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 . . .