Brave and bold - an adventure

It was Sunday. Ellen was having drinks in the driveway. I decided to be brave.

She left the front door open and so I too ventured out into the driveway. It was fun. At first I found a comfy spot beneath the bushes in the neighbour's front garden. From here I had a great view down the driveway, and could watch E with all her silly friends.

Then I decided to do some exploring. From unit 4, I stole stealthily down to the front grass and garden area of unit 3. Here, under the cover of shade of the lemon tree, I snooped around the garden, which was strangely fenced off by chicken wire.

Then I went even further. Emboldened by my success (and the lack of the usual driveway felines -- not sure where they were) I slunk into the garden of unit 2! This was the furthest I have ever progressed. Ellen and her silly friends were marvelling at my bravery. I even took advantage of the earth to . . . er . . . well I'm sure you can guess.

Alas, my adventure was interrupted by one of the silly neighbours thundering out the door and startling me. Just in case he brought with him Fluffy-no-ears or Zimmy-the-trespasser I scampered back to our own front door, where E let me inside.

After that I reclined on my cushion watching all from this splendorous comfort. Enough adventuring for one day.

Eye can still spy

We heard from Dr Chloe today and the FANTASTIC news is that after much debate among the various eye specialists at Animal Eye Care in Malvern, they have decided I get to keep my eye for the time being. Woo hoo!

It's not the end of the road yet, though. We will still be monitoring it carefully for any change, but they reckon it can't be cancerous yet, because if it were I'd probably be dead already. (Sobering thought.)

So, we go back in February for another check up and see what happens after that . . .

Caught on film

It's really getting a bit ridiculous. I could be forgiven for thinking Ellen doesn't live here any more. Last weekend she was away for four days straight, and then she went away again this weekend. She's home now, but I'm not talking to her.

Last weekend, she was away so long that Sal and Dave from unit 7 came by to feed me. Although Ellen had warned me they were coming, they took me a bit by surprise, because they brought in a video camera and filmed me! For most of the time I was on my best behaviour . . . but then I'm afraid I forgot and . . . well, let's just say I drew blood. Oops. And now there's proof. Maybe I'll post it as a 'how to be a devilcat' video!

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 . . .

Best weekend ever!

What a great couple of days! The only slight hiccup in my weekend of freedom came this evening when I chucked up my dinner in my bowl, so I had to wait for E to come home and feed me again. (Because, unlike some felines, I do NOT like to eat regurgitated foodstuffs if I can avoid it.)

But, otherwise, I had a fantastic time! There was the inevitable altercation with the evil ginger cat, plus I had some fun chuckling at White Fluffball, who's had his ears cut off. (I shouldn't laugh, I really shouldn't, particularly when I'm in danger of having my eye cut out! All we need is for Zimmy to lose his tongue and the driveway cats will resemble the three wise monkeys . . .) Anyway, I'd rather lose my ears than my eye . . . But I digress . . .

Home alone . . . no rules or regulations, no curfew . . . no noise to wake me up from snoozing. It really is a great life.

Now E's home though, I do rather like snuggling up and getting cuddles. It's the best of both worlds!

Cyclops soon?

Well, it looks like I'm not out of the woods yet. Here's the latest photo of my eye, taken last week. My specialist, Chloe, is in discussions with her colleague about whether or not they should rip it out. I'm trying not to think about it.

Bright lights!

Got dragged off to the eye specialist today. If it's not one thing, it's another. I'm either suffering home alone in silence, while E goes out socialising, or being shoved into the carrier and subjected to trauma.

And so today they turn all the lights down, luring me into a false sense of security, then they shine bright lights straight in my eye!! Sheesh. AND they take a gazillion photos of it, with the flash spearing me time and again. Hateful.

The only good to come out of it was the knowledge that it'll probably be six months before I get subjected to that again.

I heard Dr Chloe say that if the eye had been cancerous when she first saw it over a year ago, I would now be dead. So in view of that, she reckons it's not cancerous. Hmph. Cold comfort!

