Hold the phones! Stop the clocks! Gasp and stand back in wonder! The lummox has actually done something right for once.
For quite some time now I've been playing the two of them like you wouldn't believe in order to get what I want. I have steadfastly refused to eat most of the cat food they've gingerly placed in my bowl including the shredded chicken in ham sauce, that I do have something of a fondness for, and have chosen instead to get by on the odd can of tuna fish, Dreamies, biscuits and the occasional packet of Felix. This has had them in a positive frenzy of concern that I wasn't eating enough. Fools! Anyone can see by my svelte figure that I don't eat to excess as it is never mind bolting down cheap shite just to make them happy.
What they failed to realise was that I was gently yet determinedly nudging them in a certain direction and it worked. But what was truly amazing about the whole experiment was that it was the knuckle dragging lummox who was the first to twig what was meant to happen. He worked out all by himself that what I was after was a tin of salmon and to his lummoxy credit went off promptly into Bingley and bought me one. I was astonished gentle reader, truly astonished that this man of whom I have (rightly) criticised time and time again on this blog should reach the right conclusion without the aid of diagrams and Post-it notes and go and buy me salmon. And not only salmon but mackerel too! So well done lummox.
I put the salmon away like a ravenous thing - wolfing it down with much contented purring before demanding more of it's deliciousness which was then duly dished out. I well and truly gorged myself which left them billing and cooing at me as if I'd just done something marvellous. So much so in fact that a few days later after a bout of impromptu meowing another tin was procured at great expense (and I'm worth every penny) and I gorged myself again. It's easy when you know how eh!
In time I shall of course tire of salmon, become bored with it and will of course then force them into buying me whatever else I damn well please. Until then, bring on the tin opener!
P x
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Tuesday, 4 March 2014
Calendar
It would seem that the humans are attempting to cash in on my gorgeousness. On Thursday I caught the lummox red handed sending my photograph (via email of all things) to a calendar competition. Apparently those people at Haworth, where my brother and I were incarcerated before allowing this pair to give us the boat, are running this thing where they want all the poor saps who us ex-Haworth cats control to send in pictures that they can use for next years calendar. Of course it only stands to reason that Ange and lummoxy would want to send mine in what with me being the most beautiful of of them all but damn it they should have sought my permission first.
And I know their little game!
They're on the make, that's what! Today the Cat Rescue, tomorrow The World. They want to exploit me to there own sordid ends. I can see it now. I'll be paraded from one photographer to another having to pose and look utterly splendid time and time again until I'm sick with exhaustion and fatigue. I shall be on billboards the length and breadth of the land and on the cover of magazines and cat food packets before you know it with that pair counting the cash and calling themselves my management. Huh! If they think I'm going to allow myself to be exposed to the limelight so that they can rake it in well they're very much mistaken. If people want to bask in my furry gorgeousness they need only to turn their attention to this very blog where they can paws for thought (see what I did there) about what a purrfectly (and again) marvellous creature I am. They're not going to parade me on the CATwalk (I am on fire today!).
However, in the obviously likely event, of my picture being chosen as one of the twelve for the calendar (although personally I feel I should be on every month but can't see that happening) I shall expect to be treated in accordance with my new found fame and will demand only the finest of food befitting a glamour model of my standing. And I shall of course continue to allow those two to prepare it for me. After all, their keep must be earned.
P x
And I know their little game!
They're on the make, that's what! Today the Cat Rescue, tomorrow The World. They want to exploit me to there own sordid ends. I can see it now. I'll be paraded from one photographer to another having to pose and look utterly splendid time and time again until I'm sick with exhaustion and fatigue. I shall be on billboards the length and breadth of the land and on the cover of magazines and cat food packets before you know it with that pair counting the cash and calling themselves my management. Huh! If they think I'm going to allow myself to be exposed to the limelight so that they can rake it in well they're very much mistaken. If people want to bask in my furry gorgeousness they need only to turn their attention to this very blog where they can paws for thought (see what I did there) about what a purrfectly (and again) marvellous creature I am. They're not going to parade me on the CATwalk (I am on fire today!).
However, in the obviously likely event, of my picture being chosen as one of the twelve for the calendar (although personally I feel I should be on every month but can't see that happening) I shall expect to be treated in accordance with my new found fame and will demand only the finest of food befitting a glamour model of my standing. And I shall of course continue to allow those two to prepare it for me. After all, their keep must be earned.
P x