Woof!

It saddens me to say that I must write in reference to dogs again. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to regale you with my latest mouse catching adventures but alas no. I have to report about the two dogs (collies I believe they are) that have come to stay at the cottage for a few days.

In a nutshell - they never stop bloody barking

Dogs will be dogs, I realise that, and dogs will bark (of course they will). In fact a barking dog can be quite useful at times if say there are intruders about (yes gentle reader, even dogs have their uses). But this pair are relentless. From morning till night it's just a constant drone of barking. I mean, the dog here barks and very often without good reason but not all the bloody time like those two. It's doing my head in and I'm planning on ways that I can render them silenced. There must be something.

I've taken to sleeping during the day on top of the water pump box which has Ange's clothes hanging above it. That way I can at least muffle some of the noise out.

Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark! That's a rough impression of them. Honestly, it never stops.

P x

Swimming

Laugh! I thought I'd never stop. Tears were streaming down my gorgeous furry cheeks and I physically shook with wave after wave of merriment. I refer of course to the time last year when the lummox fell into the canal. Made a complete wassock of himself in front of all and sundry on the towpath he did, splashing about like a lame hippo. Berk! I loved it of course.

However, he didn't go in on his own accord. It was an accident. His lumbering great feet slipped on the gunwales and down he went. If he wasn't such an ox of a man and if he had the choice then it just wouldn't have happened (and I wouldn't have had such a laugh). The same can't be said for dogs though. You know, it never ceases to amaze me when I sit on the roof and time and time again I see a dog go hurtling head long into the canal and start swimming around in there. And they do it for fun. FUN!!! What on earth is the matter with them?

Let's consider the main drawbacks of such behaviour shall we?

1. It's wet
2. It's dirty water
3. It's wet

Then they'll go home with their masters (or servants as we cats call them) and make a bloody great mess everywhere. The dog here does it all the time. You couldn't keep her out of that filthy water if you tried and then she'll come lolling about on the furniture and leave damp patches all over it like the big galoot that she is.

Dogs? I'll never understand them!

P x

Scotland

So they've gone off again. Scotland this time. All the bloody way to the Highlands in that van of theirs. I can just imagine the sort of sordid things they get up to in there as well - drinking wine and eating chocolate until it comes out of their ears and then lying in that made up bed, farting and snoring till the sun comes up. Actually, now I think about it, that's sounds pretty much like what normally happens here at the weekends. So why go off to Scotland and leave me behind???

The one they call Lucy who owns that red boat next door has been invited to stay and look after me and to be fair to her she's doing a fairly decent job of it. She's good at making a fuss and food is always presented when I demand it. But if I've said it once I've said it a thousand times - what gives them the right to go off and have a good time without me. Especially all the way up there!!! And can you just imagine the lummox wearing a kilt? Ugh! It's enough to put me off my Dreamies. As for a sporran - don't even go there!

Scotland! Pfffff!

P x

Mozzy

It really is choice and quite funny to see. Funny, and somewhat grotesque. The Lummox has been bitten in the leg by some winged creature and it has turned septic. You ought to see him limping around like some doddering old man, wincing and moaning in infected pain. But I ask you, what a nancing great jessy of a man he is. One little bite from a mosquito and you'd think he was on his way to the emergency ward. I've sat and watched him rubbing cream on it and filling his system with anti-biotics. Pathetic. Do I pfaff about like that when I get a flea bite? Do I buggery! No, a quick scratch and I'm on my way (although they will insist on squirting that stuff on the back of my beautiful neck every month).

Normally, I enjoy chasing winged insects around the roof of my boat and mauling them but I think, on the balance of things, I may just leave them alone for a while because of the good laugh they've given me on this occasion.

P x

Gastronomy

I wish I liked cake. I really do. Because that would be a perfect way to describe how I get those two to feed me whatever I damn well please - a piece of cake. And make no mistake, if I did like cake then I would soon get me some and one of that pair would do it at my bidding.

