Leonidas again

Great. Ellen saw The Golden Compass movie and now she's started talking about Leonidas again. I thought we were rid of him!

I really don't think it's polite of her to keep carrying on about that blasted snow leopard. Not when I'm here. And haven't I been a loyal companion for FIVE whole years now? That's dedication. But it seems to mean nothing in the face of the magnificent snow leopard.

I hate him. He'd better watch out. For even though he's about ten times my size, I alone remain the devilcat. He'd truly better watch out.

Blog anniversary

As of yesterday, I am now a veteran blogger of one whole year! I never thought I would come to appreciate how therapeutic it can be to rant about my life and all its irritations. I mean, you can see why I'm a devilcat, can't you?

As this year draws to a close, I'd like to thank all my readers, especially Beth, my occasional guest blogger. Although she can be a pain in the backside, Beth's posts offer insightful observations on how to be a matron cat -- not that I'd advocate that exactly, but it takes all kinds to make up the feline world. And Beth certainly has the matron angle down pat. (he he)

So for 2008 you can expect more devilcat tips, more insights from Beth into the feline Psyche (although I'll make sure she doesn't give too much away), and more stories about ME!

Why cats hate wind

I've heard all kinds of reasons: that the wind spooks us, that we're flighty like horses, that the howl of the wind sounds like a wolf and frightens us. What nonsense! No self-respecting cat is spooked by a little bit of wind. True, we might like to chase around little bits of debris that are eddying, but spooked we are not. Oh, no no no. The true reason is -- are you listening closely? -- the true reason is that we're just like humans (only don't let them hear you say it or, if you do, don't say you heard it from me) in that we hate bad hair days! And that's what the wind does. Any self-respecting cat will tell you that!

I am not aimiable!

You'd think Ellen's friends would have learned by now that I hate them. She had a bunch of them over last night and it was all I could do to ignore them and stay asleep. Then E tipped me off the cushion saying she needed the seat for a guest (well, really) and so I bolted.

But there's always one . . . Or three . . . Or five . . . who remain convinced they can win me over. They mumble and mutter and wave and try all manner of demeaning actions to try to get my attention. How many times do I have to growl, bite and scratch to give them the message?

Geez, they're so annoying. I sooo have better things to do than hang around when E has friends over.

I did hear them all say that I had been very good, though. Patronising humans! Next time I'll take chunk out of every one who tries to be friendly.

How clever am I? (Answer: very clever!)

Now that my -- er -- 'apron' has grown back, I'm not longer the same cat. I look different! How clever am I! My chest used to be more uniform in colour, my stripes less pronounced. I'm just going for a slightly different look. What do you think, Chenna? Not matronly at all, right? I'm thinking it's kind of sexy. If I were a boy, I'd call it my bow-tie look and think that I look suave and dapper, but I'm not a boy (the name gives it away, right?), so I'll just have to settle for pretty! Ah, if only they'd buy me something pink to sit on.

Last weekend

Chenna, help! My humans are turning into your human! Last weekend they went away for four days! Four. Do you know how many that is? How many paws do you have? How many claws to a paw? It was as frustrating as seeing a big fat ugly tomcat in your yard but being trapped inside. They did, of course, organise someone to come and feed me, but he doesn't stay and talk to me and give me pats and recognise me as queen of the house. So when the humans came home I put my tail in the air and walked off. Aloof, Chenna, that's the way to do it. No need to be biting and hissing. Just play it cool. It words wonders. They know of my displeasure and will have to earn back my favour. I can expect great things!

Fluffy and ZimZam

This evening -- I still can't believe it -- Ellen hobnobbed with the owners of white fluffball and the ginger cat!! She got all friendly with them and everything!!

I feel so demeaned. Trivialised.

One thing to come out of it though is that I now know that white fluffball's name is "Fluffy" and the ginger cat is "ZimZam". What kind of name is that? They're both boys, which only reinforces my poor impression of them.

Neglected

I'm rather wondering why Ellen even bothered coming home. It's not as though she's been around much this week.

Do you think she'd notice if I didn't come home? I almost tried it this evening; I waited outside when she got home, instead of rushing inside for food, to see what she'd do.

But I couldn't last. I was too hungry. So I went in when she called, leaving her only mildly surprised.

Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.

Back to normal

It's nice to have Ellen back, even if she goes to work all day and clacks away on her computer all evening. It's comforting clacking. (Come to think of it, she also made an awful racket with vacuuming this evening . . .)

The weekend was dull as. But at least I had visitors to dispense my food and open the cat door in the mornings. I could have wished they didn't bother shutting it at night again . . . the least E could have done was allow me to roam outside all night if she was off having fun elsewhere. It's not as though I can go hang out with my friends, if I'm stuck inside! (I do have friends - truly!)

But I survived [sigh] and I even refrained from peeing on the floor inside. She would've hated that and it would have served her right! But I didn't. Maybe Beth is teaching me some manners after all.

mutter mutter

mutter mutter mutter . . . Ellen's hardly been home this week and I've been BORED. What does she mean by getting home so late every night? I mean, tonight it was after 11pm! And I get so HUNGRY while I'm waiting. And today I was LOCKED OUT by my stupid cat door which gets stuck sometimes, and it was a HOT DAY.

On the upside, I got to stay outside until 11pm tonight, which on a balmy night like tonight is way cool.

But now she tells me she's going away WITHOUT ME all weekend. And so I'll have to be more bored and rely on others to come and feed me. Geez.

mutter mutter mutter

Devilcat tip#8 - what to do with insects

It's butterfly season again - glorious. You'll also find lots of flies buzzing about. Both make marvellous playthings. Fun to catch, but even better to dismember.

Just remember that the best place to do this is inside. By all means, bring your playthings in and show off to your humans just how clever you are. They'll be especially thankful if you can catch the flies that come inside of their own volition (fools). Just leave the remains on the floor and the humans will pick them up. Sometimes the butterflies are not quite dead, and their desperate, pathetic, feeble fluttering is worth a look.

You may also notice the occasional cockroach. Ah, these are fun to play with too - only take care to do so away from humans, or they'll scream - or, worse, vomit. That's what Ellen almost did when I left a half-mangled roach on the floor in her bedroom once. She didn't like that at all. He he. On the other hand, it was rather fun seeing her reaction! She likes me killing the suckers, but doesn't what to acknowledge their existence.

Other fun bugs to play with are cicadas (but they make an awful racket when you bring them inside) and spiders of course. E thinks her huntsman died of natural causes! Little does she really know.

More cat trivia

More insights into feline-dom from the vet:

• 95% of cat owners admit they talk to their cats. (yep)
• A cat can be either right-pawed or left-pawed. (nup - I can swat with either claw just as effectively)
• A cat cannot see directly under its nose. This is why the cat cannot seem to find tidbits on the floor. (I just wish E would get this one!)
• A cat has 230 bones in its body. A human only has 206 bones.
• A cat has four rows of whiskers. (well, duh)
• A cat in a hurry can sprint at about thirty-one miles per hour. (you betcha - E is always amazed how I can meet her at the front door then race around to the back and get inside before she does!)
• A cat sees about six times better than a human at night because of the tapetum lucidum , a layer of extra reflecting cells which absorb light. (erm . . .?)
• A cat uses its whiskers to determine if a space is too small to squeeze through. The whiskers act as feelers or antennae, helping the animal to judge the precise width of any passage.
• A cat will almost never meow at another cat. Cats use this sound for humans. (and a low-grade language it is too)

5th birthday

Today is nominally my 5th birthday. It's nominal because no-one actually knows the precise date. The vets estimated my age when I was handed in. So for all intents and purposes, today is the day.

FIVE! How about that? I have celebrated with an idyllic day in the garden. E hasn't been around much -- it would have been nice for her to spend some time with me, I must say. But she's going out again this evening, and will most likely lock me in, so I look forward to a long boring evening all alone.

Happy birthday to me.

Am I good or what?

Yesterday, I caught and ate two mice. Hear that? Two. And big fat juicy mice they were. In our kitchen. Now, you might ask how come I let them be there in the first place, but with those dogs in and out, I find I much prefer the solitude of the front garden these days. But, today, the humans called me in, grabbed me (most unceremoniously), held me up, moved a bit of furniture -- out the little fat boy ran and kapow! Two seconds, and I had it. The humans let me outside and left me to it, which was a rather nice change if I do say so myself.

An hour or two later, and they collared me again. This time one held me while the other swept a broom handle under the fridge. Little fat boy no 2 appeared and kapow! Two seconds later, I had it. Yeah, Chenna, so I had some human help, but I had to have my wits about me, act quickly. Otherwise I'd be lying around dreaming about mice instead of vomiting them up this morning. And I do love to barf them all over the lawn.

