That's it then, it's all over. Ange has gone back to work and the lummox is moping around like a little lost lamb, poncing about doing odd jobs around my boat here and there. The holiday is finished. And yet... here we still are in Castleford. Bloody Castleford mind you! I was hoping to be shooing Snowy off my mooring by now but no, we've got to wait around for some arsing spare part to arrive before we can set off for Dowley Gap again. That means another eternity watching them two drinking wine and cooing at each other about how beautiful the oil lamp looks and what a lovely place this is and how they've had a fabulous time. Humans, I ask you.
I suppose it hasn't been all bad. The engine breaking down meant that I didn't have to put up with it's God awful noise too much. It really is intolerable to such a sensitive and demure cat such as myself. Add to that the fact that I've slaughtered no less than six (count em') mice and kept the humans awake quite a few nights by galloping up and down the roof to my heart's content and I think you'll agree that I've not had too bad a time of it. Just that damnable cruising I'm not keen on. Leeds was a pile of old arsewash of course and if we have to stop there on the way back then my protest will be long and loud let me tell you. We've stopped in quite a few countryside locations along the way and I personally don't see why we should have to put up with that concrete jungle. The lummox and the redhead should set their faces and plough on until we're out of Leeds and have left it trailing in our wake.
Being on holiday has also given me a chance to catch up on my beauty sleep quite a lot. My winter coat is coming in nicely and I need to pamper myself as much as catly possible to ensure it remains in tip-top condition.
I'll let you know how we get on of course and I can't wait to box that young upstart's ears once we get back. That mooring is mine and he better have kept himself off it. My woodpile, my shed, my grass, my mice. MINE!!! Mine all mine do you hear? I'll be back!
P x
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Thursday, 26 September 2013
Egg
Yesterday I developed a sudden and inexplicable taste for left over boiled eggs. The two-legged ones had them for breakfast and it intrigued me to observe such a strange ritual so much that I went in for a closer look. I do have a fondness for scrambled eggs but to see eggs being eaten in their shells was new to me. And I have to say it was a very tasty experience.
I only ate some of Ange's though. The lummox had polished his off in about a minute and a half and well, to be honest, his leftovers weren't exactly appealing either. Ange made a beautiful job of delicately sawing the tops off her eggs so that there was scarcely a ragged shell to be seen whereas he had hacked his off like a deranged lumberjack, sending bits of shell hither and thither about the boat. One almost needs to wear safety glasses whilst he's attacking an egg. Also, Ange had eaten hers very daintily and that made the prospect more attractive compared to the dreadful savaging he gave to his eggs, clacking his tongue and slatching and slurping away, his lips curling and twisting around the spoon like a pair of angry eels fighting over a frog, flecks of yolk and albumen streaking his scruffy, straggly beard, his grubby, oil stained fingers plunging toasted soldiers into the centre like depth charges and spraying the eggs innards as far as the eye could see. Oh my word, it was awful to comprehend. By the time he was finished you'd have thought the eggs had been blasted apart with dynamite.
So I just ate some of Ange's and I thoroughly enjoyed it. So much so that next time they have boiled eggs I shall demand one all of my own and show the lummox how to eat it in a civilised manner.
P x
I only ate some of Ange's though. The lummox had polished his off in about a minute and a half and well, to be honest, his leftovers weren't exactly appealing either. Ange made a beautiful job of delicately sawing the tops off her eggs so that there was scarcely a ragged shell to be seen whereas he had hacked his off like a deranged lumberjack, sending bits of shell hither and thither about the boat. One almost needs to wear safety glasses whilst he's attacking an egg. Also, Ange had eaten hers very daintily and that made the prospect more attractive compared to the dreadful savaging he gave to his eggs, clacking his tongue and slatching and slurping away, his lips curling and twisting around the spoon like a pair of angry eels fighting over a frog, flecks of yolk and albumen streaking his scruffy, straggly beard, his grubby, oil stained fingers plunging toasted soldiers into the centre like depth charges and spraying the eggs innards as far as the eye could see. Oh my word, it was awful to comprehend. By the time he was finished you'd have thought the eggs had been blasted apart with dynamite.
So I just ate some of Ange's and I thoroughly enjoyed it. So much so that next time they have boiled eggs I shall demand one all of my own and show the lummox how to eat it in a civilised manner.
P x
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
Rain
It's piss-wet through outside and I'm not happy. We're now at some place called Castleford and I'm not too happy with that either. The last place we stayed at after leaving that awful Leeds was Woodlesford which was great because I actually got two mice in the space of an hour or so. You should have seen the lummox taking the second one outside in his birthday suit. Good job it was dark! Fat oaf. I laughed to myself until tears came. Ange gave me some cross words and a few glances and even had the temerity to call me 'naughty!' Who does she think she is talking to me like that? I tried to catch another one to teach her a lesson but couldn't find one. Never mind. Maybe on the way back.