The thing is you see, I'm so very gorgeous, (beguiling I think I heard Ange say) and when you are so purrfectly (see what I did there) adorable it becomes quite, quite easy to get your own way in life. And it's as simple as this:

Ange or the lummox will open a tin or sachet of cat food. I am then presented with two choices - I either eat it or I turn my nose up at it, depending on what kind of mood I'm in. If I choose not to eat it this sends them into a state of all sorts of panic, worrying what on earth to do but always leads to them rushing out to buy me something else. It's not that I don't like what they served up (although sometimes it has been shite and I've voiced my opinion on that before) it's just that I get bored easily plus I want to see what they're going to turn up with next. And the more I do it the more panicked they get and the more money will be spent on trying to find me the right cat food and very often the most expensive. And quite rightly so!

But what it also leads to is gastronomic comestibles that humans would normally eat themselves. Seriously, I've had salmon, tuna, chicken, ham, beef, sausages, eggs, you name it! I've had all sorts just by turning my nose up and I even turn it up at that stuff sometimes which totally freaks them out. It's great fun and the best of it is, sometimes I do it because I'm just not feeling that hungry at the time.

Like I said at the start, I don't like cake. But if I did, I'd have my cake and eat it and that pair would rush out and get me it that's for sure.

P x

Roof

I think you'll agree gentle reader that the simple things in life are so often the best. Even for a cat of my refined tastes. And when I say simple I don't mean simple as in the lummox who is merely a simpleton. No, I refer to the simple pleasures. And one of my very great simple pleasures at this time of year is to roll about the metal roof of my boat in the sunshine. That's when lummoxy isn't attacking it with that whining, grinding sander that he's bought, convincing himself and no-one else that he's some kind of metalwork expert when in reality we all know what a ham-fisted great tool he is.

But the roof, ah the roof. On a sunny day when the metal is hot I love to leap up there (displaying my natural dexterity and athleticism) and loll about for an hour or so, letting the warmth surround my fur and making me feel fab. Unlike humans you see, who have an aversion to things being too hot, we cats are extremely fond of hot places and that is why we will happily spend many hours in front of a fire or on top of a radiator or indeed a metal roof if the chance arises. And that's just what I have been doing a lot of recently. The weather has been good and I've been up there sunning myself for all I'm worth - and that's quite a lot.

There are other fun activities to do on the roof as well as rolling around. There are flies and moths to butcher, there are pigeon boxes and a mast to claw at, there is bunting to bat with my paws and so on. Why, it's a proverbial pussy playground up there. Anyway, I'm off now to work on my tan.

P x

Rabbit

There's a rabbit on my mooring. A RABBIT!!! Not a wild one that I can chase and claw at but a grey and white tame thing that the humans have put there on purpose. ON MY BLOODY MOORING!!! The sheer gall of it. No-one asked my permission if they could put it there and from what I can gather it's sole purpose in life is to eat, poo and make the humans turn into gushing jellies and want to cuddle it. It's got it's own little two storey house and a special wire enclosure for it to exercise in which I think is no more than a reuse to stop me from getting at the thing and letting it know who is numero uno around here.

It's a strange set up when you think about it. Humans keep animals as pets. That may be true with most animals but with us cats it's the other way round. We're not as docile as dogs, rabbits, hamsters, goldfish, parakeets, chinchillas and dogs (I mention dogs twice because of their intense docility). With us though it's different. The humans are there to serve, cosset and molly-coddle us in whatever way we desire and woe betide if they should fail in that as many have found out to their peril.

So now we have this situation where there is a rabbit on my mooring, taking up mouse stalking space and being a general nuisance. Oh sure, it might look cute and fluffy to them but it's probably costing a small fortune in carrots, lettuce and hay, money that could, would and should be better spent on tins of salmon for yours truly. And of course the biggest slap in the mush is that now they won't even buy me packets of food with rabbit in, that's the effect it's had on them. Piss poor beyond belief!!! The next thing you know they'll have it on my boat and that will be the final straw let me tell you that!

P x