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.

When the human's away ...

... the cat will play! Doesn't E know this? Ooh, with such a naughty cat in the house I hate to think what she might come home to. So, all your readers are wondering, Devilcat, what you have in store for her.

Will you shred the curtains? Sharpen your claws on her lounge suite? Leave fleas in her bed? What about a deposit on the floor somewhere? (You might have to leave this till she's almost back or the neighbours might clean it up, and that would defeat the whole purpose.) Oh, what has come over me? I think I must be channelling you!

Oh, my life is so ho-hum in comparison. It's turning colder, and I want those no good dogs out of the house!

And do you like my new blue writing? I've decided that as guest blogger I need my own colour -- what do you think, oh naughty one?

3 weeks

I don't believe it. Ellen has gone away for THREE WEEKS and left me home all alone. I simply can't believe it.

I thought a week was bad enough. How am I supposed to last three?

She's installed a new cat flap that has a magnetic clasp, so now I have to push my through the door. It took me a couple of days to figure it out -- I thought it was locked when it wasn't!

And she has all her new neighbour-buddies coming in to feed me twice a day. I never get a moment's peace!

Hmph. You'll be hearing more from me soon!

More bad behaviour

Things are not all well at home. Ellen is going away soon and she's leaving me home all alone for three weeks! The neighbours will be around to keep me company, but it won't be the same. I hope she gets my catdoor fixed first! The new one hasn't been fitted yet.

Anyway, as a precaution she made me go to the vet yesterday. HATE the vet. I let her know it too. I did NOT behave very well. A true devilcat. He he he.

So I had my vaccinations. And then I was weighed.

Not good. It looks like I'm going to have to go on a diet again! The last one I went on (last year) didn't work, and it turns out that Ellen bought the wrong food. So she put me though the torture all for nothing. So now when she's back from her trip I'll have to go back on the diet food.

Not happy!

Meeting the neighbours

Ellen doesn't seem to be home very much these days. And when she IS home, she seems to be hanging out in the driveway outside with the neighbours. (How weird is that?) Most of the time, I'm left stuck inside watching through the window, with the neighbours poking fun at me if I stick my head through the venetians. Mean.

Last night, E came home and they were dancing in the driveway. Yes, dancing. They'd been doing it for quite a while before she came home, and sure enough she came inside, fed me, locked my cat door, and then went outside to join them. Not sure I saw her dancing per se, but I definitely heard her singing.

Anyway, she left the front door open in invitation for me to go out and join in as well. So I thought I might as well go see what was so exciting about the neighbours. After all, some of them are the ones who have those pesky driveway felines -- Fluffy (white fluffball) and Zim Zam (the ginger cat). And sure enough, they were there too. I was a bit nervous, because Zimmy and I have had many an altercation in the past (when he invades MY GARDEN), but I've not had much to do with Fluffy (who never strays far from the driveway) except to laugh every time E nearly runs him over.

Fluffy was immediately heading in my direction, perhaps being friendly, not sure. I certainly wasn't sticking around to find out. But then I got braver and came out again, and Fluffy and I eyed each other off from a distance.

But then Zim Zam showed up again and ruined everything. He bolted up and pounced on Fluffy, telepathically screaming: That's my favourite tormentor-plaything. Mine. You keep away and don't spoil all my fun!

Zimmy and me really are NOT friends.

After that, Fluffy kept his distance and I went back inside to wait for Ellen, who finally came in and then I snuggled up beside her and went to sleep.

the entertainment

I survived the writer-a-thon. Just. Spent much of the weekend curled up under E's doona (cosy) or nagging at her for attention. I have a sneaking suspicion I was the entertainment, however. One of E's friends spent an inordinate amount of time watching me and grinning whenever I did anything. I started to get a complex. The other one turned out to be one of Beth's humans, and I didn't know whether I should hold it against her. I thought maybe I should.

Home now, though. It's nice to be home.

