn’t hurt me. If I would have wanted to use my claws on him I couldn’t because I had dulled them down, but he didn’t hurt me so it was okay. He told Softie that the drops she’s been putting in my eyes (I get FIVE drops every day) are working. He said the pressure behind my eye has gone down from 51 to 24, which he says is in the “comfortable range.” I certainly feel better and my eye doesn’t hurt like it used to. I’ve got my appetite back and my coat looks nice and glossy again. Because I am a very handsome boy, the evil eye vet took several pictures of me. He seemed especially interested in my right eye.

I just wish I knew what he meant by “melanoma.”

The Noise Continues

Over the weekend a strange man came to my house and walked around on the roof. He made a lot of noise and spooked me a little bit, but Softie let me lay on her lap so I wasn’t afraid anymore. She told me he was fixing our guttering, whatever that means.

Then yesterday this same man came over and started working in the bathroom. The British One and Softie had removed the wallpaper from the bathroom a few weeks ago and half of the ceiling came crashing down on them! So this strange man was here yesterday, patching the hole and covering the cracks. We live in a very old house. Everything seems to be falling apart!

So while the strange man was working in the bathroom, he was very un-catlike and lost his balance. He fell off the ladder and landed on the sink, which broke with a very loud crash. I ran under the bed and hid for a long time. The strange man was alright, bruised up a bit and sore, but no broken bones.

I overheard the British One tell Softie that he was coming back again today and that there would be a lot of noise and dust. I think I’ll try napping in a different wing of the house today.

Loud, Scary Noises!

Just now I was happily dozing on the sofa while Softie watched figure skating and the British One talked to an overseas friend on the phone.

Then there was a very loud crash in the kitchen! I jumped off the sofa and ran behind it to hide.

Softie and the British One ran into the kitchen and discovered that a picture had fallen off the wall and shattered all over the floor. I tried to get into the kitchen to see what was going on but they made me stay out and shut the door in my face. How rude!

Now all the excitement is over so I went in to see what the fuss was. Apparently their Bob Marley framed print took a fall--all over my dinner! The frame smashed down right on top of my food dishes, with glass and diced chicken everywhere!

But I'm okay, and they are okay, and they cleaned everything up and fed me a new serving of diced chicken.

Super

The British One was up bright and early this morning to listen to a football match involving his favorite team. He always listens to the matches using the glowing box in the office, and today he yelled at it quite a bit. Softie was downstairs in the lounge reading, so I retreated to her lap while the British One yelled upstairs.

Then the British One came downstairs and announced that the match was going to be televised later in the day, so the three of us watched it from the sofa. I like watching the game because all the players run around a lot and kick a ball, which I can relate to. They cheered for the team with the red and white striped shirts.

Later in the day the British One took me outside for the first time since we moved. I can hardly wait to go outside again when the weather gets warmer. I still miss the deck at my other house though. I wonder what happened to that house?

Softie has been watching something called "figure skating" this evening. The two of them keep getting phonecalls from friends asking why they are not watching something called a superbowl.

I don't know why anyone would want to sit and watch a bowl, unless of course it had delicious diced chicken in it. That would be super!

Obsession

Everytime the door opens I know about it. Everytime the door opens I leg it as fast as I can inside. The British One and Softie are just going to have to get used to the idea that any time the door to the Magic Portal is opened, I will be right there under their feet.

The reason they do not want me inside the Magic Portal is simple. They don't like it when I have any fun. They don't want to stimulate my senses with new and interesting places.

Too late.

Now that I know the secret to the Magic Portal, I shall trot myself down the stairs every chance I get. Normally when I get down the stairs the first place I want to go is the far room. It's where the washer and dryer are. I say "hello" to them and then walk the perimeter of the room, pausing to sniff the table saw (which smells like the barn I knew as a tiny kitten) and the workbench along the back wall. The workbench used to be in the garage at my old house, now it is inside the Magic Portal.

After I've made my rounds in the far room, I like to check out the main room. It's got lots of boxes lined up along one wall, and a long row of shelving along the other. There is a boiler in this room as well, but I tend to stay away from it. By the time I've finished checking this room it's time to go back into the far room and say "hello" to the washer and dryer again.

I did this several times over the weekend. Softie was doing some laundry and each time she made a trip downstairs, I slipped down with her. I just wish I could get down there without her or the British One supervising my every move!

