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!