But you know what the stupid humans said yesterday when I'd caught no 2? You'd think they'd be grateful, wouldn't you? They said, all laughs and cheekiness, "Oh, good, now we won't have to feed you dinner!" Humans, they're so droll! As if!

Scramble for food

Ellen was home late today -- again -- but I forgave her because she came bearing food! With only a few crumbs left in my food barrel, I must admit I was getting anxious again, but thankfully she remembered my predicament.

It turns out that she rocked up at the vet to get my food, to find them in the process of locking up! Sensing doom, she begged to be allowed to purchase some food, and the very nice dog groomer let her in and searched for some freebie samples of the particular food I must eat. (Royal Canin urinary food).

When no freebie samples were to be found (at least of the cat variety), the kind dog groomer fired up the computer and allowed E to purchase a full bag. So lucky that E had cash on her, or things might have been tricky indeed!

Niles and Sam

I have posted some new photos in the sidebar today.

Sam (right) is Lita's new baby boy, an innocent little kitty cat, some 9 weeks old or so. I hope Lita plans to let him read my blog from time to time. Might as well start devilcat training from an early age!

Niles (left) is Lita's faithful feline friend. He's missing his old buddy Fox a lot these days, and trying to deal with the little bag of beans that is Sam. Poor Niles -- he probably doesn't know what's hit him!

Milk bottle ring

Oh praise the cat gods, I have found new meaning in life with the revelation about milk bottle rings. You know, the ring that seals the lid to the bottle when first purchased? I found one on the floor yesterday quite late, and you have no IDEA how much fun it is to play with! It scoots along the floors amazingly well, and makes a cute plasticky tinkling sound.

Ellen just looks at me and laughs. Ha, she says. Have you only just worked that out? Moggie used to play with them all the time. (Moggie was Ellen's former feline. I met her once or twice -- old decrepit thing. She died over 4 years ago.)

I have a sneaking suspicion that E put the ring in my way to see what I'd do. Well, so what? She was right for once. I LOVE it!

The only problem is that now I've lost it. It's disappeared under some piece of furniture (can't remember which) and so that's the end. Until E opens another bottle of milk . . .

Devilcat tip #7 - bedroom behaviour

There are two different types of humans: those who allow us felines to sleep on their beds, and those who don't. I am very lucky to have a human who does allow me on the bed. In fact, she even allows me in the bed. The trick to maintaining devilcat status is to be unpredictable. The moment humans expect anything of you, you're doomed.

I mix up my bedroom behaviour. Sometimes, I'm there quite early, on the bed before E is asleep. Othertimes, I lurk around outside the bedroom, ignoring her inquiring calls, waiting to sneak in much later, in the middle of the night.

The other thing to mix up is location. There's the option of ON the bed. When choosing this option, it's essential to find a comfy warm position between your human's legs. This may sound rude, but if you're on top of the doona, it's fine. (It is also extremely irritating for your human, who is pinned and cannot move! I find it perpetually amazing how pathetic humans can be, not wanting to wake us up and all. Don't they know we wake and sleep both in a flash?)

If you want something even more cozy, there's the option of IN the bed. My favourite spot is between the doona and top sheet. That way, you're separate from your human, with all the benefits of being beneath the doona. You can also go under the sheet, but I don't recommend this as highly as the other option. Of course, if your human doesn't have a top sheet, you don't have a choice! When in the bed, the best spot is in the small of your human's back.

Always go towards the CENTRE of the bed, never the side. This way, you can nudge your human so far to the edge that they almost fall out!

If you're feeling particularly mischievious, you can head down towards the feet and attack. Most humans HATE this.

Finally, it's worth mentioning that beneath the doona is a brilliant place to sleep if you're feeling low. I find if I'm somewhere I'd rather not be (such as the island) I can slip under the doona and pretend I'm somewhere else. There's the added advantage that stupid humans can't find you! (I played this trick on T on the island recently. He he.)

Fur balls

I am a good cat. I keep myself clean. I keep the mice from leaving the aviary. From time to time I keep the blonde bimbo and little red ratface dogs in line -- well, all right, mostly I just tease them from where they cannot reach me. Dumbo bimbo's okay -- big and klutzy but gentle, but that little red ratface -- she's smart, I tell you. At least, that is, smart for a dog. Average intelligence for a cat. You don't see her with a blog, do you?

Right, so the point of this post is that I'm a good cat, and I do what all good cats do: I keep myself clean. And I do this by licking myself. As good cats do. So, why, oh why, do I get furballs? Well, I've never really had one before. And this was a beauty. Involved lots of coughing. My beautiful tabby-and-black fur becoming dull. Lots more coughing. I couldn't get rid of the blasted thing.

So, what did my humans go out and do? They bought this foul-smelling (wish it was fowl-smelling!) paste that they put on my nose. Licorice flavoured they called it. I am a cat. I do not eat licorice. Do you see a problem here? Because I certainly do. So they buy this foul stuff, and they put it on my nose. And, of course, because I'm a good cat who likes to keep herself clean, I lick it off. Dogs, did my eyes go round. And I ran, I tell you. I ran, because if I ran far enough I might leave that foul-smelling stuff, that foul-tasting stuff behind. But, no, it came with me, didn't it? Now, they're putting it in my canned food. And giving me special dry food with other laxatives in it. Yes, you've guessed it -- that foul, black, licorice stuff is a laxative. I have a fur ball not constipation. Stupid humans!

Muse

Just so you know, I helped E and T write during the recent long weekend at the island. They couldn't have done it without me. I was their muse.

Whenever they faltered, I was there to make sure they kept those fingers clacking. Whenever they got hungry, I got hungry too.

It's hard work being a muse!

You'd have thought they'd be a little more thankful. After all, they say they got heaps of work done. And it's all down to me!

Back in good spirits

Just want to let you know that we're back from the island and I had an OK time -- not brilliant, but OK. At least I didn't disgrace myself. I used the litter tray for the WHOLE weekend. It helped that Ellen changed it every day :-)

I have heaps more to say but E is making me wait until tomorrow. She says she's too tired. Pathetic.

Until tomorrow.

Why can't we just stay home?

To cap off a crap week, during which Ellen has hardly been home and I've been bored out of my brain and unable to blog TO-BOOT, I've just found out we're going down to the island for a four-day weekend.

Sheesh. I'd so much rather we just stayed home!

Cat without curfew

Every night this week, I have been tormented by an intruder in my garden. Mostly it's that pesky ginger cat, lounging about on my decking or skulking under my hydrangea or cruising on my roof.

I am locked inside while all this happens after dark, and forced to watch from the confines of the house. No matter how much I warn him off, it doesn't seem to work. He just ignores me, until it suits him to saunter off in his own good time.

A few times in past weeks I have actually found myself contemplating making friends with the ginger cat. Sometimes we hang out together and there's no fighting. But I really do think it's rude of him to mock me in this way -- just because he doesn't seem to have a curfew! (Neither does white fluffball.) How can I be friends with him now?

Two things . . .

There are two things I want to mention today:

1. There is a huntsman spider in our house. Ellen didn't tell me about it at first, but I found it yesterday. It was sitting quite brazenly on the mirror in the bathroom, so of course I attacked it. Wriggly spiders are sooo much fun to play with! The best toys ever. But, alas, as spiders so often do, it got away. Now I think it is far too afraid to show itself again. I am pretending to ignore it for a few days, in order to lure it out again. Then we'll see!

2. My food supply is almost out! This is a cause for GRAVE concern. I heard Ellen say she was going to buy some today, but she came home without it. Instead, the food container is almost empty. In an attempt to make it through the next few days, in case Ellen forgets to buy food, I am rationing myself. Tonight I have only eaten half my dinner, just to make sure there is some left for the morning! This is TERRIBLE. I'm so HUNGRY.

(Maybe I'll have to eat that damned spider after all.)

Why cats need to be allowed out at night (or why every cat needs a fence)

They don't come out at daytime, do they? Really, I am a well-mannered cat, so I don't see what all the fuss is about. The humans go out with their cameras and whatever, and I have to look through the window. It doesn't seem very fair, does it? I'm not going to be out there caterwauling and making a fuss. I'm not going to eat the cute little thing. Well, I might, but last time I got up close to one it spat louder than I did. I won't even chase the cat next door and scream and fight. Well, I might, but only if he comes onto my property. Let's take a vote, cats! Should we be allowed out or not?

Devilcat tip #6 - how to be a lap cat

For some reason, humans seem to expect cats to sit on their laps. Beats me why this should be. I mean, it might provide US with a nice soft, warm place to curl up (despite the wriggling), but what do THEY get out of it?

I'll never know. Anyway, here are some very special tips about sitting on laps that will ensure you maintain your devilcat status even while performing this task.

1. Do not make the move towards the lap until you know your human is about to get up. Nothing annoys a human more than having you curl up to sleep just when the ad break during which they've decided to visit the loo or put the kettle on arrives. Or even a few minutes before the show ends and they're about to go do something else.