Holiday with boring writers

Right. So we're going down to the island this weekend. Ellen broke it to me a couple of days ago. She doesn't want to leave me home alone until she's installed the new cat flap -- the one where the magnet works -- all because of the stupid invading ginger cat -- and so I get dragged down to Cowes again.

Must say I'm a little peeved, because she actually HAS the new cat flap but she hasn't installed it yet. She tried for a bit the other evening, then harrumphed off in frustration because she couldn't work out how to get the existing one off. I tried to tell her just to break it, but she wouldn't have a bar of that.

And so I have to endure the 2 hour car journey and being confined inside using a litter tray for three days.

But if THAT wasn't bad enough, now I find out that there are now others coming as well! Off she goes this morning to meet with her writing friends, and comes back with the news that at least two of them are going to come down as well!

So now I have to endure a holiday AND a house full of boring writers.

Prayer

Oh blessed catgods

In these trying times, we pray that you will take and keep safe the souls of our cat kindred who perished in the bushfires.

I know that you might feel inclined not to listen to a self-confessed devilcat, but for the sake of those poor felines who couldn't get out of their houses, or who simply couldn't outrun the fire, or who perished from smoke, please hear my prayer.

I promise that I will no longer envy country cats who have easy access to all the birds they want, or native nocturnal marsupials, and instead give thanks that I am safe in suburbia, with my very own cat door that will ensure I never get locked inside.

We also pray for all the other animals that perished in the blaze: horses, koalas, kangaroos . . . oh, and I suppose some dogs died as well. I might as well pray for them too.

Blessed catgods, hear my prayer.

Acat

Dead

And for all we laughed, there was a dead possum in our yard, and I swear I was not behind it. A friend of ours found a dead possum under its favourite branch of her tree. She said with the heat there are dead possums and bats all over Melbourne. Sad.

Where are you, Chenna? E hasn't starved you to death yet has she?

Not dead either

Well, I just want to say that I was so inspired by your post that at dinnertime tonight, I didn't show up. And after the 45 degree heat, my family feared the worst. It was naughty, I know, but I couldn't help it. Just once, I wanted to have a Chenna moment, and I can't really come at all that bitey scratchy stuff. I shouldn't have done it, especially since I got to go for a walk this morning before 7 am, and the stupid dogs got left home. Ha ha, I think that's very funny. Here's proof -- me having a lovely roll in the swamp. Yes, evidence of fighting, but that's just to prove I'm tough in my own way, Chenna baby!

Not dead

Tonight Ellen keeps asking me if I'm dead.

I suppose she could be forgiven for thinking I might be, because it's so HOT that all I can do is languish pathetically on the 'cool' timber floor.

But the lack of concern in her voice is disconcerting. Would she care if I was dead? I like to think she would.

Anyway, I'm not dead. Just Hot. And a little delirious. Obviously.

Living without dogs

This last week my humans were away, so like Chenna I was out and about, living it up, and -- even better -- chilling out in my own backyard. Why is that such a big deal, I hear you ask, and the answer, of course, is dogs. You see, while the dogs are there, I am not.

The Blonde Bimbo's okay. She's a big klutzy bumbling thing -- she even wags her bum, not just her tail, when she sees me. But Little Red Rat Face (also known in cat circles as the Red Terror) wants to eat me. I know it. She knows it. The humans know it. The only one who doesn't seem to know it is the Blonde Bimbo, but she's dumb. As in dog dumb. Oh, yes, she *is* a dog. I forget. (I am so witty!)

So the humans went away, and the dogs went away. I don't know if they all went away together -- I suspect not because the dogs went first. But if they did all go together I would be entirely put out, because obviously a cat is so much better company than a dog. But anyway the important thing is I had the backyard to myself -- the backyard and the aviary. I could sit all day watching for mice. Bliss! I could wander at will. I could laze around the deck and not have to get to the swamp via my tightrope act on the fence. Bliss.

But, of course, all good things must come to an end (see, I'm wise, too), and they came back: the dogs, the humans, though not in that order. And then the backyard was again somewhere I have to be selective about visiting. Only yesterday I forgot. I was ambling down the yard when I spied a human hanging up wet things on the strange leafless tree, and the two great lunks lying at her feet.