I think the stairs going back up to the main floor are a little bit difficult to maneuver, but if either Softie or the British One suspects that I struggle with the stairs I fear they would not let me venture back inside the Magic Portal ever again. So I keep up appearances as best I can. I climb back up the stairs and have a quick bite to eat, then relax in the Poang to rest my weary legs.

The Magic Portal Revealed!

Well, well, well. I am a very clever kittyboy. I have discovered the secret of the Magic Portal.

It’s something called a “basement.”

The British One was cleaning out my box today and I noticed that he had accidentally left open the door to the Magic Portal. While he had his back turned I quietly slipped inside to have a look around. He and Softie are not very bright, because they had put the dreaded vacuum cleaner inside the door of the Magic Portal, no doubt thinking it would keep me well away. It didn’t. Silly humans, don’t they know that the only time I dislike the vacuum cleaner is when it is being noisy?

Anyway, I got inside the Magic Portal and discovered a set of steps going down into the ground. I followed them and found another entire floor underneath the two I already knew about. This floor is under the ground and is very large. I found the washer and dryer (I was wondering where they had gone to), another bathroom, lots of boxes and lots of tools. There were all sorts of lovely nooks to explore and loads of places to hide. A kitty paradise!

Unfortunately it was over all too quickly. The British One discovered his mistake and came to fetch me. Darn it! I’m miffed that the pair of them has kept this glorious place secret.

I must go back inside the Magic Portal again.

The Magic Portal Mystery

There is a Magic Portal in my new house. I’m not too sure of how it works, but I know it is off limits to me. Naturally, anything off limits to me drives me nuts. I MUST gain access to the Magic Portal!

The door is in the kitchen, near my placemat and dishes. I’ve been able to steal a quick peek inside, but there wasn’t enough time to have a good look. Here’s what I know about the Magic Portal:

1. It is off limits to me
2. The British One uses it a lot to disappear for hours at a time
3. When the British One disappears, I hear things banging around under the floor
4. The British One can reappear out of nowhere
5. The Magic Portal looks a bit like a hallway with doors at either end.

As I was eating this morning, I saw the British One go into the Magic Portal in the kitchen. I was finishing up my breakfast when the British One reappeared out of thin air. He walked into the kitchen from a different door—not the Magic Portal. How did he do that?

Another time I saw the British One outside in the back garden. He went inside some doors in the ground and then the next thing I knew he was walking through the Magic Portal into the kitchen.

I’ve GOT to find out more about this Magic Portal. I wish just once the two of them would forget to close the door so that I could have a stroll inside.

Curiosity

Earlier this evening Softie sat in the office staring at the glowing box, crying. She saw me sitting in the hallway, eyeing her, and realized that she hadn't fed me. She asked if I was hungry and I told her "yes, of course!"

She went downstairs to fix more delicious diced chicken from the big cold foodbox and I decided to have a quick peek at the glowing box to see why she had been crying.

Softie used to work for a great independent radio station called WOXY. Every Saturday morning she would wake up VERY early in the morning and drive the metal monster to the radio station. I would see her off, sitting in the front window until her tail lights faded away, then go back to the bedroom to wait for the British One to wake up. He'd get up a little later, turn on the radio and we'd listen to Softie together.

I loved lounging in the Poang, listening to her. She played a lot of good music and every so often, she would dedicate a song to me. It made me very happy to hear my name coming out of that funny little radio.

I discovered that what Softie had been looking at was a video clip that her friend the Music Director sent to her. It was a video of the station being razed to the ground by a bulldozer.

I wonder if that is what will happen to our old house?

Does My Tail Look Big in This?

After seventeen years, I think I have finally got Softie and the British One trained.

For the past week, I’ve feasted on succulent, hot, diced chicken from the big, cold food box. Normally the pair of them alternate the diced chicken with tins of food, but suddenly last week they wised up and started serving me diced chicken for each meal. It’s about time!

I gobble up every delicious morsel and then a few hours later, if I am clever enough to successfully mind-meld with one of them, they give it to me again. I’ve got the British One so wrapped around my paw that he fixes up an extra serving for me for lunch! Three portions of delicious chicken a day! I am finally eating like the royalty I am.

