Walking on Sunshine?

Yesterday a small black suitcase escaped from the closet and convinced our houseguest Sally to stuff it with personal belongings and take it away.

I was very sad to see Sal leave, because she has a spectacular lap to sleep on, and was quite happy to sit very still and read whenever I flopped on her for a bit of kip.

I think the humans realized that I was unhappy to see her leave, because they gave me a lot of attention last night, which I think I deserved. The British One fed me a pot of strawberry swirl yogurt, and Softie gave me an extra long brushing and then used the comb under my chinny-chin chin.

We took delivery of another TWO large scratching mats over the weekend. One of them has been put into the dining room and I don't like it one little bit. I've decided that I do not like the way it feels underpaw, and am very unhappy that the humans have removed my soft rug in favour of this one. I can no longer sleep in one of my favorite spots as a result. It's very rude. The other scratching mat is still rolled up and wrapped in plastic, and it better stay that way because the only rug left to replace is the other soft one, in the lounge. Softie and the British One keep making noises about how much they hate these rugs, which were here when we moved in, but I quite like them. They are comfy, soft, and worn just enough to be cozy. The humans call them "horrible."

In other news, the humans have been rather excitable today due to someone called Katrina. I sat and watched a bit of the Weather Channel with them but I never did see Katrina. All I could see was a lot of churning water, which did not interest me in the least.

My good friend Hayden has two humans on vacation right now, and are holidaying somewhere near this Katrina person. The British One received a message from them, saying that they had only been inside their rented beachhouse for ninety minutes when they were evacuated! Now they are sheltering elsewhere and not having a very nice time.

Katrina certainly has been making waves.

A House With Guests and All The Rest

The British One and Softie's houseguest Sally has taken up residence in my bedroom, and she shuts the door at night so that I cannot go in and pad around on her. I cannot sleep on the end of her bed. I cannot go in and test out the gigantic new scratching mat that smells so lovely.

I'd be angry about it, but she has such a wonderful lap and lets me nest on her lap whenever she sits down on the sofa. When she reclines the sofa I am able to climb right up onto her chest and put my paws on her shoulders and nuzzle my nose under her chin and she doesn't mind! I like that!

I might even be annoyed that they leave me early in the morning and go outside and explore and do things, while I am cooped up inside the house while the weather is so nice, but it gives me a chance to nap gloriously on the Poang.

Perhaps I am a little bit annoyed that sometimes my afternoon delicious diced chicken is late, but I'm being good about it and not leaving any gifts on the carpets or hardwood.

More Goodies for Me!

The British One and I took delivery of a very large something or another several days ago. It smelled very interesting, but was wrapped in a heavy plastic that was difficult for my nose to penetrate.

Yesterday I finally found out what it is: a massive kitty scratching pad! I was dozing on the bed when the British One hauled it upstairs and began to unwrap it. I had to find out what was going on, so I ventured into my other room (the humans refer to it as the "spare") and helped him with his task. After it was unwrapped the mat smelled very good indeed--not catnip good, but good nonetheless. The British One said it is a rug made of sea grass, which is why it smells so wonderful. Softie says it smells like the green tea she used to drink as an exchange student in someplace called Japan.

We rolled out the mat and moved the bed on top of it, and then put a few weights down on the edges, apparently to keep them from curling. I was very interested to inspect my new mat, but the British One carried me out of the room and shut the door behind him.

I didn't even get to try it out!

Blue Ribbons Galore

I have received a shiny blue ribbon rosette from the very lovely and clever Keiser!

Thank you so much, my good friend!

I always enjoy reading Keiser's journal entries and looking at her pictures. She is a very fine kitty indeed, and I am pleased to know her.

The British One and Softie are helping me celebrate my fourth ribbon with a pot of strawberry swirl yogurt and a good brushing. I think I might even be able to persuade them to take me outside to flop around in the grass later today.

Just Call Me Paddy

I seem to have laid quite a guilt trip onto my humans regarding the misappropriation of my Kitty Adventure Room, because yesterday they took delivery of a brand new bedroom suite and installed it into one of my bedrooms.

