Obesity management -- not!

Things are definitely afoot at the moment, and not in a good way. I've just found out that Dr C and E are colluding on my diet.

It seems that E is actually feeding me not-very-much-at-all (I could have told you that!) so the actual amount that I'm to eat isn't to be reduced at all (thanks to the cat gods). Instead, in order to lose weight (~1/2 kg), I've apparently got to have "royal canin obesity management" food mixed in with my urinary food.

What the --? OBESITY? I am NOT obese!

This is all Ellen's fault. She was the one who asked Dr C if she thought I was fat. And Ellen is the one who has clearly not been encouraging me to do enough exercise. It's her responsibility, not mine.

All this, and I've just been stuck at home alone for 24 hours as well. My life absolutely sucks.

Behaving badly at the vet

It was just getting to the point when I was sure E had forgotten about my annual vet appointment. Somewhat remarkably for me, I hadn't been subjected to the trauma in over a year, and I was quite happy to keep it that way. But no, she had to remember.

She put me in a bad mood to start with because she didn't feed me as soon as she got home. She oughta know that I require sustenance the moment she arrives. It's been all day, and I'm starving. After all, she doesn't go all day without eating.

So then she stuffs me into the cage and I know something's up. She doesn't have a suitcase, so I know we're not going to the island (thanks to the cat gods). So where then? Oh $#*&, the VET!

First up there's a stupid teeny weeny pug-faced dog yapping at me in the waiting room. That didn't help my mood. It made me grumpy and irritable.

Oh all right, it made me foul. I was absolutely the devilcat from hell.

But no self-respecting feline should ever put up with being prodded and poked and having a light shone in your eyes and jabbed with a big needle and weighed -- how humiliating!

So I growled and I hissed and I scratched and I spat and I growled and I hissed and I scratched and I spat and I . . .

Dr C will probably never talk to me again.

As punishment, she has recommended E take me to an eye specialist AND go on a diet.

#$*&%!!!

There is nothing wrong with my eyes, thank you very much, I can see perfectly well. So what if one of them has changed colour? It still works. (Seems Dr C thinks I should have something called a bilateral retinal exam.) The strange thing is that it seems to have little to do with the colour-change.

And as for the diet . . . well all I can say is that E has tried that before . . . she keeps threatening me with a diet, but never follows through. She's shown she's extremely susceptible to my 'pleading' when it comes to food.

I've got her wound around my little finger.

Bet I can make her forget about the eye doctor. Whoever heard of an animal opthamologist anyway?

PS: For once no urinary issues -- woo hoo!

virtuoso devilcat

I've been back at my devilcat best this past week. Angelcat? BAH!

A notable event was my destruction of Ellen's bedside lamp. I'm not sure how it happened, but it ended up on the floor early one morning, glass shade shattered into a thousand pieces. You should have seen Ellen jump! (She had been asleep . . .) So E had to get out of the nice warm bed and clean it up.

And then this afternoon (he he he) E was making a nice bagel ready for grilling. She put tuna on it, so of course I wanted some too! I was up on the bench in a flash to drink the juice she left for me. But I finished that fast, so I cast around for some more. And then (he he) I realised I was covered in dirt after lounging in the garden bed, so I shook it all off. All over E's bagel! You should have heard her curse at me. She was not happy, no she wasn't.

Oh yeah, and I chucked up my food a few times this week as well. All in all, a fine devilcat performance!

You wanna know?

So I suppose you're all wondering what I've been doing? To tell the truth, I've been rather bored, because E hasn't been home much of late. It seems like she's always going out or getting home late. Bah, at least she remembers to feed me most of the time.

The weather is getting cooler now, so I'm spending more time indoors. I suppose I should be doing more exercise -- one of E's friends accused me of being fat the other day! Hmmph I don't think so!

Tonight me and E are sharing a companionable evening in front of the TV. It's nice when she's home, because I can snuggle up on her lap, or crawl under her doona cover. I absolutely hate it when she leaves me at home for a night on my own. But that hasn't happened in a while.

The other night she had one of those stupid party plan evenings. This time it was sheets and stuff. (I was eyeing off one of the rugs to sleep on.) The best bit was when a glass of wine got knocked over and splashed all over E's brand new doona! He he. They all scrambled to clean up the rug and the doona cover. But then she poured white powder stuff all over the carpet. Yuck!

So there you go.

Angelcat

Hey, whose blog is this anyway? I am still here, but if I choose not to post, then that's my prerogative.

If you must know, the reason I've been so quiet during April is because I've been so GOOD. Nothing to report, whatsoever. No fights, no holidays, no rodents, no blood drawn (well, OK, that's a lie. I've scratched Ellen a few times).

Clearly I don't need therapy anymore. Must be something to do with being five? I am now an angelcat. Perhaps I should start a series of angelcat tips now, just for fun? (Beth could do with some pointers . . .)

Chenna, Chenna, where art thou?

Hmm, days have passed and still no Chenna! My cat conspiracy theories are going into overdrive! Cats of Melbourne unite! We must sleuth out what has happened to that black-and-white devilcat. After all, curiosity is our thing, isn't it?