Softie picked me up last night and commented that I was “finally starting to fatten up.” For a long time she’s told me I am too skinny and boney. I heard her tell the British One that she couldn’t feel my boney spine anymore and that I look healthier and better.

I’d have fattened up a lot sooner if those two goofs would have been feeding me diced chicken for every meal!

I’ve only been trying to tell them for the last seventeen years…

I'm Gaining Weight!

I think I am gaining weight. The British One and Softie continue to ply me with delicious diced chicken and I continue to gobble it up.

Last night I was attacked with the scissors again, but Softie gave me a good brushing in the process so it was okay.

I'm a very handsome boy!

Another Day, Another Vet Visit

I should have known something was up. Softie didn't leave early this morning and the British One stayed in bed with her. Then they didn't get up and feed me at my normal time.

I should have known.

Later in the morning the British One appeared with the dreaded Pet Taxi, and Softie, who had been carrying me around, stuffed me inside. I cried a little bit just to let them know I wasn't happy. I whimpered to register my complaint. They took no notice. Into the metal monster we went, with the British One driving and the Taxi sitting on Softie's lap.

I surprised myself though. I didn't drool and pant like I have done in the past. I told myself I could handle the ride, and I did! I became Zen-Kitty.

Presently we arrived at Dr.K's office, where a horrible Pekingese yapped at me and made a nuisance of himself. He growled and snarled at everyone in the room, and as I was the only cat in a roomful of humans with dogs, he focused much of his bile and hatred at me. I couldn't help but tease him by sticking my paw outside the Taxi and waving to him. Made him go mental!

Dr.K specializes in animal eyes. He put drops in my eyes and poked around at them, which I didn't like and let him know about it with a couple of swipes of the claw. Softie had to hold me back, because I really wanted to tear into him. He recommended MORE drops for me. The bad, evil man!

The humans actually AGREED with Dr.K about a return visit next month. They think I don't understand what they say, but I certainly do. And I know they have scheduled another appointment with this horrible vet.

I'm starting to sharpen my claws now...in anticipation.

Happy Mew Year!

Softie and the British One invited a few friends over to celebrate something called New Years Eve. I was quite pleased to find it a low-key event, and decided early on that their friend Lauren would have the best lap (which she did). I sensed that she loves kitties very much, and to my delight she told me that my friend the Baron Von Stinkerton lives with her.

At midnight there was a lot of ruckus in my new neighborhood. People were running around on their front lawns and into the street, yelling and banging on pots and pans. Some of the children blew whistles and had noisemakers. There were fireworks. It frightened me somewhat, but the night was so mild that Softie picked me up and took me outside for a little bit. I'm glad too, because it's been a long time since I got to go outside. I miss my old house where I could go out onto the deck as I pleased.

For New Year's Day I got a most delicious feast of diced chicken made in the beeping box, so it was nice and hot. Softie and the British One always make sure the chicken has cooled down enough for me, and they even cut it into tiny little bites because sometimes my teeth give me a bit of trouble. I don't want them to know my teeth give me trouble though, because last time I had to go to a dentist it was just aweful. I fell asleep and woke up with a very sore mouth and staggered around all evening. It was like I'd had that kitty valium or something.

So anyway I'm trying to keep my sore tooth on the down-low but am ever so grateful that they chop the chicken up into tiny bite-sized morsels.

I hope Softie sits on the sofa today and reads me some Krazy Kat comics. It would be a perfect start to this new year business.

The Longest Day in the World

Yesterday was the longest day in the world. The old lady came to my house and served me a dish of Savory Duck from the magic cupboard for breakfast, and then I slept in Softie's office chair.

Softie and the old lady turned up a little later and eye drops were administered--which I hate. Then they started boxing up food from the magic cupboard, the big cold foodbox and the kitchen drawers. During all this I noticed Softie crushing up a tiny white pill....which came from a small brown bottle. I am pretty sure the label read "kitty valium" and it came from Dr.R, but I didn't know what kitty valium was....but I do now.

Softie mixed the powder with some water and before I knew it, the mixture had been squirted down my throat. It didn't taste bad like the horrible meds from the big cold foodbox taste, but it wasn't very pleasant either.