2. Humans who sit at computers do not really like having cats on their laps, even though it makes them feel loved. It forces them to sit awkwardly and type with their keyboard on an angle. It also makes them sit back from the screen they like to squint at so intently.

3. If you do have a human who sits at the computer, a good trick is to curl up on their lap and then attack their wrist as they try to type or move the computer mouse. [NOTE: Computer mouses are not good to eat.]

4. Knead the lap well before curling up to sleep. Claws OUT.

5. Never stay on the lap for more than about 10 minutes. This is plenty of time to show love, and you will find that your favourite bed (or, in my case, cushion) is much more comfortable anyway.

There you have them. My top five tips for lap sitting. Go now and practice.

New friends

I now have a few new friends on Catbook: Mr Darcy and Lizzie (furry felines) and Emma (of the human variety). Yay! I will see if I can get pics of Mr D and Lizzie to post here.

I should also point out that Lizzie is a boy and Mr Darcy is a girl. This is clearly a cunning plan on the part of them and their mother (Lady Catherine) to befuddle their humans. I am very impressed.

Why every cat needs a swamp

First there are the birds. What cat doesn't like watching birds and contemplating dinner? And these are big birds! Ibis, spoonbills, swans, pelicans -- just imagine how full one of those babies is going to make your tummy! Course it's not so easy to catch them, but that's half the fun.

Then there are the rats. Oh, lovely, juicy things. I like to stuff myself full and go over the road to get rid of the excess. A neighbour's front garden is always good for this. Are you taking note, Chenna? Don't foul your own garden because your humans will get upset and growl at you. And we don't like growls, do we? We like pats on the head, or scratches under the chin.

The next best thing about the swamp is that it's somewhere else to explore. There's a nice little bird watching hut that you can sit in and peer out of. Could do with some more trees though, especially for when some pesky dog comes along intent on chasing you. But there's always the fence designed to keep dogs out. Ha ha, stupid dogs! Long live cats, eh?

In disgrace

We had children in the house today and I'm afraid I lost my cool. When there was only one, I could deal with it, even for a whole weekend. But I'm afraid three were too many.

The thing is they are so fascinated with me! Here am I, trying to sleep peacefully, when the children come and fling themselves towards me. I growl and hiss a bit, to make them keep away, and it seems to work. (I made one of them cry just by growling, though, which didn't make me feel very good.)

But then one came just that bit too close and I swiped. I tried to stop, truly I did, but my claw was swinging before I realised. And then Ellen started yelling at me and trying to get me off my cushion to make me go outside, and so I attacked her. Drew blood and everything. Oh dear.

The one I swiped at screamed loud enough to send the driveway cats scampering, but she seemed to calm down eventually. I don't suppose she'll be back for a holiday though. As for Ellen, well she gave me such dirty looks that it's a miracle I got fed this evening. I am well and truly in disgrace.

Catbook

So who said humans had all the fun? I now have my very own facebook page. (Well, actually, CATBOOK.) If you're a friend of Ellen's you can be a friend of mine as well. You can 'stroke' me and leave me messages on my wall. Sheesh - what a time-waster.

Introducing ... ME

First, let me say thank you to Chenna for extending this invitation. But -- matron cat? Did I hear that properly. That little minx of a devilcat is still whispering those words? Sheesh. I am not a matron and nor do I have an apron, just a bad hair month. We all have those at times. Go out into the wind, Chenna, and then let's see whether your whiskers are straight.

Let me introduce myself. I'm Beth. I'm black-and-tabby. Tabby, hear that, Chenna? Not scabby. Any old cat can be black-and-white or tabby-and-white, but black-and-tabby is something else! I've included a picture so you can see that the ridiculous one that Chenna has put up here is just the bad hair month. I do not have a white chest, but splendid black stripes everywhere. (You did ask, right?)

My age is a secret. Only I know it. That's the way it is, and that's the way it should always be. Lesson #1: don't let humans know your age. If you do, some of them will be inclined to do stupid things like throw you birthday parties. They may put stupid party hats on your head and blow toy trumpets near your ear. Do not dignify such proceedings with your presence, no matter how good the food. Flee. Flee as fast as you can. Lesson #2: never underestimate the stupidity of some people.

I live with two stupid dogs: the blonde bimbo golden retriever and the little red rat-face toller, and a host of birds. There was a fish too, but the blonde bimbo ate it. Lesson #3: never underestimate the stupidity of dogs. They are so far beneath cat's notice that it's not funny.

I like to spend my day watching for mice in the aviary; lazing on the cars; catching rats in the swamp, eating them and vomiting them up in the garden over the road; being on guard at the front of the house; and going for walks with the family. Yes, cats, lesson #4: walks are not just for dogs, but more of that next week. Well, that's a long intro, and like Chenna I do believe in brevity, so I'll sign off and leave it at that.

Smelly feet

Gee, some felines are stupid!

A new perspective

As everyone knows, I'm a problem cat (and proud of it). But I thought my readers might enjoy a slightly different perspective.

You probably all remember Beth? She was the matron cat (sssh, she doesn't like being called that) who donated blood for poor Fox a month or so ago. She's a model citizen: never wees on the floor inside, never scratches or growls, never jumps up on the kitchen bench. She probably even allows her family to cuddle her. But what she lacks in devilry, she has in experience. No doubt she's got some feral feline tales to tell!

So I've invited Beth to post some of her stories here, and maybe some tips as well. As far as I know, she's not in therapy, but maybe some of her advice will help me!

Stay tuned over the coming weeks . . .

Getting used to the beach house

Back home again and happy about it too. Although I must say I'm getting used to the beach house. Even though I don't really go outside (and who would have wanted to with the dreadful weather we had), the house it quite big, so there's plenty of space to explore.

Ellen is really happy with me too, because I used my litter tray every time and she didn't have any cleaning up to do! (Except for my breakfast, which I spewed all over the floor.)

The island AGAIN

Oh, no, just found out we're going to the island!

More on wee

The following exchange (in response to Devilcat tip #5, "The pros and cons of the litter tray", below) is far too good to languish in the comments section!

Beth said...
Hmm, I don't have one of those. I'm expected to hang on. My owners former cat never used one and would pee in the shower hole. I'm with you on this one -- why should I walk on that cold enamel? Clothes left on the floor are good, I always find. Or a half wet towl -- then I can be sneaky and pretend it wasn't me, that it's just shower water.BTW, my new apron has black stripes. Lucky I've hidden the camera or I'm sure they would be taking photos of it. Humans!
27 September 2007 21:39

Chenna said...
Beth, you have it in one! Clothes left on the floor are excellent.BUT even better are SHOES left on the floor. Ellen used to have a pair of leather birkenstocks she would leave around on the floor. They hold wee nicely. I have also experimented on her gorilla slippers and old netball runners.

Battery change

My cat door has a new battery in it. It's ABOUT TIME! For months and months I've been getting stuck outside, and all the time it was merely the battery that needed changing.

What does a cat door need a battery for? Well, it's to do with the magnet around my neck, that triggers a small mechanism in the door latch that allows it to open. When I come close, the latch is released and I can nudge it open with my head. The point is that none other of those pesky felines who keep invading my garden can get through the door. It's mine. All mine. Mine alone.

And praise be to the cat gods that my door worked today, for it was freezing. Spring was flushed out by a major gust of winter. Brrr.

Devilcat tip#5: the pros and cons of the litter tray

This is one area in which I definitely excel, so take note, friends!

This is important. Be fussy about your litter tray. If your human doesn't change it immediately after you've used it, go outside. If you can't go outside, go on the floor. It's as simple as that.

Humans clean their toilet regularly enough, so why do they expect us to put up with reeking wet gravelly stuff? After all, we have to stand in it. It's totally gross. I can assure you that the above-mentioned tactics work a treat and will ensure a pristine litter experience every time.

OK, so going on the floor will always earn you some yelling and glaring. But they get over it.

For the record, my cat litter of choice is Maxx's.

Devilcat tip#4: scratching posts . . .

. . . are for using sometimes, but not all the time.

Don't be fooled by those humans who expect you to work out on the same piece of equipment day in, day out. There is more to life than that.

Try for some variation in your scratching. Sure, the couch arms are an old favourite of cats around the world, me included, but it's possible to get really creative. Instead of the couch, try the office desk chair, or the bed head, or the rug on the floor . . . or, if you're really game, your human's leg. I've also found that scratching underneath chairs is a really fun activity, and the humans don't get too upset, because they figure no-one can see the damage.

Whatever you do, do it properly. Don't let anyone deter you from your chosen scratching place. It's an important part of your daily routine, so don't compromise.

Peace again

Thank goodness the child has gone home and I have peace again. I couldn't even get near Ellen's bed, because the child was there! I had to sleep on the sofa all night.