So, here's what I think has happened...

Ellen has left food out and those pesky little mices have been eating it, only it wasn't just any food: it was genetically modified mouse food, and those mices have eaten it and eaten it, and there bellies have distended, and their little whiskers have twitched, and their eyes have glazed over, and their bones stretched and cracked and ... and ... and they have grown, and husked off their skins like seedpods from a tree. Anyone know Jones, the famous ginger tom? Starred in the movie Alien alongside a few lesser human actors. That cat could sure act! Oh, I have shivers just thinking about it -- his big face as the alien descended from the ceiling. But I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes, the mices have grown and grown until they are monster-mice, and the monster-mice have got Chenna cornered somewhere, and though Chenna calls and calls Ellen doesn't hear her because she's so engrossed in her writing. I mean how bizarre is that? People -- I just don't get them at all.

So poor Chenna is calling and the monster-mice are whittling away the space between them and her, and if we don't get in fast and rescue her they will devour her. They will! Mark my words. Anyway, maybe you've got a better theory. Why not post it as a comment? Thanks, cool cats.

The score

Mice: 1 (escape)
Beth: 3

Oi, Chenna, where are you? Down on the island or something? You're very quiet. And you know what they say happens when the cat's away... Maybe you'll be able to beat my tally for the fortnight?

Love those mices to pieces

Ha ha! I got another one! Cop this one, Chenna: it was on the kitchen bench, running along as if it owned the place. Now, normally, I'm not allowed up there -- as if cats should have such boundaries! I mean, come on! You want me to catch the mice -- you let me be where the mice are.

So, I see the mouse: dark brown, fat, furry. It's running. I'm running. Leap. I'm up. And it's gone. So is the expensive hot chocolate Christmas present powder -- all over the drawers and floor. But who cares about that? Disgusting stuff anyway. I mean, seriously, why can't they do hot choc with sardine overtones? Then I might be interested.

So, I get the mouse, and what do they do? Throw me outside. Are they happy? No, they are not. I'm not supposed to be on the bench. I've made a mess. Yeah, but I caught the mouse. I CAUGHT the mouse! Seriously, people.

Humans -- I just don't get them at all!

My 5 favourite toys

I've decided to add a category to the series on "favourite things". TOYS. Toys are the best, and most felines can improvise with the most unlikely things to find amusement. Here are my top 5:

1. Rodents -- Oh, yes, rats, mice, large or small. They all do it for me. The past couple of days have been interesting in this department. I had me a rodent on Friday night. Played with it all evening until it hid where I couldn't get it in the bathroom. But eventually it came out and I knew what to do! But then yesterday the weirdest thing happened. One of them came in through my cat door (which doesn't have a door on it yet)! E stood there shrieking at it to go away, then called me over as though I was a servant. Demanded I catch it and take it outside! The thing is, it had climbed up this lattice grid over the window and clung there, calm as you like. I got bored and left E to it. I mean, rodents are loads of fun, but not when you've been ordered to it! She's just trying to diminish my pleasure. Hmmph

2. butterflies & moths -- They flutter around brilliantly and make fantastic toys. They don't squeak though, nor does E shriek, so this diminishes the pleasure somewhat. Nevertheless, if I can't find a rat, a flutterby will do.

3. milk bottle rings -- I think I've blogged on these before. They are great! And even better, E actually provides them for me to play with. They scoot around on the floor brilliantly.

4. tissue paper -- As any self-respecting feline knows, tissue paper means crackle and rustle. Humans hate it! Which means we love it!

5. boxes -- There's nothing quite like a box for pure and simple indulgent fun. The world recedes and there's only the four cardboard walls, the scratching of claws, the reassuring firmness at your back. Give me a box any day.

My 5 favourite snacks

It seems there's this thing going around, where you tell everyone your 5 favourite things. Thought I'd join in the fun!

My 5 favourite snacks:
1. Royal Canon cat biscuits - specially formulated for cats with bladder problems! So far it's worked a treat (touch wood).
2. Tuna juice - I'd probably like tuna too, if Ellen would let me get near it, but all she leaves me is the juice. Yummy!
3. bolognaise sauce mix (or pretty much anything E cooks in her wok) - licked straight out of the pan!
4. smoked salmon - E usually leaves me a fragment
5. cereal milk - I know milk isn't supposed to be good for cats, but surely the dregs in the cereal bowl couldn't hurt?

More photos

Yes, well, I think it's disgusting that all the photos are of you, oh-Chenna-princess-and-devilcat-evileye, so here are some of me! Me with the blonde bimbo, and me with little red ratface. Can you tell which one I prefer? And can you tell which one is straining at the lead, trying to eat me! The body language says it all really.

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!

Paranoid cat? What paranoid cat?

The incriminating evidence!