Oddly, my feet stopped working properly and then I felt very woozy. Softie carried me around and it was most enjoyable. After a while I was having difficulty walking, so Softie kindly put me into the dreaded Pet-Taxi. I didn't even realize it. I curled up on the towel inside and stuck a paw out the door and waved to the old lady, who waved back. They proceded to box up more stuff and take it outside, then Softie took me outside and loaded me into the metal monster. I

t was the longest ride I have ever known. We must have been in the metal monster forever! Funny, I wasn't afraid of the metal monster this time. I didn't get sick and I didn't drool all over myself! Softie hooked up her iPod and the two of us sang a lot of songs on the way. She really cannot sing.

Eventually we arrived somewhere and I was freed from the dreaded Pet-Taxi. I'm still not sure where we are, but Softie and the British One keep telling me it is my new home. It has hardwood floors, massive windows and almost all our stuff inside. I set about familiarizing myself with this new place. I wandered from the kitchen to the dining room to the large lounge to something called a foyer, and back again. I studied the location of my litterbox and counted the paces from each room to the box. Then I did the same for my food dishes.

Then Softie located my blankie and sat down on the sofa, and I curled up in her lap, just like old times. I had a nice little nap, but then I saw the British One appear out of nowhere. I was puzzled and mystified. I had to find out where he had been.

There is an entire second floor to this house! I climbed up the stairs and discovered a bunch of rooms, another litterbox and a bathroom! I found our beddie-bye basket and dresser and more of our stuff! Amazing!

When the British One and Softie went to the beddiebye basket, they kindly put my little stepstool at the foot of the bed. I climbed up onto the bed and curled up between them, just like old times.

I wonder when we are going home?

What's Going On??

Lots of strange things happened today, and I don't like any of them.

The British One and Softie's friend Christian came over last night with a very large, noisy orange truck. Then he spent the night.

Bright and early this morning the three of them were up loading our belongings into the orange truck. Then more people came over and put stuff into the truck. Almost everything went into the truck except me! They also left behind Softie's office chair (which I sat on and wouldn't let anyone take away) and the chair in the lounge that I like to sleep on. The British One calls the chair a "Po-ang." Softie also left my favorite blankie draped over the Po-ang.

Now they have left me alone and I'm not sure what to do. The old lady came over a little while ago and gave me food, but I don't know where the British One and Softie are. They've been gone all day and it's getting late.

What if they don't love me anymore? What if they have left me behind? What if I never see them again?!

Who's going to clip my nappy dreads? Who will feed me? Who will let me sleep on top of them when the weather turns cold?

I wish I knew what is happening.

Just Too Many Boxes

The house has begun to echo.

The packing continues.

Where is all our stuff going?

Why are there only a few tins of food in my magic cupboard?

Too Much Upheavel

The British One has spent the entire day putting things into boxes. He has removed all the pictures from the walls and has taken down the shelving. I followed him around demanding to know what is going on, but it was fruitless.

When Softie got home she also began putting things into boxes. All the stuff from the shelves went into boxes. I sat on the kitchen floor behind her, watching. I thought if I sat there looking regal and fluffy she would not be able to resist letting me in on the secret of the boxes.....and I was right!

She swooped me up into her arms and carried me around--which I adore--and told me all about a new house. She says it will be our new house. She said it has big windows and lots of nooks for me to explore.

But what if I don't want a new house? What is wrong with my house? I don't see as well as I used to--how will I find my way around someplace new? What if I can't sun myself on the deck anymore?!

It's all quite worrying to a little handsome lad such as myself.

Suspicious Minds

It was a beautiful, brisk day and after a delicious breakfast of diced chicken from the big, cold foodbox I spent the morning sunning myself on the deck. I didn't even have to remind Softie to open the door!

I got suspicious, however, because as soon as I walked out the door the pair of them were busy cleaning and tidying the house. I had a feeling they'd be taking me out to visit the old lady again, and sure enough they did. They kept speaking of something called an "open house." I don't understand why they open up our house to strangers while they aren't even there! I don't understand why they don't leave me there to keep an eye on things. Who knows what strangers might do to our house when I'm not there to protect it!

So instead of protecting my house, Softie stuffed me into the horrible pet-taxi and the British One carried me several houses away to the old lady's house. Softie showed up in the metal monster a little while later. I hate the metal monster. Everytime I've ever been inside its belly I'm jostled around and end up being very sick. I don't even like to look at it when I'm in the garage, but it's good to hide beneath when I don't want to be found.