Today has been much better. All calm and quiet -- save for the stoush I almost had with white fluffball this evening, just as Ellen came home. What that stupid cat meant by coming up my end of the driveway, I'll never know.

Yikes, a child!

We've been invaded by a child for the weekend! Ellen's niece, four years old, always talking, always following me around the house. Sheesh, what next? I don't know that the house has ever been this crazy! What does Ellen want with a child, anyway? She's got me. That should be plenty.

Locked in

Ellen forgot to open my door today -- B%&#$!! All day I was locked inside, gazing forlornly out at the other evil cats in the driveway, bored out of my brain. I didn't even have the heart to terrorise them through the window.

How could she do this to me? Have I not been a good kitty for weeks and weeks -- maybe even months?

To be fair, I don't think it was deliberate. She seemed very guilty when she got home, doled out my food, then found me waiting patiently beside the door. She opened it then, but all I got was a measly half an hour to go outside! Then she locked the door again.

Today has been a dud of a day.

Devilcat tip#3 - the best way to wake up humans

Take one claw, flex to test, then prod sleeping human anywhere on head or face. Cheek works well. Below eye is guaranteed. Scalp also very effective.

Be prepared for humans to try to stroke you in calmness, but don't be swayed! Sit on their pillow and, ever so deliberately, stick claw into skin.

This works. Every time. Take it from me.

Devilcat tip#2 - annoy other cats

It's very important when you're a devilcat to consistently and persistently annoy other cats. This can take the form of hissing and howling through windows (if you're confined inside), or physically terrorising other felines.

The latter is particularly important when those felines invade your territory. DO NOT STAND FOR THIS. The moment you see one coming your way, you must attack attack attack immediately. Hiss, growl, snarl -- whatever it takes.

But it's also fun just to annoy them for the sake of it. You can do this by either taunting them through the window, or invading their space in return. You've got to show them who's boss all the time.

Devilcat tip#1 - bench walker

This might sound obvious, but if you want to get up on the kitchen bench then get on the bench! If they bat you off, then get up again. And again. And again.

Believe me, their patience will fade faster. They have things they'd rather be doing, such as watching TV, or eating. If you think they're going to stand there all day and bat you off the bench, you're nuts. (You could throw in some snarling and biting and scratching as well.)

Eventually, they'll give up and you'll be free to stalk the benches anytime you like. It's a great place to find food. (But that's another tip . . .)

Devilcat tips - listen up

In response to dire need, I've decided to start a new series on 'how to be a Devilcat'. I can't believe how pathetic so many of you cats out there can be.

If you want to be the kind of feline that has those pesky vets donning gloves and then still being unable to get a hand in the cage, then this series is for you.

Also, I am keen to hear any devilcat stories you may have (or at least stories about when you might have attempted to be a devilcat). Let's share the power!

The first tip starts next post.

Gardening pals

Ellen and I played together outside this afternoon. She crawled around the lawn on her hands and knees . . . (To be honest, I'm not sure what she was doing. She kept jabbing and thumping at the grass -- very odd behaviour) . . . while I chased insects and played with her gardening gloves, which smelt really fantastic!

Intruder face-down

I'm loving the warmer weather at the moment. Today I spent loads of time outdoors, but had to contend with some intruders over the back fence. I think they were supposed to be building something, but all I could hear was chattering and loud music. So disrespectful of locals! I found a good perch on our roof and watched them for much of the day. I think they found it unnerving. Maybe they'll be back tomorrow and I can look forward to terrorising them again!

I wanted to stay outside for the evening to see the eclipse of the moon tonight, but Ellen locked me inside and wouldn't let me out again so I missed it.

Back in the garden

Oh, JOY, rapture. Today is the most glorious day and I've been frolicking in my garden.

Vale Fox

We heard today that Fox sadly didn't make it through his operation this afternoon. He was a gentle, loving, long-haired Himalayan fluffball, who was Lita's best friend. May the cat gods take care of his soul.

Tales of blood

Just wanted to let you know that Fox's blood count is better today, so Beth's black-and-tabby blood services won't be necessary until perhaps tomorrow.

For an alternate account of yesterday's adventures (in which I am portrayed like the veritable devilcat I am trying so very hard not to be), see Tracey's blog here.

A close shave

Of all the things I had planned to do this afternoon (sleeping), it was not to spend over two hours in my carry case being poked and prodded by a bunch of strangers.

You'd think I go to the vet enough, without being dragged there when I'm perfectly fine. It's not like it's a treat for being good, or anything. (And I have been very good of late.) And it's not like we don't have a vet at the end of the street instead of a half-hour car-ride away. Sheesh!

So I get dragged to the Animal Emergency Centre -- right in the middle of a very pleasant dream, I might add -- and first up I'm forced to say hello to some grey matron-cat called Beth. She seemed OK, not sick at all. And as I've already said, I was fine. So why were we here?

And THEN Ellen tells me that the reason we're here is to see whether I'm a blood-match for Fox, who as I already mentioned in a previous post is sick and might need a transfusion.

Oh boy. That cowed me, because Lita was there too and she looked really sad. And Beth was being brave, so I let them take me away. No way was I going to be the pathetic scardey cat -- even though my heart was pounding a mile a minute and I couldn't help growling a bit. And then I heard Ellen tell them I could be vicious, which I thought was a bit rich when I was trying so hard.

They came over to my cage and checked me out, and although I only spat and hissed a little bit -- the tiniest amount -- they backed off pretty quickly. I couldn't help feeling rather pleased at that. Maybe it's worth having a bad reputation sometimes!

So they started on Beth first, and she just let them do whatever they wanted. They prodded and poked and shaved a patch of fur off! then stuck in the biggest needle you've ever seen and drew out some blood!

Well, that tore it, because no way did I want any of that to happen to me . . . yet I had to remember that Fox is sick and Lita is Ellen's and my friend . . .

In the end, it turned out that Beth was both a good match for Fox and, being bigger than me, a better size for donating blood. This meant the vet staff (who had been giving my cage a wide berth, because I'd growl at them if they came too close) persuaded Lita and Ellen not to have me tested. Despite my thinking them pathetic scardey cats, I confess I was rather relieved. I mean, I would have done it (scratching and biting), but I'd much rather not have a shaved patch on my neck for the next few weeks, thank you very much!

So I came home unscathed (and unshaved) after all that. Poor Fox will still have his surgery and Beth will donate blood if required. I'll keep you posted as to their progress, and give thanks to the cat gods for my deliverance.

Welcoming committee

I find it quite astounding how slowly humans move.

Take this for example: Ellen comes home and I greet her from the other side of the garage door. "Hello, hello," I say. "Have you had a nice day?"

"Hello, chickie," she says. (This, for some weird reason, is what she often calls me.) "Are you locked outside again?"

Now you'd think, if she thought that, that she'd open the garage door so I could go inside with her. Wouldn't you? But she doesn't. Instead, she opens the front door of the house, and I have to go all the way around to the back door to get inside. (Luckily my catdoor isn't stuck.)

By the time she gets the key in the door and nudges it open, I'm there waiting for her! All I do is jog. I'm not even out of breath! It's like she opens the door in slow-motion, or something.

A poem

white intruder skulking

dark skies over driveway again
white fluffball arrives, struts about
looking pathetic and sly
the only curious part--that intruder
skulking near silence
where feline awaits

now white intruders fade
into dark beginnings
then feline once more

by Chenna

Feline wisdom

"I've met many thinkers and many cats, but the wisdom of a cat is infinitely superior."
Hippolyte Taine

Get well soon, Fox

We heard today that Lita's feline friend Fox is very ill. He may need me to donate some blood (gulp), but I'll do it if he needs me to. I've never met Fox, but we correspond from time to time through Ellen and Lita. I consider him and Niles my friends.

Get well soon, Fox. We're thinking of you.

Take your clever kitty and . . .

Read this. Never was I more insulted in all my life. "Your cat can be trained to do tricks," they say. Well I'm not doing any tricks, that's for sure. If Ellen tries this on me, she won't know what's hit her!

Almost an angel

I promised a full report of the week at the island. I must say I was a VERY good girl for the whole week. Even when Ellen had friends there, I behaved myself. I didn't attack anyone, I slept quietly on a chair, ate when food was offered . . .

. . . well, OK I might have taken a swipe at one of Ellen's friends, but he shouldn't have come so close. What can I say? I like my space. I'm quite happy to coexist with humans, so long as they leave me alone. Unless I'm begging them for attention; then it's OK to get close!

I even used my litter tray for the entire week. Ellen got the idea eventually and changed it every two days. It did take a spot of illegal urination -- on the carpet in her parents' bedroom -- for her to get the message though. She really was not too happy I did that. But I went down to the litter tray, scratched around in it, and just couldn't bring myself to use it. Anyway, she had to clean it up in the early hours of the morning. She poured something called 'Carpet Power' on it, and it seemed to do the trick. After that, she changed the litter quite regularly!