So here we are at Castleford, in the rain and I'm miffed. They know I don't like it so why bring me here. At the mooring there are places I can go when it rains, whilst here I have to console myself with hogging the bed all day our sprawling across the table to my hearts content. But don't worry gentle reader, for as soon as it stops I'm off out there and those rodents better be ready!
Apparently, there is also something wrong with the engine and they're waiting on somebody coming to fix it. A poor excuse if you ask me. I want to go back to Woodlesford!
P x
So here we are at Castleford, in the rain and I'm miffed. They know I don't like it so why bring me here. At the mooring there are places I can go when it rains, whilst here I have to console myself with hogging the bed all day our sprawling across the table to my hearts content. But don't worry gentle reader, for as soon as it stops I'm off out there and those rodents better be ready!
Apparently, there is also something wrong with the engine and they're waiting on somebody coming to fix it. A poor excuse if you ask me. I want to go back to Woodlesford!
P x
Friday, 13 September 2013
Leeds
Leeds my arse!!! And that's where you can shove it as well. I'd just got used to being at this Newlay place when they up anchored and spirited me away from there at the most ungodly hour (the holiday has started by the way). Apparently they'd had no sleep. Not my problem people, not my problem.
Oh sure, Ange tried to molly-coddle me before we left but that was just a ruse so that the lummox could sneak out and start the engine without me knowing about it. Underhanded beyond belief the pair of em!
And now, here am I at some place called Clarence Dock in Leeds and personally I wouldn't thank you for it. I have to make do with what is basically a glorified plank to exercise on with not a single blade of grass or mouse to be found anywhere.
Then they went off out and left me for the night so that they could go and fill themselves with beer and Korean food to within an inch of bursting. Well, you should have heard the telling off I gave them on their return. And as for the sulking, it was magnificent. I sulked and stalked about the roof of my boat for ages whilst they sat and stewed in the wheelhouse shamefully drinking wine and doing their best to appease me. Well raspberries to them I thought.
I don't like it here, so up yours Leeds. I want mice and I want them now!!!
P x
Oh sure, Ange tried to molly-coddle me before we left but that was just a ruse so that the lummox could sneak out and start the engine without me knowing about it. Underhanded beyond belief the pair of em!
And now, here am I at some place called Clarence Dock in Leeds and personally I wouldn't thank you for it. I have to make do with what is basically a glorified plank to exercise on with not a single blade of grass or mouse to be found anywhere.
Then they went off out and left me for the night so that they could go and fill themselves with beer and Korean food to within an inch of bursting. Well, you should have heard the telling off I gave them on their return. And as for the sulking, it was magnificent. I sulked and stalked about the roof of my boat for ages whilst they sat and stewed in the wheelhouse shamefully drinking wine and doing their best to appease me. Well raspberries to them I thought.
I don't like it here, so up yours Leeds. I want mice and I want them now!!!
P x
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Shanghai'd
I thought he was just going to make a fuss of me. You know, all the petting and coochie cooing that is constantly going on around here. But he had an ulterior motive. The lummox had a plan up his sleeve and that plan was to Shanghai me onto the boat so that they could all go for another jolly up the canal. Instead of being molly-coddled I was carried onto my boat and before you could say "meow" the git had started the engine and we were off!
Oh they thought it was all so amusing. There was the lummox of course and also that Scouse hippie and an Irish lady called Ruth who I'd only just met but she seemed ok. Ange wasn't there and lucky for her or my wrath would have been complete. As it stands she remains in my favour.
So, miffed isn't the word, let me tell you. One moment you're on the mooring breathing threats to Snowy and the next you're half way up Dowley Gap Locks. Six days! Six bloody days we were out. Six days away from my mooring. We stayed at a place called Kildwick the first night, where Ange joined us, which was a nice enough place and whilst there I 'kild' a mouse (see what I did there) and left it in the kitchen for them to find. Hah!
We then went to Skipton. Been before so Yawnsville for me but they all seemed genuinely excited to be there so bully for them. On the way home we stayed at Booth's Swing Bridge which is nice enough but whilst there I was affronted at the Scouse hippie's suggestion that I was frightened by a hooting owl. I wasn't at all. It's just that I wanted to come inside really quickly at the exact time the owl hooted and it was pure coincidence. So shove it where the sun don't shine hippie! And remember who's got the claws around here or rue the day my Merseyside friend. Honestly, he comes here and then makes fun of I, Pixie Poo Poo. I don't know how I stand for it. It's bad enough having to listen to him blowing off every five minutes during the night and turning the air into a poisonous, unbreathable miasma with his over-productive abdomen, but then to suggest that I was spooked by a mere owl... why, the sheer naked audacity of the man.