Okay, so I'm home alone, nothing better to do, so I'm reading Chenna's blog, as you do as any good, self-respecting cat. And there's a post about Chenna being away at the island. All well and good. And then I think, hang on a minute -- T was away last weekend too. Now that in itself doesn't mean much, except that while I was walking across the keyboard, as you do as any good, self-respecting cat, I saw a photo of a cat on T's computer. Now, that's normally okay too -- when that cat happens to be me! But this isn't me, and this isn't just any cat. This is little-miss-black-and-white. Little-miss-I'm-not-a-matron-cat-and-I-get-to-go-on-holidays. All well and good if she's going away with E. But she was away with T too! That's just not fair!

I mean, why didn't I get to go away on holidays? I travel well. Okay, I admit, I'm a bit vocal in the car, but what good, self-respecting cat isn't? I ask you. I don't try to escape. I can lounge just as well on any deck as any little-miss! I mean, look at this. Here is the evidence:


Does that look like me on that deck? (All right, it's a bit hard to see, but you can see the little stinking bits of white on her.) Does it look like me? No, it does not. And I can assure you it is not.

So why is Chenna taking my human away? Why was Chenna chosen *before* me? I think it's because she really is the devilcat. And she's turned on the evil eye. Want proof? Take a look at this:


I'm not paranoid at all. Am I? Am I?

Dragged away on holiday

Well, I supposed I asked for it. This past Easter weekend, Ellen dragged me all the way to the island. I thought after two weekends home alone this month that I might have escaped the interminable car journey and confinement indoors, but I was wrong.

Actually, it wasn't that bad. I'm getting used to the car journey, and at least E's worked out that if she changes my litter every day then I'll use it instead of the floor.

This morning I even ventured outside for a bit, while E was hanging washing on the line. But for the most part I stayed indoors and watched the world go by through the various windows.

But at the end of the day it's rather boring. There's nothing to DO down there. All E does is clack clack clack away on her computer (much the same as at home, really, I don't know why she bothers going all the way down there just for that). I get so bored I can't even be bothered eating.

Oh well, at least we're home again now.

In search of love and attention?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, Chenna. We cats have to be independent. Rely on ourselves to keep us amused. Or the six possums (two big and four little) in the palm tree. Or avoiding the horrendous teeth of little red ratface. (See, she doesn't even deserve capitals!)

Trouble is when the family get friendly, they usually want something. The other day it was pussy-tossing-at-the-mouse day again. Zam. I got the furry little blighter, and then I ran under the coffee table with it and growled at everyone. They laughed. Can't imagine why. Humans! They have no sense of propriety.

In search of love and attention

Thanks be to the catgods, but this week is finally over. Although I rather enjoy my own company, enough is enough. Ellen was hardly home at all this week, and I've been so BORED. After a whole 4-day weekend with no company, she might have spent some time with me in the days following, but no! Late home every evening . . . and not until 2am on Thursday -- or should I say Friday morning? And that was how long she was at WORK!

Now the week is over, she will hopefully give me some love and attention. I deserve no less. Food and smoochies are in great order. And I intend to sit on her lap . . . LOTS.

It was good while it lasted

So Ellen comes home again and the first thing she does is lock me inside during the night. How come it's OK when she's not here, but not OK all the other times?

After two weekends of freedom in a row, I was starting to get used to it.

She put all the food away too, so now I have to wait until she feeds me, or pester her until she relents. It would be so much easier if she just put all the food in a bowl and let me decide when I'm hungry. How should she know how much food I need to eat?

On patrol, intruders beware!

Just dashed in for a spot of blogging, and then I'll be back outside. Oh what fun! The stars are really bright tonight as I bask on the rooftop. Nothing to keep me inside. I really think I could live like this all the time. Why does Ellen lock me inside anyway? With me patrolling outside, that ginger intruder, Zim Zam, wouldn't be able to come near my deck or my garden. It's a different matter with me outside, defending my property, rather than stuck inside. I'd like to see him come anywhere NEAR me!

If only life could be like this when Ellen is here as well. There's nothing wrong with me being outside at night. Nothing at all. It's BRILLIANT!

sleep on the stomach

Damn and bother, I can't seem to get near Ellen's lap this evening. She's got her computer on her lap, so I have to make do with her stomach. I guess it's lucky that she's more or less stretched out!

I've had a nice day today, and I've just learnt that Ellen's going away yet again this weekend, so I'll be home alone again. It seems someone will come to make sure I have food. Probably her mum this time. We don't get along so well. I don't think she likes me too much.

Ellen's lap is actually quite comfortable. I don't suppose she'd be too happy to hear me say so!

Deviousness

Finally the mouse spirits decided to leave me alone, thanks be to the catgods. But that stupid human, Ellen, thought it might have had something to do with my bell, so she took it off. As if I would be scared of a pesky bell!

Nevertheless, I decided that no bell was a good thing, so when she put it on me again the other day, just to see whether it was the bell that had me hiding under the couch, I waited until I saw coming home up the driveway, and then I hid under her bed! This meant that she thought I'd been hiding all day, so she took the bell off again!

Man, I rock.

I'm in a pretty good mood today, because I've just had another whole weekend home alone. E went to the island without me again. I must say I rather like this gig with the cat door hole so I can come and go all day and all night exactly as I please.