The days in the house were quite idyllic, really. On the sunny days, Ellen opened the doors onto the deck and I was able to get out and breathe fresh air, feel the sun on my shoulders. Very pleasant.

So I survived the week, as you see. Even the long drive there and back -- I even managed to sleep at one point! No dramas at all. I am very happy to be home again though, able to patrol my garden and torment the other cats in the driveway. Nevertheless, going on holiday is getting less and less traumatic each time.

Happy to be home

Coming home is always wonderful. I couldn't believe it when we pulled up outside the house. I was itching to get out of my carry case, but when I did I couldn't decide what to do first!

Since it was dinner time, hunger made me eat as a priority, but after that I was free to run outside and explore the garden, and the front driveway, and every room in the house . . .

Finally I could go outside.

I did go outside a bit at the island, but these adventures were confined to the large upstairs deck from which I couldn't escape. But on the sunny days, it was very pleasant to lounge about and at least watch the birds, even if I couldn't chase them. (Anyway, they were too stupid to know that I couldn't get them, so I had fun terrorising them from afar.)

So now everything is back to normal.

Bags packed

I just found out that we're going to the island on a holiday for a whole week! I don't know whether to be apprehensive, or grateful that I'm not getting left behind on my own. Will post a full report upon our return in a week.

Spoil sport

Had a new toy for a very short time. My mistake was sneaking inside with it. E got the wind up and worked out I was being sneaky. She crept over and snatched away my new toy and took it outside before I was done playing with it!

How did she know I had a toy? Maybe it was the way I bolted into a secret corner . . . Toys that move are so cool. If she had have been nice about it, I would have let her play too.

Instead, she's such a spoil sport.

In the dark

Something is going on. I can sense it. Am I being paranoid?

Winter woes

We are having a very cold and wet winter. I don't go outside much at the moment. Instead I stay inside all day on my cushion. And right now I am happily curled up on Ellen's lap. So comfy and warm, even if she will clack away at the computer for hours -- I can hardly get her to focus on my blog!

Yesterday, though, my door got stuck and I was trapped outside all day! It was very miserable. Not even the knowledge that white fluffball was similarly afflicted could make it worthwhile. I was so happy when Ellen came home!

Still got short whiskers

The vet newsletter today was about feline obesity. I'm really worried Ellen is going to put me on a diet again. I saw her looking closely at my whiskers to see if they'd grown longer. As you probably know, my whiskers are exactly as wide as me. You'd think I would know if they'd grown longer and I can tell you they haven't! It's bad enough having to eat the bladder-friendly food, without being on a diet.

If only she loved me

You would think that if Ellen really loved me, she'd let me chew her wrist. Wouldn't you? All I want is to be near her, but whenever I jump up on her desk she bats me away. I don't think she loves me at all.

Making a point

This morning, just to show that I am no problem cat (hissss), I used my litter tray. I could have gone on the floor, because the litter was, after all, not brand new and clean . . . but I didn't. Normally I would wait until E opened the cat door and go outside. But not today!

Problem cat

Ellen is threatening to purchase this book and apply the principles. I confess I'm miffed.

See here for more information.

My cry is heard!

Someone has finally heard me! That Scribbly is an absolute champion. Friend for life. Almost as good as Cheeky.

See Scribbly's letter to me here.

I am considering her suggestion that I save for an airfare to attend Madame Adelaide Bonfamille's mansion in Paris, which has been set up as a cat refuge/resort/spa (for unwanted, undeserved and maltreated cats). I will research the topic.

PS - Dear Scribbly, thanks for your letter! It's nice to have someone on my side for once. I'm going to make Ellen rent out the Aristocats movie, because I have never even seen it!

Peruvian penpal

Ellen's friend Lita has found me a Peruvian penpal! His name is Cheeky.

I think Ellen is feeling guilty about Leonidas (the usurper snow leopard), so she thought she'd better encourage me to have a life of my own. But I have to say she's done well here! He's a fine feline specimen, isn't he! Far better looking than the dreadful ginger cat down the driveway. I daresay I shall dream of Cheeky tonight.

Ellen says that Cheeky is keeping Lita company at the hostel where she's staying in Cusco, Peru. (I wonder how far away that is? Do you think I'll ever meet Cheeky?) Lita took this photo out her window.

Leonidas the usurper

I am at my wits' end. I don't know what to do. Ellen has taken one of those daemon tests and found out her daemon is a snow leopard! A beautiful cuddly white (rather attractive actually) snow leopard called Leonidas. How can I compete with that?

It's all the fault of these blasted books by some stupid fantasy author, who wrote about a world where humans have animal familiars that are across between their soul and a best friend. They say that in our world they're invisible, but they're there. Now that I know, how will I ever feel secure again? She could dump me anytime for her invisible gorgeous snow leopard.

Leonidas. I hate him! I'm Ellen's best friend. How could she do this to me?

To dream of golden fishes

This is what the fish look like in China. Can you imagine a place where the fish (licks lips) look like this? The cats there must be so fat. Just looking at this picture makes me salivate and drool. I can barely think straight. I will dream tonight of golden fishes.

But why are these fish acting so demented?

Boring weekend

I have had the most BORING weekend.

Normally on weekends, I get to have some company. Not that I want company all the time, mind you, but every once in a while it is nice to have someone to talk to other than the stupid possums and cats in the driveway (who I wouldn't want to talk to anyway).

But this weekend? Company? NO! I was abandoned for the entire three days (for it was a long weekend). Yesterday I had to wait until midnight to get some food! And now she goes back to work tomorrow, and I'll be left home alone again.

Doesn't she realise that I need diversion and entertainment?

Did you know . . .?

I'm copying this from the vet newsletter, and Ellen might get sued, but that'll be her problem.

A cat can jump as much as seven times its height.
A cat will never break into a sweat because it has no sweat glands.
A cat’s sense of taste is keener than a dog’s sense of taste.
A group of adult cats is called a clowder.
A group of kittens is called a kindle.
A cat will spend nearly 30% of its life grooming itself.

Canine for a worthy cause

Survived the weekend with Jeddah. One of the highlights was watching him terrorize the other cats in the driveway -- white fluffball and ginger cat both scampered away like kittens!

As for me and Jeddah, well, we get along OK. He knows who's boss, that's for sure. So long as he doesn't get in my way, he doesn't get hurt.

I was a bit miffed, though, that he monopolised my garden all day. It's much better now he's gone. But for what he did to those other moron cats . . . definitely worth it!

Uninvited guest

Great. Jeddah is here.

I bet he invited himself; Ellen would never, that's for sure!

Apparently he's staying for the entire weekend. How come HE got to sit on the sofa with his head in Ellen's lap all evening?

1/2 a measly cup

I seem to be on a diet again. It's the only way I can explain the lack of FOOD. For a few months, all I had to do was smooch and grovel -- plus throw in the occasional scratch-attack -- and food would appear. But now the extra has stopped again. Doesn't she know it's winter and I need MORE food, not less? How I am supposed to survive on 1/2 a measly cup of food per day? I need to keep up my strength!

Ants

The past few days, I've been plagued by ants in my food bowl. Who do they think they are, the itty bitty bastards? There have been thousands of the creepy crawly critters, swarming all over my food.

It made me vomit.

It's also made me wonder, though, what they think they're trying to achieve? It's not like they can really carry individual food pellets. Are they trying to break bits off and carry them away? Or do they plan to team up and become pall bearers -- four ants per coffin . . . er, I mean food pellet?

More to the point, I thought ants only came out when rain was coming (and there's been little sign of rain . . . ). Where do they come from? Where do they go? WHY do they like MY food?

Farewell Oscar

Oscar has moved away. Out of our driveway. Out of our life.

Believe it or not, I'm sad. Although we weren't exactly friends, and had our share of hissy fit stand-offs, Oscar and I were united in our hatred of the ginger cat. I hope he didn't have anything to do with her leaving.

One day we might have been friends. I'll miss her.

Still yuck

The moisturiser called me again this morning. It's been a few months since they changed the recipe, but it's been luring me nevertheless. After all, Ellen smears it all over her face, and I like licking her face, don't I?

This morning, I braced myself and took a lick before she put the cap back on. (She's become slack since I've been disinterested.)

Still yuck.

Bits of bright plastic

The strangest thing happened tonight. Ellen had a bunch of friends over, plus a lady I didn't know, and they sat about staring and oogling at pieces of brightly coloured plastic.

Every so often one of her friends would pick up one of these vibrant objects, stroke it reverantly, peer at it from all sides, then put it down again. It was like they were worshipping at a temple or something.