I did what all self-respecting cats did: I froze. Took in the situation. Assessed the danger. Wondered where my brain was and how I'd got myself into that situation. Then I miaowed. It was meant to be a quiet miaow for the human's ears only (better to let sleeping dogs lie and all of that), only it came out louder than I meant. The Blonde Bimbo got up, wagging her bum, and walked towards me. I backed away, not so much worried about her but that she might attract the attention of Little Red Rat Face. Fortunately, though, it didn't happen -- that idiot was still lying safely in snoozeland. All the same, I made for the fence. No use taking unnecessary risks, eh?

Crotchety neighbours

I'm not sure whether I should be amused or annoyed -- but I think I'm amused.

Ellen got an earful from some of the neighbours today -- not the nice friendly ones, but the crotchety elderly couple in unit 3. They accused me of defecating in their garden and making it all smelly so they can't open their window.

I mean, REALLY!

The only time I ever go out into the driveway is when Ellen lets me. She tried to explain that I only ever use the back garden (right under Ellen's window, in fact, and I've never heard her complain), but they wouldn't believe her.

Then they said they'd SEEN me. What liars! And then it turned out that they'd 'seen' me at 1am and Ellen was able to smugly tell them that I'm always locked in overnight (except for when she's away and leaves the cat door open, but she didn't mention that).

It all started getting quite nasty, with the little old woman moaning about how they were surrounded by cats on all sides (and this is in fact true, although why they had to pick on me when there are two other cats that practically live in our driveway), but then the old man started backing down and trying to be reasonable.

Who knows how it will all turn out. All I can say is that no neighbours are perfect, and it's not such a good idea to get people offside, particularly when everyone else is so chummy. Chug the spoodle next door will no doubt be the next one to incur their wrath. I saw him in their garden this afternoon . . . he'd better watch out!

Chug the Spoodle

ALERT! A canine has moved in next door!

Ellen, the traitor, was spotted actually cuddling said canine pup, which is that strange breed known as a Spoodle. I mean, really. Spoodle? No self-respecting feline would ever be known by such a ridiculous label.

Ellen seems to think 'Chug' is rather adorable. She came up to the front door, cradling the cretin in her arms and told me (on the other side of the fly wire screen) that we were going to be fabulous friends.

As if. AS IF! Friends with a dog? Me? And what a floppy, teeny weeny ragdoll-like pup it is.

Chug. Hmmm. Chug the Spoodle. (Snigger)

0.4kg down

What a weird week. Scorchingly hot, and now rather cool. When it was hot, I didn't feel like eating much. And now it's cool, all I'm faced with is that dreadful -- well, I'm not going to go on about that anymore.

The good news is that I think I've actually lost some weight! Ellen weighed me this morning, and I'm down by 0.4kg, which as a percentage of my body weight is fairly significant. Cool, huh?

Ellen's friend Lita actually said I was looking good, and that it wasn't my fault I had a flabby tummy. I like her.

anti-diet strategy

I'm still off my food, but for a completely different reason. I simply CAN'T STAND the diet food Ellen keeps trying to feed me. It's DISGUSTING.

So now I either leave it there and pester Ellen until she gives me some of the real stuff. Or I chuck it up again in an attempt to make Ellen stop feeding it to me.

Today I chucked up on the couch, and I know it's bothering Ellen, as she sits there, because she keeps wrinkling her nose. Even though she cleaned it up. I think she'll need to use something stronger to get the smell out.

He he he

Off my food

Thank the cat gods that's over. Three days locked inside, all alone. Forced to use litter trays. Simply awful.

At least there were three litter trays to chose from, although I only needed one. I found I lost my appetite through the whole ordeal actually. At first I kept coughing up hairballs and then I couldn't keep any food down. So there was quite a lot of food left over.

But I survived. And aside from leaving piles of half-digested food for Ellen to clean up, I didn't make any mess at all.

But I do hope my cat door gets fixed soon!