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

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

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

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

Fleas

Becky - her that lives in the cottage - has recently had an operation. That meant that my pair were playing Florence Nightingale for most of the week and therefore I have been left to my own devices quite a lot. Which is ok I suppose, given the circumstances, after all; she did look after me when those two cleared off to Whitby. The problem is that the fleas are back and I've been bitten all to buggery by them and now I need some attention too.

I blame Snowy and Sooty of course (and the dog) as they are completely riddled with them. Oh yes, you can pass it all off on the hot weather etc etc but at the end of the day it's a clear cut case of good old fashioned feline hygiene and it's about time someone taught the two of them to wash behind their ears. And as for the dog...

Anyway, I overheard Ange ringing the vets this morning and making an appointment for me. And about-bloody-time too! I'll let you know how I get on but he had better be careful where he sticks that needle or he'll rue the day.

P x

Salmon

Ange and the lummox had salmon for tea last night. Fresh, tasty, juicy salmon fillets that were cooked to purrfection (see what I did there). You can imagine no doubt my excitement as they prepared the meal, expectantly waiting for a huge piece of the fish to be placed and exquisitely presented in my bowl.

Well...

It didn't happen. No, they sat and gorged themselves until they could barely stand whilst I sat on the roof giving them the cold shoulder until I could stand it no longer. I put my head through the pigeon box and gave them the meowing of a lifetime. This finally galvanised them into action. Well, Ange at least. The bearded idiot just continued to sit on his fat arse and laugh about how cute I looked. Of course I do, everybody knows that, I don't need that oaf to remind me! But Ange gave me some salmon. She brought it out to me whilst I waited and tapped my paw impatiently on the roof.

This put her in my good books (for now) but as for the lummox, I made his night a misery by hogging his side of the bed and taking as much of the quilt as I could. Next time fat boy bring me some salmon! Or better still, cook three pieces. You have been warned!

Salmon indeed!!!

P x

Sleep

I'm back!!!

Yes, Pixie Poo Poo is her old self and raring to go again. I've been rather poorly you see. I have an allergy to flea bites and for a start how dare they bite me! And I'm such a clean living cat that I can't for a moment imagine how I get them. Probably picked them up from Snowy and Sooty and the dog. Then of course this added to the heat we've been experiencing lately and voila! one poorly puddy tat.

But I'm ok now. The humans cossetted and molly-coddled me very well, especially Ange but even the bearded lummox did his bit too. I was given some drops on the back of my lovely neck which put the kibosh on the fleas and my diet has been altered whereby I only allow the food I need to be put out and not a whole packet of the stuff. This also has the added effect of stopping the dog from pinching it.

I now have a new favourite place to sleep, a lovely clothes basket in the bedroom. Why it wasn't set aside for me in the first place I don't know and woe betide them should they ever start to put clothes in it again. It's great though. I get my nightly snooze on the bed interspersed with my mooring patrols, then I have breakfast followed by my beauty sleep before hitting the basket for my mid morning nap, a spot of lunch followed by another quick patrol and then afternoon siesta. A quick kip in the evening after tea and then it starts all over again. it's a good routine and one that I enjoy immensely.

The humans are talking about cruising again - The navigation or some such - and thus my routine will be loudly interrupted. I take great offence to this because it is my boat when all's said and done but then, I suppose, if they're going to have a holiday then they're damn well going to take me with them.

TTFN

P