I have absolutely no idea what was going on.

A lesson in hygiene

As punishment for all that illegal urination, Ellen has refused to upload any of my posts for the past week or so. In fact I'm rather surprised she's relented today, because I haven't been totally good in the last couple of days.

We went to the island for a holiday, and I was very good until the last afternoon when I weed on the floor again. What Ellen doesn't understand is that if I must use a litter tray, then it needs to be 100% clean litter.

After all, she flushes the toilet every time she goes --- so why should I be any different? She just needs to change the litter every day and then it won't happen.

I guess it didn't help that it happened about half an hour before she wanted to leave for home. Well, I just COULDN'T hold on any longer! She'll just have to get with the program next time.

She was probably also a bit annoyed that I gave her a huge gouge on the arm that bled everywhere and now might be infected (it looks almost like she tried to slit her wrists). Her fault. She should have just allowed me to sleep in her mother's linen closet. Simple!

Anyway, I enjoyed the trip to the island this time, because that awful dog Jeddah wasn't there. It meant I had the run of the place, and I explored the balcony a bit.

Ellen cleaned like a madwoman before we left (even before she learned of my little contribution downstairs . . .) to make sure she vacuumed up every last possible speck of my fur --- not that either of us could see a speck. She was just been cautious.

Getting on top of things

It's been a tough week and a half, but I think I'm on top of things now. The pills have stopped and I haven't urinated inappropriately for a few days. (Ellen seems to be talking to me again.)

Pushing the boundaries

In the past couple of days I have weed on Ellen's digital scales (that'll teach her to tell me I'm fat!) and on the floor beside the couch. She is still making me take a pill everyday -- although I think today is the last day.

Oh, and I also threw up all my food and a hairball.

It's been fun watching Ellen crawl around the floor every evening, nose to the floor, paper towel in hand, searching for my latest deposit. I think she's getting a bit sick of it though. If I don't watch myself, I might find myself booted out of home!

But I don't really think she'll do that, because when she's not grumbling, she's giving me cuddles, and telling me I'm beautiful.

That's when I attack her hand!

A smelly welcome

Today I weed on the floor at the front door. Needless to say, Ellen was not happy. I don't know what's wrong with me :-(

I also had a bit of a stoush with the ginger cat. He's so much bigger than me, but I reckon I can get him! Ellen tells me not to be so stupid.

She is still making me take a pill every day.

Sleepyhead

Still not feeling great today. This new food is taking some getting used to as well. All I seem to want to do is sleep.

From bad to worse

I did it again. No sooner had we posted the previous entry on Thursday evening, than I did it again. Weed on the rug. Ellen has never sworn at me as she did that night.

I felt awful.

I truly did feel awful . . . there was blood in my urine and it was painful. I half expected to be whisked off to the vet the next day -- that's the usual pattern. But for once I was saved the trauma. Friday passed uncomfortably, but uneventfully . . .

This morning I weed on the floor at the foot of Ellen's bed (and I think her runners might have been in the way). I couldn't help it. I just felt so awful and Ellen needed to know how bad I felt. That's why I did it somewhere obvious.

She seemed to take it better this morning. Cleaned it up then got on the phone and went out for the morning. I thought I was safe. But then she suddenly came home and got the carry cage down and then we were at the vet!

Damn and blast, I HATE going to the vet. We saw Dr Jenny today. I've seen her a few times in the past when I've had bladder problems. (For some reason I seem to get this all the time.) They talked about me as though I wasn't even in the room. Dr Jenny seemed to think it could be stress related. Ellen wondered whether it was because she kept leaving me home alone all the time (yeah - I hope she goes on believing that) and Dr Jenny wondered whether it was due to my battles with the invaders up and down the driveway. She's cluey that Dr Jenny. She noticed the slight wound on my nose where ginger must have landed a swipe, and drew her own conclusions. (However, my battles make me feel exhilarated, not stressful. Go figure.)

Then she jabbed me with a needle THREE TIMES. It turns out I was duped into having vaccinations as well. When we got home, Ellen made me take a pill.

I have spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation. Going to the vet really takes it out of you!

Now it turns out I have to have special food to try to prevent my urinary tract infection from happening again. I confess I too would be pleased if we could rid me of this weakness. The new food tastes OK. And it should be nice to have something different for a change. I wonder how it'll fit in with my so-called diet?

I don't know what made me do it

I'm in Ellen's bad books this evening.

I don't know what made me do it, but I urinated on the carpet. Now all she can do is scowl at me and ask me why I did it. She's barely said anything else to me all evening.

Then, for a moment she'll forget and say hello . . . and then she remembers again and the shadow comes back over her face.

I really don't know what made me do it. I wonder if she'll ever speak to me again? Will she ever forgive me?

. . . Nope. She still hasn't forgiven me.

Patience proved pointless

I was very patient this morning. It was 8:30 before I woke Ellen up (a claw in the cheek works wonders) and she gave me part 1 of breakfast, but then she went on and slept until 12:00 midday!

What a lazy sleepyhead.

Anyway, I waited and waited for her to wake up and give me part 2 of breakfast.

And then she had the temerity to blame me for letting her sleep in so long. "I thought I could count on you to wake me up!" she said. Well, I never. I would have expected some gratitude!

Five days

Geez, she left me for five whole days this time. Not nice.

I did get some fleeting visits from a few people, but that was all. They breezed in (I hid under the bed) and pretended all was normal and fine, and then they breezed out again. I think they opened my door some of the time, but I was never game to try it out, in case they didn't let me back in again. So I spent a whole five days INSIDE!

And that stupid feeding contraption is so unreliable! Thanks goodness I had visitors who seemed to go out of their way to provide me with food, because there were no guarantees otherwise. Seeing the food, but not being able to get it, would have been worse than ANY diet!

As a result I was on my BEST behaviour when the visitors came (which is why I hid under the bed).

I note that now Ellen is home, she's removed the feeding contraption, so I suppose the diet will resume again. She tells me that one of the reasons my food kept running out was because I ate too much. Hmmph.

PS As punishment for being left alone for five whole days, I declined to use my litter tray once and went on the floor in Ellen's study. It was so funny watching her crawl around the room sniffing, trying to work out where it was! She found it eventually, and she didn't even tell me off! I think she's feeling guilty.

PPS Ellen has assured me this is the last time for a long time that she'll leave me home alone. I sure hope so!

wheely case

Oh, no! The wheely case is out!

I'm being left home alone AGAIN!

Intruder AGAIN

It's been a frustrating evening. That blasted ginger cat is strutting around outside in MY GARDEN on MY DECK, while I am locked inside. I even saw him drink from my water bowl. It will now have to be replaced.

There is nothing more provoking. I bet it would be a different case all together if I could get out and chase him off.

Food on tap

First she tells me I'm on a diet, then she puts down some fantastic new contraption that spews food out all the time. I've eaten so much today, I'm sure I'll explode.

I just don't get it.

Autumn

Autumn is here. It's cold and it's raining. I know that's a good thing for a region in drought, but I can't help but reflect on those glorious days in the sun, when I would lie in the dirt, or on the deck, and soak up the heat . . . or when I would curl up in the shade of the hydrangea and listen to the world around me.

Now I get dripped on and everywhere is wet and dirty. And it's getting cold. Much better to curl up on my cushion and sleep inside.

Driveway daydreaming

Feeling better today. Have eaten most of my food.

For the first time in months I slept on my cushion by the window. It's an excellent spot -- incredibly comfortable and provides an excellent vantage point for looking down the driveway. For the past four years it's been my favourite spot in all the world. I can't think why I've avoided it recently. It was wonderful to be back.

I was there when Ellen came home today. It allowed me to witness the most delicious incident when she almost ran over both the ginger cat and white fluffball. Oh the joy, the rapture! But, alas, she drove slowly and those stupid animals (which were sauntering down the middle of the driveway) finally deigned to saunter out of the way.

One day, ESP will work.

Life sucks

Life sucks at the moment. I don't feel well. I can't eat. Last night I vomited, and this morning my bowels . . . well, let's just say they're not up to scratch and everything is runny.

Ellen keeps asking me if I'm all right. Can't she see I'm NOT? I try to explain exactly how terrible I'm feeling, and all she does is rattle the food bowl and ask me why I'm not eating. Can't she see I'm NOT HUNGRY?

Well, she wanted me on a diet . . .

And now there's an intruder in my garden so I can't even go outside. I think I'll just sulk inside for the rest of the day.

Fat cat

I got weighed today and I'm 4.8kg. Ellen says that's too heavy, so she's put me on a diet. Sheesh! Just because SHE'S on a diet! What's she going to subject me to? Weightwatchers for cats? Does that mean 22 pellet-points per day (or whatever)?

I AM NOT FAT!

