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.