After I was let out of the pet-taxi at the old lady's house, I realized that the tiny human was there. The tiny human is somehow related to Softie, the British One and the old lady. He greeted me and I was surprised to find that he can speak a little Meow. Meow is not the easiest language to learn, but somehow this pint-sized human could hold a decent conversation with me. Odd.

The parents of the tiny human came by and everyone went outside. I sat in the window and watched them, and watched several fellow felines walking around with them. I recognized one of them--a cat called Kirk. Kirk has followed Softie to our house before. I don't think I like Kirk very much.

Several hours later I was unceremoniously stuffed back into the pet-taxi and carried home by the British One. It was all a bit much for me.

I need a lap.

Softie's Tears

Yesterday evening I took a snooze on Softie's lap and let her use the scissors on me. I was just too worn out to put up a fight, and besides, after she clipped and brushed me I felt very silky and slick, so it was worth the trouble she put me through. To top it off, she didn't administer my meds last night!

I happily curled up next to her in the beddie-bye basket and fell into a deep sleep. Sometime in the night, however, the cramps hit me. I tried to make it to my litterbox, I really did. Unfortunately I only managed to get as far as the bedroom door before I had a bout of violent diarrhea. I knew I would get into trouble for it, so I did what I had to do, which was hide behind the sofa in the lounge.

At 5 o'clock in the morning I heard the British One get up to go to the bathroom and I guess he must have stepped in my mess, because he started yelling for Softie. It would have been amusing to witness, I'm sure!

Softie got out of bed and together they cleaned up my little mistake. I swear I didn't mean to do it, I just can't hold it in like I used to. Neither of them yelled at me about it though, which was good.

But they both cried. And that made me feel worse than if they had yelled at me. I don't like seeing my humans cry.

I've Got The Turkey Blues

Apparently there is no more turkey.

Why does this glorious event only happen once a year?

In other news, the humans are being cagey. They keep referring to "the new house" and Softie has been trying to polish a bunch of old, ornate doorknobs in the evenings. This does not leave her lap free for me to lay on, which is upsetting. I sulked all last night and didn't sleep with them.

This morning the British One actually laughed when he found me hiding under the desk in Softie's chair. I don't like being laughed at.

I might have to take a crap in someone's shoes.

Meowy Christmas!

What a strange few days it has been. Normally Softie goes out each morning and gets into the big metal monster and goes someplace. The British One sits in the office and pecks furiously at a keyboard (that I am not supposed to walk on, but I do anyway) while staring intently into a glowing box.

Not so this past week.

On Tuesday evening when Softie got home there was commotion and the two of them sat up late watching the news. The next morning there was ice everywhere outside, and Softie got up, looked outside, and went back to bed. The weather got even crazier as the day progressed. It snowed and snowed, and then I heard ice hitting the windows almost all night. Softie and the British One went outside and walked someplace to replenish my magic cupboard, but mostly we've all stayed indoors.

I've enjoyed sitting in the large window in the spare room, watching silly humans outside try to dig their metal monsters out from the snow. Most are unsuccessful.

I'm glad I am in a nice, warm house.

My Favorite Day of the Year, part 2

I've had delicious turkey today and I shall have more.

Being an older cat...well, just being a cat actually, makes me inclined to sleep quite a lot. Something about Thanksgiving Turkey makes me even sleepier.

It also makes me extremely happy!

My Favorite Day of The Year

I shall eat like the royalty I am for the next week!

In a few hours I will be feasting on the most succulent turkey ever. I'm trying to act nonchalant, but it's ever so difficult to contain my excitement.

Oh, if only this day came every day.

Chilly Nights...Warm Bed

Ahhhhh....there is nothing I enjoy more than sleeping on top of Softie when the weather turns. I like to sleep next to her in bed, curled up under her arm, but when the weather turns frosty it's much better to sleep right on top of her. She doesn't move around a lot in her sleep so she's perfect to nestle on top of.

Happy Birthday to Me

I am seventeen years old today and to celebrate, the British One and Softie have been making a fuss over me. I think I deserve it.

I have already been outside, plus they cooked me the most delicious feast of diced chicken for my breakfast. For some reason Softie celebrates her birthday with me. The British One gave her something called an iPod.

It looks harmless enough.

Something Fishy This Way Comes

I suspect the humans are up to something sinister.

