Home

I'm back. Pixie Poo Poo, the Queen of Dowley Gap is home again. And not a moment too soon either. Frankly, I think it's outrageous to keep me from my mooring for this length of time and I demonstrated my continued annoyance by getting off the boat yesterday and going off in a huff for two hours. You should have heard the poor saps, calling my name and shaking the biscuits. Do they honestly think I'm going to fall for that one again. I got back on board when I was good and ready. the humans obviously forgot that a cat won't just come running when they want it to.

But what I will say for them is this, the last few days have been challenging. The lummox even fell into the canal at one stage. I would have laughed like a drain had I seen it but I was curled up snugly at the back of the wardrobe space. But anyway, what I do know is that for the last few days they've been up against it and have had to work very hard to get us home again and for once, humans, I salute thee!

Just don't get used to the idea. I'm just grateful to be home, I haven't gone soft or anything.

P x

Dog

Humans will tell you that dogs are intelligent creatures. How they arrive at this conclusion is beyond me and indeed if you were to ask any cat they would all tell you that this is in fact a myth. Oh sure, they can round up sheep, sniff things out, run and fetch etc etc, but these are all nothing more than party tricks which are learnt after many hours of practice. Whereas a cat, you see, is born with a deep and sublime intelligence (though I do wonder about Snowy at times). Dogs you see will do what a human tells them, bounding around with their tongues hanging out and generally making fools of themselves. A cat, on the other paw, will merely flick it's tail and walk away in a dignified manner when issued an order. I'll let you into a little secret here as well. The tail flick is the cat equivalent of when a human shows their middle finger to another human, only not as base or crude a gesture. It's a cat's way of saying 'f#*! off'.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, we had the pleasure of the Dog's company on my boat this weekend. And boy was I pissed about it. Not content with revving that bloody engine and blasting along the rivers again the humans had to add the Dog to the crew and make my life as miserable as possible. All weekend I had to put up with panting, slobbering, whimpering, scratching, howling etc. And the Dog was even worse - hah!, see what I did there.

Really though, to think that I, Pixie Poo Poo, should have to tolerate the presence of the Dog on top of cruising is just asking too much, and don't even get me started on the fact that we ended up in bloody Leeds again on Saturday night. And then they had to go and find a patch of grass for it to evacuate it's bowels on. How awful, what's wrong with a litter tray? And, did you know, that some humans enjoy putting dog excrement into little bags? They must do, I see it so often. I find it all most disturbing.

Anyway, she's gone home now and I can give the place a good airing and start getting back to normal. I put on a quite magnificent display of sulking last night to leave the humans in no doubt about how miffed I was at my weekend being dog-ridden and I shall be expecting treats and molly-coddling to follow, or else.

P x

Bag

I'm sorry, but if you're going to leave a comfortable looking bag lying on the floor for more than a few days then you can't complain if I decide to start sleeping on it. And that, gentle reader, is precisely what has happened here. Ange is/was the proud owner of a rather fetching hessian shopping bag. I believe it was used for ferrying papers to and fro her place of employment. Well it's now my place of enjoyment - Hah! See what I did there?

It really is most agreeable for a mid morning nap and there is only the one down side to it which is that the humans see me lying there on it and turn into a pair of simpering idiots, spewing out bile inducing comments regarding the cuteness of my appearance, as if I didn't know. Strewth! Give a cat some peace will you? It's enough to make you bring up a hairball the way they jabber on. I don't wake them up with a running commentary on the way they look. No, I wake them up with a mouse or just a good meowing to make them move over and give me more room on the bed.

One day I shall tire of the bag and Ange can have it back for her papers, but until then it's mine. It must be left exactly where it is and kept unspoilt until I grow weary of it. How long will that be? Who can say? One thing is for certain and that's if it should be moved before I've done with it then my wrath will be incurred. I'm sure that won't happen though as they both know what's good for them.

P x