I know the bedroom suite is mine because a small, padded kitty bench arrived with the shipment. They put the padded kitty bench at the foot of the bed so that I may climb upon the new bed without struggling. The bench is very soft and much easier to climb on than the small blue Pottery Barn stepstool I have been using until now.

The small blue stepstool has been left in my other bedroom, so that I can still climb up on that bed, should I choose to. I’ve learned that their friend Sally is visiting soon from the UK, so I may use that stepstool to climb into Sally’s bed and pad around on her.

The last time she visited, when we lived in my old house, she nicknamed me Paddy. I can hardly wait to pad on her again!

A Deception to The Rule

I have been deceived and am not very pleased about it.

There has been much ado regarding the mysterious fourth bedroom, which I had been led to believe was going to be my very own kitty room. It was relatively small to be a human bedroom, and I was quite chuffed when I discovered that the strange, noisy men had ripped out the floorboards. I took this to mean the room would become my very own Kitty Adventure Room. There was a large window with which to oversee my domain, and lots of interesting tunnels in the walls and floor for me to explore.

Not that I was ever allowed to venture into the room unsupervised! The British One and Softie always seemed to be right there whenever I tried to get in. It was my very own Kitty Adventure Room, and I wasn’t allowed in. How rude!

I thought it odd when items for this room began to turn up and they were NOT kitty related, but I took it all in stride. I was never going to use a human sink, toilet, radiator or cabinetry, but if they insisted these items go into my Kitty Adventure Room, who was I to complain? I could live with the clutter of human stuff, because the radiator would keep me warm in the winter, and the other items would be good to climb upon for a better vantage point out the window.

Then the strange, noisy men covered up all the interesting tunnels in the walls and floor with very slick, shiny tile. New lighting was installed, doors were put into place, mirrors were hung and the whole room began to take on the appearance of a human litterbox. They already have a litterbox! It’s a perfectly good one too, which Softie gushes about to her friends because it was built by someone named Art Deco. I have no idea why they feel the need to have another, newer one, where my Kitty Adventure Room is supposed to be.

I’ve suffered all this upheaval; all those long days locked away in the kitchen and dining room, listening to the strange, noisy men clamber around upstairs making a big mess, and for what? A human litterbox?!

It’s very unfair.

A Bittersweet Anniversary

Today marks my one year anniversary of being on Catster.

I have had a lot of fun so far, and have met loads of lovely kitties whom I am pleased to call my friends. I have especially enjoyed trading emails.

Today also marks the first day I am without my good friend Baron von Stinkerton. The Baron took leave for the Summerland yesterday, and I miss him terribly. He was such a good pal, and a good natured guy as well. If my humans tried to put jester collars or Dumbledore hats on me, I'd use the claw on them! The Baron, however, took it all in stride and actually enjoyed playing dress-up with his human.

Even though my friend The Baron is no longer with us, he lives on at Catster, and for that I am ever so grateful.

Until We Meet Again

My good friend The Baron has had a good life, living with a human who adores him. The Baron has been ill for a little while, and although he does not want to have to leave his home and his human, he hears the Summerland calling to him.

May his journey over the Rainbow Bridge be peaceful and painless.

He has been a wonderful friend and companion to all who have known him. He will be sadly missed.

Wedding Bells

I have been asked to be a GKM (Grooms Kitty Man) for the upcoming wedding of Hazel Lucy and Buddy, which will be held in September.

Of course I accepted! It is not every day a friend gets married, afterall. Plus I already have a nice tuxedo handy, so she will not have to worry her pretty furry head about scheduling a fitting or rental for me.

I do hope white shoes will be acceptable.

Anonymous Revealed

I would like to thank the lovely Scooter for my second blue ribbon rosette! I am indebted to the Scootster for clueing me in to Anonymous too--who has been revealed as the very pretty Kazumi Joy.

Thank you both for the ribbons. I have had a wonderful time batting at them and fraying the ends with my newly cleaned teeth. The humans continue to carry me up and down the stairs, and continue to ply me with delicious diced chicken.

It's a wonderful life!

