More alone time

A ha! Another five days of alone time. I'm gonna roam outside all night, get into fights, raid the pantry, pee all over the floor, catch rodents and leave them on the rug . . .

Sigh. Bliss.

Struck down by mouse spirits

I'm not feeling too good today. I haven't eaten anything at all, not even breakfast, and I've spent the entire day under the sofa, hiding from mouse spirits. Every now and again I see one of these mouse spirits and I chase it, only to realise it doesn't really exist, then I hide underneath the sofa again. I feel queasy and faint.

Oh dear lord catgod, if I promise not to kill any more mice, will you ask the spirits to leave me alone?

New adornment

Maybe it was a complete coincidence, but on the weekend Ellen bought me a new collar. This one is pink with a fashionable design printed on it. Plus it has a safety release clasp (in case I get stuck and need to free myself -- as if!). Plus it has a BELL.

A BELL?!

Why the devil has she given me a bell? I haven't ever had a bell before. It's so damn annoying to hear a little tinkle every time you so much as twitch!

Actually, I exaggerate. She may think it's going to stop me from catching things, but the reality is that it's a poxy small bell that is pitifully easy to tame. I seriously don't believe it will curtail my hunting abilities.

And anyway, she tells me that she bought it because my old collar is worn out and about to break. This new one can't even fit my catdoor magnet, so I dunno what's going to happen when the door gets fixed.

I suppose it is fitting, now I am five, to have a nice shiny new collar. Aside from the blasted bell, it's actually rather attractive.

The irrational rodent protection society

Ellen is such an idiot. I mean, it's a good thing that I can catch mice, yes? To see her screech and yell at me, you'd think she wants a mouse infestation or something.

Get this. I catch her a perfectly good mouse. Okay, so it turns out not to be dead yet, but she dispenses with it anyway.

So then I go and get her another one. She walks in the door and literally screams. What's that about? Then she proceeds to rescue the mouse (which is not so far gone as the first one). She puts it in a shoebox with some water.

Now she has the nerve to ask me what to do with the mouse? Well, doh! It's not my fault she's completely irrational and is now protecting rodents. The mouse is still alive more than 24 hours later (I think she was hoping it would die) and I am left contemplating the shoebox (which is currently on top of the washing machine -- don't think I don't know exactly where it is!). She's even given it some food now!

This is completely imbecilic and irrational behaviour. It's giving me an identity crisis. I mean, I am supposed to kill rodents, aren't I? This is going to extend my need for therapy.

WIld fun and a workout

I had me some wild fun last night. Even better, Ellen was home, but couldn't do anything to stop me! It was the most fun I've had in ages.

It all started with this mouse I found. I'm not going to reveal where I got it from, because that would be telling, and I'm still hoping there might be others where that came from. This particular mouse was really stupid and, while E was out for the evening, I brought it inside to play with.

Mice are by far the most fun toys because they squeak and squeal and run away from you and hide and then (doh) sneak out when they think you're not looking and then when they realise you are looking, they squeak and they squeal . . . well, you get the picture.

Before Ellen came home, I hid the mouse in her wardrobe, and she didn't suspect a thing! Then, in the dead of night, when the coast was clear, I retrieved it and the fun began again!

The stupid mouse must've squeaked too loud, because E woke up and panicked a bit, but then she gave in to my magnificence and crawled back into bed, cowering.

I tell you that mouse gave me a good workout last night! What E should realise is that a mouse workout like that is much better than this stupid starvation diet she's trying to put me on. (I say 'trying', because all it takes is for me to annoy her too much and she gives in again.)

I thought about eating the mouse, but I didn't. I don't actually like the taste of mouse much, and I thought E would appreciate me giving it to her instead. A small token of apology for disturbing her sleep? Anyway, I left it on the floor and she can do with it as she wills.

It's still there, so I think she must be admiring it.

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!

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 . . .