Over the past month they have taken me up to visit the old lady several times. Each visit is only for a few hours and then we go back home. Prior to each forced visit, the humans really get uber-tidy with my house. Everything is cleaned, polished and gleaming by the time we leave.

Today a strange couple came into the house when the humans were away. They walked around inspecting everything and commenting on what they liked and disliked about my house. This isn't the first time something like this has happened this month, but I felt really uneasy about the way this particular couple seemed to like my house.

They saw me lounging in my chair, and tried to be friendly to me, but I decided that it was best to slink behind the sofa until they had gone.

Why are all these strange people wandering around my house?

Dirty Kitty

Even though I am not fond of water (except to drink of course), I believe THIS might just be my new favorite site.

Who Says I'm O-L-D?

The humans can be so silly sometimes. I am continually amazed at how the tiniest of gestures excite them.

Take this morning for instance. A mere leap from the floor to the desk surprised and excited the pair of them. They acted as if they could not believe I could jump up that high. They both praised me and gave me a good scratching for my effort.

The British One was especially pleased with my performance, because he went into the kitchen of his own accord and fixed me the most delicious breakfast of diced chicken. I always know when I'm getting the good stuff because they open the door to their big, cold, foodbox and heat up something special. The food in the big, cold, foodbox is much tastier than the food from the magic cupboard, although if the food from the magic cupboard is in a small can it's infinitely better than the food from the larger ones.

To further excite the silly humans I did a fancy little maneuver and situated myself on top of the kitchen table. It has been several years since I last got on the table, so I thought it'd be a good time to let them know I could still do it. This small gesture really got them going!

Because I am clever and fluffy and handsome, the sliding door to the deck has been open for me to go in and out at my leisure for the entire day!

I am very good at getting my way!

What Exactly IS a "Dreadlocked Rasta"?

Softie and the British One conspired against me again last night. I was happily dozing on Softie's lap as she brushed me. The next thing I knew they were attacking me with scissors! Naturally I fought them and let my displeasure be known.

They kept saying I have "nappy dreads." Whatever does that mean!?

Yeah, so I can't reach my hind legs as well as I used to--but I can still clean them. Kinda. What's a few little tangles? The pair of them act like it is the end of the world or something!

It's my birthday month!

I don't feel as though I will soon be 17 years old. Well, perhaps just a little. I find myself unable to do things I used to take for granted, like jump up into the front room window, or leap onto the kitchen counters. It's been a long time since I last took a snooze on top of the refrigerator.

I can only vaguely remember my former home and family. I remember it being cold, and there were many cats, none very friendly. I spent a lot of time hiding in the bushes of a large, white farmhouse until the old lady who lived there began to feed me the most delicious foods. First she fed me on the porch, then eventually she fed me inside the door of the farmhouse, which was very cozy and warm. She always let me back outside when I was finished eating. It was a pretty good life, although the other cats began to get suspicious when I wasn't fighting for food scraps at dinner in the barn each night.

Then came the day she didn't let me back outside. I panicked! It was best to hide out in the basement, crying, and hope that my mother could rescue me.

The old lady still put food out for me, but I was too depressed to eat. I wanted my mother! I wanted the bushes and the cold wind rippling through my fur! I sulked and continued to hide under the stairs. The old man would come into the basement and check on me. The two of them spoke kindly to me but I was too frightened to acknowledge them.

One day the old man came downstairs and grabbed me. I was scared and hungry so I didn't put up much of a struggle. He carried me up the stairs and into the arms of Softie, who cuddled me and held me ever so gently.

Softie took me away to the house we have shared together ever since. I was amazed at how thoughtful she was--she even had a bush in the middle of the lounge with lots of shiny gifts underneath. As soon as she let me into the room I ran behind the bush and had myself a nice poo, which was proper etiquette outside but obviously from Softie's reaction not such a good idea inside a house. Oops.

I had a lot to learn, but I had even more to teach Softie.

Cat Stacking is Wrong!

The British One is addicted to an online game called "Stack The Cats."

I find this game demeaning and insulting, and would advise all my fellow felines to stay far away from it.

Softie is just as bad. She doesn't play it very often but will sit and watch the British One play. And she laughs and imitates the voices and music. They don't even notice when I have left the room to sulk.

Again, I advise all felines to stay away from this website!

Cat stacking is WRONG!