Battered & bruised

Feeling sorry for myself at present. The past couple of months have been lovely and peaceful (once Jeddah went home) but I had a bit of a run-in with the evil ginger cat yesterday.

I was feeling so battered and sore that I couldn't bring myself to get out of my cushion all evening -- not even when E got home and put my food out. She came over all scrunch-faced, wanting to know what was wrong, but it's not as though she understands when I speak is it? All I could do was growl menacingly when she started feeling around for broken bits.

Then she went outside and found all the fur on the deck and made squawking noises. For a few moments I thought she was going to drag me off to the vet. Like that would make me feel better? Humans are deluded. Praise the catgods, she didn't.

Anyway, by 1am I was so hungry I dragged myself over to the food bowl and then went into E's bed for the night.

Feeling better today, although still SORE. God I HATE that cat.

Farewell Chug

Chug moved away the other day. Much as he was a pesky little canine critter, I think I'll miss poking fun at him through the window.

Ah well, life goes on. There are still Fluffy and Zimmy to laugh at as the cars in the driveway play chicken!

dog rumour

The dog is still here. Ugh. However, I hear a rumour that he is going with E to the island this weekend, so maybe that means I'll get to stay here on my own. Bliss. Can't wait.

But what if I get dragged down there as well? I couldn't imagine anything worse. Whiskers crossed, I'll be spared the trauma and I'll get my house - and my garden - back.

Demented

Life sucks. I've been completely off my food with Jeddah here and now I'm starving.

How can one dog take over the place completely? Everything revolves around him. He STILL has pride of place on the sofa and now he hogs my garden all day as well. I can't even go outside unless I want to encounter the stupid mutt.

And - get this - Ellen keeps taking him for walks. I know for a fact she missed a netball game on the weekend because she felt sorry for the stupid dog. And so she came home especially for him and all he did was sleep! (Yeah well OK, so she also had some work to do, which was a ridiculous sense of priority.) AND she keeps picking up his poop. She's gone demented and soft.

After eating nothing all weekend I finally regained my appetite today, but I still managed to chuck half my food up again. Well, if this doesn't help me lose weight, I don't know what will!

Canine alert

Well, that's just great. Brilliant even. I've barely gotten over my pee problems and now I have to deal with Jeddah. He's here. In my house. For 10 days. 10 DAYS!

He came prancing in this evening all hoity toity, having just put poor little Chug next door in his place (never did I think to feel sorry for Chug!) and has made himself quite at home. He's got pride of position with Ellen on the sofa, snoring contentedly, and unless I want him to eat all my food, I have to get fed on the kitchen table.

I was so revolted by his presence that I spewed up all my food. I'm really not sure how I'm going to survive this week.

More pee problems

Not feeling too well today. It hurts to pee and to make sure Ellen knew about it I went in the bath -- just so she'd see it and know that I was miserable. It's the worst thing when this happens. It's back and forth between the litter tray and the bath and the shower, just to get some pee out. It's been so long since I've had this problem that I thought I was cured, but it would seem not.

Anyway, Ellen dragged me to the vet, and to be honest I didn't protest too much. We saw Dr Jenny, who is very familiar with my fragile bladder, and she gave me some anti-inflammatories and antibiotics, which will have Ellen shoving pills down my throat for the next week at least. But at least I feel a bit better.

A side-effect is that I'm back on the urinary food and off the 'obesity management' diet -- woo hoo! Although I'm not sure for how long. (You'd think it would teach them not to put me on a diet?!) I have a feeling that Dr Jenny and Ellen are concocting something between them in that department, though. They've even tried me on wet food this evening - strange stuff indeed. Not sure whether I like it or not yet.

Latest photo of my eye

Still got my eye

The good news is that I get to keep my eye for another three months at least! Went to the specialist this evening (and I behaved extremely well, I might add), and once again suffered Dr Rachel and her accomplice to shine bright lights into my eye, and poke it and prod it, and take photos of it. Not pleasant! And I didn't scratch once! (Although I did hiss quite a few times.)