A Blue Ribbon Rosette

I have received a blue ribbon Rosette from another kitty on Catster.

I do not know who Anonymous is, but I would like to thank them. It fills my fluffy white bib with great pride.

Softie and the British One have helped me celebrate my achievement by serving an extra helping of delicious diced chicken and giving me a good, long brush last night. Then, instead of having to walk up and down the stairs between the floors, I have been carried by the humans.

I could get used to this!

Thank you Anonymous!!

Have My Instincts Failed Me?

All day yesterday I suspected the humans were up to no good. At the top of the list of making me suspicious was that they slept in late. I awakened Softie by walking all over her, but she didn't get up! Instead, she picked up a book and began reading. So I decided to wake up the British One by walking all over him, but it didn't work.

Whenever I am not fed my delicious diced chicken at the appointed time each morning, it usually means I am in for a dreadful time at the evil vet. I decided to try to go back to sleep, or at least to feign sleep. I curled up into a furry little ball at the foot of the bed and closed my eyes--although I made sure my ears were up and very alert.

Eventually Softie got out of bed and went downstairs, but I was afraid to follow her for fear of the dreaded Pet Taxi. So I stayed in bed with the British One. Momentarily, however, he too got out of bed. He switched on the glowing box in the office and commenced pecking away at the keyboard. I continued to feign sleep.

I heard Softie calling to me, and I heard the beeping box in the kitchen, but still I worried that it was a ruse to get me downstairs, where I was sure to be stuffed into the Pet Taxi and whisked away to the evil vet.

Presently Softie also called to the British One, who went downstairs. I could hear them having a nice breakfast by the clink of cutlery on dishes, but I wasn't going to be lulled into a false sense of security, only to be stuffed inside the Pet Taxi. I stayed put.

It was mid-morning by the time Softie came upstairs and asked if I was hungry. Of course I was--but I still suspected they were up to no good, and I told her as much from my warm duvet. She scooped me up and carried me downstairs, and so sure was I of the Pet Taxi that I immediately began scanning the floors while still in her arms. Oddly, I didn't see it.

She placed me in the kitchen, where a heaping helping of delicious diced chicken awaited. I thought this was very strange, as normally they do not feed me before I visit the evil vet, because I tend to be very sick inside the metal monster if I have eaten. I tentatively began to eat, but kept stopping to watch Softie and the British One because I was SURE one of them would appear with the dreaded Pet Taxi at any moment. But soon the British One was dressed in his painting clothes and had disappeared upstairs to paint a bedroom, and Softie had put on a floppy hat and her Chuck Taylor's and gone outside to fire up the grass-eating noisemaker.

I stayed alert all day, in between naps on the bed, sofa and Poang chair. Nothing bad ever happened and I was not taken away to the evil vet.

Have my instincts failed me?

A Tale of Suitcases

Softie managed to let one of the suitcases escape from the closet, and it has convinced her to fill it with clothing and personal effects. Luckily it appears to be one of the small suitcases, which hopefully means she will not be away too long.

This morning she said her goodbyes to the British One and me, and left with the suitcase, saying something about a business trip. What business could the small suitcase have?

The next few days will be Lads Only at my house. I suspect that the British One and I will be doing a lot of painting, a lot of listening to BBC Radio, a lot of eating delicious diced chicken, and a lot of telly viewing. I might also find time to nap during our busy schedule.

The Kitty Salon Adventure

I know something happened to me yesterday, but I’m not quite sure what it was.

I KNEW the humans were up to no good when I wasn’t presented a dish of delicious diced chicken for breakfast yesterday morning. They tip-toed around, pretending that they had simply “forgotten” to feed me, but I knew better. I knew something was up.

Sure enough, I was swept up into Softie’s arms and stuffed unceremoniously into the Pet Taxi. I didn’t even struggle this time, deciding to take the high road and face my fate with head and tail held high.

Softie packed me into the metal monster and took me to the evil hippie vet, where she left me alone. I looked at her through the bars of the Pet Taxi and made a feeble little meow, which I knew melted her heart and made her feel extra guilty for leaving me alone.

