New neighbour

I've just found out that a new cat has moved in next door! She doesn't go outside much and seems to be a timid little thing. I can't decided whether to be friends or whether to terrorise. After all, I am rather used to considering the backyard next door as MY territory, even though that evil fluffy ginger cat comes a-wandering over from time to time. I must find out her name . . .

Check out those photos!

Ah yes, some delightful photos of ME below! You can see I really am quite at home down at the island. That deck is a marvellous place to go exploring -- the birds are really quite something.

Such a shame that Beth wasn't invited, though. I think her human was quite taken with me. (Witness all those photos she took!) We got along very well indeed, T and I. I think I only warned her against coming too close a couple of times, and I'm pretty sure I didn't draw any blood. We're now the best of friends -- she even fed me one morning when E was too lazy to get out of bed.

Maybe for my next holiday, I'll see if I can go visit T and Beth down by the swamp. I must admit I'm intrigued by some of Beth's tales, and I think such a well-travelled feline such as myself needs to go and witness such things first-hand. Some food for thought.

PS -- See, I said I didn't need to go on a diet!

A cat, some wine and a baby

Ellen has had a busy week and I haven't seen her much. However, I saw rather too much of her yesterday evening -- her and all her friends! A whole swarm of them came around to talk about books or something. But I didn't hear them talk much about books. All they seemed to do was eat and drink wine and yammer on about some baby that also came. That poor baby (I think I heard it was four weeks old) got passed round and around until I reckon just about everybody had a hold. Even I could have had a hold, if I'd wanted! Sheesh!

I stayed way clear, because those morons always try to befriend me. You'd think they'd have worked it out by now. I am not friendly! Anyway, I came in towards the end of the evening -- because it was goddamn freezing outside -- and found a nice warm lap to sit on. J is one of those who thinks he can tame me, and I let him think so for a short while. But then he started moving his arms, which was simply too much for me to put up with! So I growled and hissed, and eventually he went home so I had to curl up on Ellen's bed instead. It was a cold night!

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.

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!

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.