The island - Day 3 (Monday)

By the third day I was starting to feel more at home, although Jeddah still made me nervous. I think I would like to spend a weekend at the island without Jeddah -- it would be so much more relaxing!

Anyway, I spent most of the day in Ellen's room again. By the time she shoved me in my cage for the trip home, I was ready to go. It wasn't nearly so frustrating on the way home, because I knew we were headed home! It still took nearly 2 hours, but it was so wonderful to finally have my space back.

Thankfully, Ellen fed me straight away, because my appetite had been really off all weekend.

In all, it was an interesting experience. Character building. I hope it doesn't happen again for a while. There's just been too much upheaval in my life of late!

Howl

Excuse the interruption, but that stupid ginger cat is on MY DECK! RIGHT NOW! Ellen has me confined inside, but what wouldn't I give to shoot out my door and give that whiskerless no-hoper what for! Instead, all I can do is howl at him through the plastic. I wish he would GO AWAY!

The island - Day 2 (Sunday)

I spent most of the day in Ellen's room. Even when everyone else went out for a walk for the entire morning, I was quite content to sleep under the bedcovers. An ideal Sunday morning snooze.

Ellen got her computer out in the afternoon, and I ventured out into the living room to explore. She also made me go outside! This made me very edgy, since who knows what might be out there? The fences are all wire and transparent, and there's zero protection. I would be mad to let my guard down like I do at home. (In MY GARDEN it's quite different, because I know every smell, every sound, every tremor. I can detect danger a mile off.)

I had vowed not to use my litter tray all weekend, but it began to get a bit difficult to hold on, and Ellen worked it out when I ventured into the bath. (At home, that's an acceptable option, because at least it's easy to clean -- Although Ellen still swears at me when I do that.) However, at the island it sparked a battle between us, and (after I drew blood) she THREW me into the downstairs bathroom and locked me in! She actually stood there holding the door closed! This proved to be a good idea though, because I knew there was no way she'd let Jeddah in, and I felt secure.

It was such a relief to let it all out. Even though I missed the tray and it went all over the floor. Ellen wasn't too happy about that, because she had to clean it all up, but at least I tried to use the litter tray! The problem is that I'm out of practice, since I have a whole garden at home. After holding on for over 24 hours, I felt like a new feline! I was finally able to eat, although my appetite for the entire holiday was quite low.

Poor Ellen has quite a few new scratches on her wrists. I don't know what strangers think about that. She didn't try to lock me away on the Sunday night, so I slept in her bed again. She had the light on almost all night! I think she was reading.

The island - Day 1 (Saturday)

When Ellen bundled me into my carry case, I had no idea where we were going. It took FOREVER to get there! I tried to talk to Ellen the whole way down, but she ignored me for the most part. The car went fast and bumped a lot. I couldn't see out the window, which was really frustrating.

When we finally arrived early afternoon, she stuffed all my gear into a tiny bathroom--carry case, food bowl and litter tray! I was so grumpy with her that I wouldn't come out of the carry case. I stayed there for hours, seething and (OK, I admit it) terrified. But Jeddah was there, running around as if he owned the place! He had the advantage. For all I knew there were more predators just waiting to attack me!

Finally I ventured upstairs after dinner (not that I ate much, my stomach was fluttering like a mad butterfly). Man, was it way cool upstairs! The space is massive, and I felt like an idiot for cowering downstairs all afternoon. I found Ellen's bedroom and decided to hang about in there.

She tried to lock me in that awful bathroom for the night! Why would she do that? She never locks me up at night. I suppose it might have been her mum that made her, but she could have shown some backbone! Anyway, I am too canny for that, and I escaped the bathroom and called to Ellen outside her bedroom door. She let me in, and thankfully let me sleep with her. It was almost like it was at home (but Jeddah was still around somewhere).

So that was the first day. I will tell you about Day 2, perhaps tomorrow.

Survived!

I survived the holiday.

We are home again now and it is so wonderful to be back, with that pesky dog Jeddah anywhere but here. I have spent the day lounging in the dirt, patrolling the rooftops, sleeping under the Hydrangea . . . and NOT using my litter tray!!

I can eat again, finally.

Actually, it wasn't that bad, once I got used to it. And I am going to tell you about it, day by day, but just let me enjoy being home again first!

Holiday

OMG, I've just found out that I'm going on a holiday with Ellen this weekend! I'm all at once terrified and excited. I would much prefer she take me with her than leave me all alone again, but why oh why can't she just stay at home for once?

Apparently we're going to a new holiday house. I just know she's going to keep me inside all weekend. (To be fair, I'll probably cower under the bed all weekend.) And she tells me JEDDAH is going to be there as well. Sheesh. And she wonders why I'm in therapy.

I'm so stressed I threw up my dinner.

Abandoned again

OMG it happened again! Ellen went away and left me - this time for two whole nights. Next time I see a wheelie case, I'm stowing away.

Helen came and fed me this time, once on Saturday morning and then Saturday evening. I had to wait until nearly midday on Sunday for Ellen to come home and feed me after that.

To make sure Ellen didn't sneak off again, I followed her around for the rest of the day on Sunday. Every time I heard the front door open or close, I ran to see. She did leave at about 2:30, and I almost panicked, but she came back again at about 5:00.

How can she do this to me? She knows I'm neurotic enough already; she doesn't need to add to it. This will probably end up with me having yet another case of cystitis and FLUTD - for nearly the 10th time. Well, she can damn well pay the vet fees.

I slept all evening on her lap, while she watched crappy tv. I couldn't help it. I wanted to be near her. Now I'm in perpetual dread that she'll do it again.

on the prowl

Ha! Got to stay out late again tonight. Ellen went out and instead of locking me in, I was out on the prowl. Sooo much nicer than being cooped up inside with nothing to do. I often see my neighbours (primarily white fluffball and ginger cat from down the drive, but also Oscar sometimes) out and about in the driveway after dark. It's like they're having a party but didn't invite me!

Meals on wheels

I am now ready to tell you about last week's trauma. Don't worry -- I didn't lose a limb or get squashed by a car or anything . . . nothing so bloody. But I did get abandoned for 36 hours, with the only contact being meals on wheels.

Ellen has done this before -- gone away on a work trip overnight, leaving me alone in the house -- and I hate it! It's bad enough that she leaves me home all day, without my having lonely evenings as well. And although she does warn me that she's not coming home, I never quite believe it.

Every evening I listen out for her to come home from work, and I'm there to welcome her! So I always get a shock when someone else opens the door instead. The first time it was her parents. I think her mum's afraid of me. I'm sure she doesn't like me. We rub each other up the wrong way. (And she always smells like that rotten dog, Jeddah.) I stay with Ellen's parents from time to time and they let me do what I want, which is nice. (Last time, they left a window open the whole time so I could go out all night!)

Then they went away, closed my cat door and left me to my own devices. Boring! A whole evening with nothing to do (except chase moths).

In the morning, Lita came to feed me. Lita is a cat person -- I can tell. She talks to me as an equal. I like that. She also lives with cats -- I can smell them. I wonder if they'd be nicer than those rotten furballs that live in my driveway? Anyone would be better than them. I try to be nice to Lita, but I think she's a bit wary of me as well. I must have swiped at her in the past. Maybe even drew blood. I was friendly to her this time though. I want her to like me again.

When Lita left, at least she opened my door again, so I could go outside. Ellen came home that night -- thanks to the great fluffball in the sky! She looked really tired and did nothing but watch TV for ages, but at least she let me sleep on her lap :-)

Another fluffball almost hits the dust

There's this white fluffball feline that lives halfway down the driveway (on the other side of Oscar's house). I often watch her lounge about in the driveway, paying total disregard to whose garden she's in. She acts as if she OWNS the place (I think it's a she).

Anyway, this morning, Ellen almost ran her over in the car! I was watching from inside, and that stupid animal actually sauntered across in front of the car, so that Ellen actually had to stop for it!

I tried using ESP to get Ellen to run her over - it would have served her right - but it didn't work. Damn and bother!

At least she's never ventured into MY garden.

Cat and mouse

I finally found out why a computer mouse is called a mouse. (Although, it's more the size of a rat, really.) Anyway, you can play with it much as you do a mouse - it even has a long tail. The weird thing is that it even produces squeaking . . . although the squeaking comes mainly from Ellen as she tries to bat me away. Something about changing things on her computer?

Geez, you'd think she'd let me have some fun. She sits there, hour after hour, staring at the computer screen - caressing that damn mouse - you'd think she'd at least let me have fun with it too!

If she spoils my fun too much, I just chew on her wrist.

Squashed kitty . . .

. . . well, almost.

It's all Ellen's fault for balancing a suitcase on a stack of junk (in fact, other suitcases) in her spare wardrobe. She should KNOW that I often go in there to play/sleep/hide and that it's dangerous having a case that could fall on top of me. I could have been killed.