I don’t remember a whole lot after that point. I was taken into a room and given a shot, which made me very sleepy. I wanted to fight and struggle, but I couldn’t be bothered. I just wanted my beddie-bye basket.

Next thing I remember was waking up, quite woozy, inside a metal cage. There were other cats in other cages around me. Some were quite angrily upset about their predicament, others cried and fretted. I laid there and watched the comings and goings of the office staff. I took note of the fact that my nappy dreads were all gone, my claws had been clipped, and my teeth felt so wonderfully smooth and clean. The evil hippie vet checked in on me a couple of times, and then I heard a voice I recognized: The British One had come to rescue me!

I was so happy to hear his voice—and even happier to see him standing at the doorway to carry me home. As soon as we were home I climbed up into his lap and fell asleep as he stroked me and told me what a good and handsome boy I am.

I was still drowsy and a little uncoordinated by the time Softie came home, but I was ever so glad to see her! I climbed into her lap and dozed while she brushed me and used the comb on my chin and bib. I’m not sure what the evil hippie vet did to me, but he certainly has made me more handsome and adorable than ever.

Nurse Nickie

The British One awoke sometime in the night and was very sick. He came downstairs into the lounge to avoid waking up Softie, so I sat on top of him and tried to make him feel better.

When he went back to bed, some hours later, I followed and slept at his feet, safe in the knowledge that if he needed me, I'd be right there.

He's still got a dicky tummy this morning, but I am certain that I have made him feel better by lying directly on top of him as he lies in bed watching the entire Stingray DVD boxset.

He and Softie have dubbed me "Nurse Nickie."

A Purge on the Magic Portal

A very curious event happened yesterday, which I watched unfold with great disinterest.

All last week I followed the humans into the Magic Portal and helped them sort through various boxes and containers. The boxes and containers were then carried up into the lounge, where the contents were again taken out and stickered, then put back into the boxes. I believe there was way too much energy exerted into this odd practice. I got bored with it and situated myself on the sofa where I could keep a watchful eye on them, and where I could doze undisturbed.

Yesterday morning, bright and early, the British One and Softie hauled all the boxes and containers out onto the front lawn. I made noises about going outside with them, but they rudely shut the door in my face. My humans simply have no manners.

I watched from the front window as tables were set up and the contents of the boxes taken out and placed upon them. I noticed that the next door neighbors (owners of the evil Mooch) had also hauled items out onto their lawn. Glancing on up the street, I saw other humans doing the same.

The strangest bit about the whole exercise is that out of nowhere strangers began to descend upon the front lawn. They picked items from the tables, handed paper and coins to the humans, and then carried the items away. It was all very odd, and I was glad to be inside the house, safe from the strangers and their grabbing hands.

I overheard the owners of the evil Mooch (whom was also locked away indoors, but never seemed to cease his big barks) conversing with Softie and the British One, and from what I can understand, this practice of hauling items onto the lawn is called the East Row Historic District Community Yard Sale.

As far as I know, our yard was not sold, but nearly everything else was! Softie got sunburned, the British One complained a lot about the heat and humidity, and I napped gloriously on the sofa, in the comfort of the cool house.

More Sad Times

My friend The Baron von Stinkerton has been given some very sad news. He has lymphoma and may not be with us much longer.

He is such a good kitty, and very sweet.

Softie, the British One and I will continue to send good vibes to him and his human Lauren. Please check out his site on Catster.

Of Barons and Bombings

Today has been filled with bad news. First I got the sad news that the Baron is very ill indeed. I am worried that he may be incurable--but I don't want to think about that. I am going to continue to focus my kitty energy toward helping him get better.

Then I found out about the terrible bombings in London. I have never been to London, but Softie and the British One go quite a lot. I sat on the office desk and listened as the British One rang his friends and family to make sure they were safe. Normally at this time of year the British One is over there, but this year he didn't go because they are doing so many renovations to our house. He and Softie still have a home in England, but it is not in London. I have never been and don't want to go, even though the next door neighbors have a very beautiful female kitty named Poppy. I have seen pictures of her and she makes my heart do a happy dance.

I am ready for this bad day to end.

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.