Anyway, Dr Rachel thinks it might have changed a little bit, but not too much, and she didn't think there were any raised lesions, so I don't know what Ellen was on about. All in all, they dithered and muttered and postulated and prevaricated, until they finally decided that the odds were slightly in my favour and I should come back in another 3 months.

So that's what we'll do I guess.

PS - Ellen is scooting off down to the island this weekend and leaving me home alone. And after I behaved so well too! Ah well, I guess it's better to be home than dragged down there.

A few things:

1. I am back on a diet and NOT loving it. Gross, yuck, hungry! All the time! Diets suck.

2. My eye (the one that changed colour) has a ridge in it. Ellen thinks they're going to rip it out. I have to go see the eye specialist again.

3. I think Ellen likes Chug the pesky dog next door better than me. Every night recently, she's gone to say hello to him, before she says hello to me. Before she even comes inside! He goes all yappy and licky and makes her feel special. She should know it's just a con. Dogs are pathetic.

Vet check

Well, I'm just back from the vet and got an excellent bill of health. The vet said my weight is great and that I'm well muscled and very fit, which he said was a rarity among cats these days, but comes from my hardly ever being inside. So, Chenna dear, I guess you're not alone in the being-starved-for-my-health cat files. You have my commiserations. Meanwhile, I should get outside and back on that roof. Don't know why I came down in the first place -- ah, yes, the promise of milk, and instead I got poked and prodded and jabbed. Life is so unfair.

Pathetic (reputation shattered)

Ellen is home.

For three weeks I've been planning and plotting how I'm going to punish her, so that when she got home she would vow and declare never to do it again. (So, I'll admit it. Being home alone isn't all it's cracked up to be. A weekend is fine. No worries. But three weeks? That's just cruel and BORING.)

Many things passed through my mind (some of which Beth has alluded to in her previous post). But how to make it really good? A punishment worthy of the period of time? After all, I've been known to leave deposits after a mere weekend! Surely three weeks deserves something more. Bigger. Grander. More of a statement! (And bodily fluids are so passe!)

So I had it all worked out. I was going to hide. Hide, so that she thought I'd run away. I was going to stay away all day, make her feel really bad. (As well as all the bodily fluid deposits of course.)

But in this I have failed dismally. I took one look at her this morning and disintegrated into a blubbering mess. I meowed and cried and sooked, and followed her around the house, completely unbelieving she was finally home and fearful she would disappear again.

I am so PATHETIC. I still cannot allow her to leave my sight. The mere thought makes me quake.

I didn't even leave her ANY deposits. I clean forgot.

So much for my devilcat reputation!

What Chenna's really doing while E is away

Yes, yes, so this was taken at the island, but now we know, cats, that our friend Chenna is collaborating. Oh, all right, she's only collaborating with E!

Here's what we do know: the devilcat writes -- this blog is proof of that -- and here's the photographic evidence. She's working on a novel, I hear. What does everyone think it's about? The stupidity of man? Of dogs? The soft, fat bellies of mice and how good their gizzards taste? Or is she perhaps in the planning stages -- and writing the story of a very naughty cat who's owner has gone away, and all of the naughty things she's going to get up to. If I were E, I'd be scared. Very, very scared.

Tricksy

So. She really did it. Went away and left me. It's after midnight on Friday and it's been nearly a week. All on my own.

I've been very good. Haven't left any deposits on the floor. I've even sussed out my cat door and I can roam free all night and all day (when I'm not sleeping on my cushion).

Thelma from next door is feeding me -- hasn't forgotten once! I've decided I'm going to try not to hiss at her, because if I keep hissing she might stop feeding me, and that would be BAD. So I'm TRYING to be on my best behaviour.

But every so often I play a little trick on her. Sometimes I see her coming and I bolt out of my cushion and hide somewhere in the house - or outside - just so I can watch her crawl around the house looking for me (he he he).

But I'm trying to be on my best behaviour.