Luckily I heard it shift and I ran away before it fell. But, gee, it was a close call! She would be very sorry if it squashed me.

Bowled over by breakfast

A few weeks ago, Ellen starting eating cereal for breakfast. Now, every morning, she sits down at the table to eat. Naturally, I jump up on the table (to keep her company).

I'm sure it must be written down somewhere that all cats like special K. It's a given. So I cannot understand why Ellen doesn't let me have special K for breakfast too. Worse, she makes me eat on the floor (and don't get me started on those monstrous anti-hairball pellets she's got me on at the moment -- just because they were FREE).

Don't you think it would make more sense if we shared a bowl for breakfast? Less washing up, course. And such a companionable activity. She must know that I'd much rather a bowl of special K and milk. So tasty. But she won't let me near it. None of my tricksy head smooching manoeuvres will work. Every so often I get just close enough to inhale, and then she's batted my head away again.

It's just NOT FAIR!!

Stalking huntsman

Ellen says I have to write something here, but I really can't be bothered. It's not like the past few days have been eventful or anything. A couple of really hot days, during which I slept under my favourite hydrangea bush; and then it turned colder, which gave me more energy to patrol MY GARDEN and keep that pesky Oscar out. I keep seeing her more and more! She thinks she's so cute with her grey fluffy coat. And I know she goes out of way to be nice to people, just to spite me. I hate her.

Tonight we have a huntsman on the wall up high. I am waiting for it to come down so I can pounce upon it.

Day from hell

There is simply no other way to describe it, but the day from hell. First, Jeddah was around ALL DAY. He was there when I woke up, there when I woke up again; in fact, he was there the third, fourth, fifth and sixth times I woke up.

I couldn't even get outside, so I had to use my litter tray for the first time in over 6 months. Now Ellen will have to clean it.

All day Jeddah ran about outside in MY GARDEN, taking up MY SPACE.

To cap it all off, Ellen had people around this evening. TEN of them! More invasion of my space. That stupid dog, Jeddah, barked at every second person who arrived. What's with that? Every second person?

Finally he got taken away, but the other invaders were still there so I escaped over the back fence. At least I got to stay out until much later than normal. Ellen's a lot more lenient when she has people over. I'm stuck inside now, though. But at least Jeddah and everyone else is finally GONE and I can have my house back to myself.

Unappreciated slumber party

Aaaagh! Jeddah is here again, and this time he's staying the WHOLE NIGHT! He came around in the morning and invaded MY GARDEN and now he's asleep in the living room. All day and evening I've had to creep around, hoping he doesn't notice me . . . it's not that I'm scared, but I really do prefer not to be chased and pounced on. Far too much effort required in running away.

And he's always so darned happy.

Five star kitty

I've been very good recently. Only the occasional wrist-gnawing and breakfast-chucking (can cats be bullemic?) episode.

This morning, I was very kind to Ellen. She was reading in bed and I crawled in under the quilt and snuggled into her side. Like a little hot water bottle.

I have attacked her feet a few times though. I can't be good all the time.

And I think I chased Oscar out of the garden as well.

But I have spent a lot of time on Ellen's lap. Surely that makes up for everything?

Chenna before keyboard

I long ago worked out that if I sit on top of Ellen's keyboard, she can't do anything about it. It makes her do one of two things:

> she either shoves the keyboard away under her computer (there's a drawer) and allows me to smooch her;

> or she sits back and allows me to sit on her lap while she tries to type.

Either way, I can chew on her wrist. This evening, I sit on her lap as she types this, chewing her wrist. It's a sign of love and endearment, don't you know?

Jeckle and Hyde

I don't know what's wrong with me. Just gave Ellen a big cuddle, then sunk my teeth into her wrist. I couldn't help it!

Maybe I really do need therapy.

An apology

I was very ungracious yesterday. Ellen's little niece Hannah came to visit, bringing me toys she'd made herself out of coloured pipecleaners. They were beautiful, and I couldn't help watching as she rolled them across the floor. But I was sleeping and sulking, fed up with the rain that was keeping me indoors and out of my garden. So I didn't get up to play with them.

Hannah is really rather adorable, and she always comes to say hello to me. But I just don't know how to act with other people! They always want to stroke me and touch me and talk to me. Usually, I just want them to leave me alone.

I lashed out at Hannah when she came to say goodbye. I wish I hadn't done that. Now she'll really be scared of me. I'm glad I didn't actually get her. She looked very sombre. Do you think she'll still be my friend?

Oscar the tormentor

Oscar was asking for it again last night, but lucky for her, she was on the other side of the window. I really don't see why SHE gets to hang around outside all night, while I have to stay indoors. There she was, grey fluffball, perched on the stepping stones in MY GARDEN right outside Ellen's bedroom window. Bathed in the glow of reflected light. (Nothing so romantic as moonlight.)

Really not fair. All I could do was hiss at her a few times, but she only cast a disdainful glance in my direction and sprawled out in the cool of the night.

I hate her.

Bloodquest

This evening I attacked Ellen and drew blood. Mainly on her hands, but some on her ankles as well.

She cried.

She's such a sook.

Canine invasion

Jeddah invaded us this afternoon. Ellen really likes him, but I can't understand what she sees in him. He's always so HAPPY, and -- worse -- OBEDIENT!

He comes around and treats the place like it's his own . . . sprawls out on MY RUG and piddles (or worse) in MY GARDEN! I even heard he piddled on Ellen's lettuces!

Now I am extremely careful of things like that. You would NEVER catch me urinating on Ellen's veggie garden.

(Only in her birkenstocks, but that's another story . . .)

Finally he's gone and I have the place to myself again. But it's made me very irritable.

Butterfly effect

Last night I captured a butterfly and left it on the rug for Ellen to see. She thinks I meant it for a present, but that's a common misconception. Cats don't give presents. In truth, I left it there for a laugh to see what she'd do. It was quite disappointing really. She just picked it up by the wing and dropped it in the rubbish.

It certainly wasn't as good as when I left a dead rodent there last year. I will never forget her reaction that time!

But perhaps she's becoming immune to butterflies? The thing is, they're so much fun to catch. And this time of year, they're everywhere. Ah well, maybe I'd better see whether I can find another rodent . . .

Letter of complaint

Dear Proctor & Gamble

RE: Olay Complete recipe modification

WHY have you changed the recipe for Olay Complete SPF15? It has been my daily breakfast dessert for years, but suddenly it's DIFFERENT. Every morning for the past week, I've been in position right on time, judging perfectly my arrival from outside, only to find . . . it just doesn't do it for me anymore. It's like Eukanuba without the Eukanuba. Tuna without the tuna. (Chocolate without the chocolate.) Get my drift?

Could you please go back to the old recipe? Ellen hasn't noticed any difference with its moisturiser action, so for the sake of this furry feline's tastebuds . . .? Pleeeeease???

Best regards
Chenna Devilcat

Home alone

I hadn't realised how great it was to have Ellen home over the Christmas/New Year break. I've been home alone for two days now, and I'm going stir crazy. Today I got locked out of the house, and there was nobody to call, so I had to hang about in the garden all day. Lucky the weather was pleasant and not one of those stinkers -- or, worse, a day like Christmas day, where the central heating was on!

I wish she'd get the door fixed, so it doesn't get stuck all the time.

Hot and bothered

The past couple of days have been so HOT, that I've hardly had the heart to eat. I've spent most of the day sprawled out on the cool floorboards. I keep thinking I should eat, but when I look at it I feel like throwing up. This morning I did throw up, but it was a hairball.

I think I might be suffering from heatstroke or something. I hope I feel better tomorrow.

Oscar asking for it

Had a near incident with Oscar this evening. Oscar is our neighbour, a smallish grey and white long-hair that I suspect Ellen rather likes. She (Oscar is female, we think) has recently taken to coming into MY GARDEN. Just because her own garden is a weed-infested cage of concrete, I don't see why she should have to intrude on my space. Ellen doesn't seem to mind at all; in fact, she keeps telling me we should become friends. Friends! Cats don't HAVE friends! And even if we did, I certainly wouldn't be friends with her.

Anyway, I spotted Oscar on top of the garage roof, so I headed on up to chase her away. Ellen (watering the garden) yelled at me, and I thought she was going to turn the hose on us. Lucky she's in water-saving mode because of the drought. It was too hot to get really aggro though, so I just hissed at Oscar and she got the message.

As if I'd be her friend.

I'm staying on watch at the front door all evening to make sure she doesn't come back. A pity there's fly wire there, but at least I can howl at her through the mesh.

Morning sickness

Chucked up my breakfast again this morning. I wish Ellen would remember not to give me a whole scoop of food in one go! I forget to eat it slowly and I make myself sick.

It's much better if she feeds me less food, but more often. After all, she eats at least five times a day. Why can't I?