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.