We're back home now but there's talk of going out for three weeks starting next week. I'll sulk. By Jove I will. I'll sulk like I've never sulked before and this time they'd better be more careful about how they get me onto my boat. You have been warned people
P x
Oh they thought it was all so amusing. There was the lummox of course and also that Scouse hippie and an Irish lady called Ruth who I'd only just met but she seemed ok. Ange wasn't there and lucky for her or my wrath would have been complete. As it stands she remains in my favour.
So, miffed isn't the word, let me tell you. One moment you're on the mooring breathing threats to Snowy and the next you're half way up Dowley Gap Locks. Six days! Six bloody days we were out. Six days away from my mooring. We stayed at a place called Kildwick the first night, where Ange joined us, which was a nice enough place and whilst there I 'kild' a mouse (see what I did there) and left it in the kitchen for them to find. Hah!
We then went to Skipton. Been before so Yawnsville for me but they all seemed genuinely excited to be there so bully for them. On the way home we stayed at Booth's Swing Bridge which is nice enough but whilst there I was affronted at the Scouse hippie's suggestion that I was frightened by a hooting owl. I wasn't at all. It's just that I wanted to come inside really quickly at the exact time the owl hooted and it was pure coincidence. So shove it where the sun don't shine hippie! And remember who's got the claws around here or rue the day my Merseyside friend. Honestly, he comes here and then makes fun of I, Pixie Poo Poo. I don't know how I stand for it. It's bad enough having to listen to him blowing off every five minutes during the night and turning the air into a poisonous, unbreathable miasma with his over-productive abdomen, but then to suggest that I was spooked by a mere owl... why, the sheer naked audacity of the man.
We're back home now but there's talk of going out for three weeks starting next week. I'll sulk. By Jove I will. I'll sulk like I've never sulked before and this time they'd better be more careful about how they get me onto my boat. You have been warned people
P x
Sunday, 1 September 2013
Vet
So I went to the vet. And what a time it was. The lummox hoodwinked me to begin with by making me believe that he was shaking my biscuit box to let me know my tea was ready when in actual fact he was merely enticing me into capture. I fell for it and before I knew what was happening he had me seized and bundled into the cat basket with complete lack of ceremony and all done in the most ignominious of manners. My basket may be a Cat Voyageur 200, the crème de la crème of baskets, but I still need to enter it with dignity and pride.
I demonstrated my annoyance in the only way befitting. I shat in the basket once we were in the car. The lummox was the first to detect the odour and it serves him right. It was truly a crap to be proud of as well. A hot, acrid, eye burning, toe curling stench that seared the nostrils, coated the taste buds and left them both gagging for air through the open car windows. Oh sure, they did their best to remain nonchalant and both simpered and whinnied at me all the way to the vets which was ok but I was just glad that they would have the task of cleaning up my excrement later on.
Once we had arrived at the vet things took a turn for the better. The vet herself was very nice and seems to have a way with cats. I took full opportunity to pose and preen and show her what a fine specimen she was dealing with. I received an injection and a tablet and my humans were given instructions as to what to do when we get home. And surely even they can follow those.
The only disappointment I had with the vet was that she had a member of her staff clean the basket and so I was forced to soil it again on the drive home in order that those two might learn to treat me in a way that I deserve. Take that humans.
I'm much better now though so I suppose it was all worth it in the end. My skin is soft and my coat is truly luxurious once more. So thank you vet, you shall remain off my shit list for now.
P x
I demonstrated my annoyance in the only way befitting. I shat in the basket once we were in the car. The lummox was the first to detect the odour and it serves him right. It was truly a crap to be proud of as well. A hot, acrid, eye burning, toe curling stench that seared the nostrils, coated the taste buds and left them both gagging for air through the open car windows. Oh sure, they did their best to remain nonchalant and both simpered and whinnied at me all the way to the vets which was ok but I was just glad that they would have the task of cleaning up my excrement later on.
Once we had arrived at the vet things took a turn for the better. The vet herself was very nice and seems to have a way with cats. I took full opportunity to pose and preen and show her what a fine specimen she was dealing with. I received an injection and a tablet and my humans were given instructions as to what to do when we get home. And surely even they can follow those.
The only disappointment I had with the vet was that she had a member of her staff clean the basket and so I was forced to soil it again on the drive home in order that those two might learn to treat me in a way that I deserve. Take that humans.
I'm much better now though so I suppose it was all worth it in the end. My skin is soft and my coat is truly luxurious once more. So thank you vet, you shall remain off my shit list for now.
P x