Am I Really Cutiful?

I don't know why the human doesn't blog for me more often, but she says that now she's at work almost every day, often she's just too tired to do it when she comes back home. I've decided to take matters into my own paws and write when she's out, but this relies on her leaving the talking thing on for me so that I can use it. The button for making it come on is too hard for me to push with my nose myself, so yet again, I'm at the mercy of her whims.

The human has come across a new word though, which I think describes me aptly. It was late at night and the second of my wake-up human times. I did the usual; miaowed until she was fully aware that I was about to jump, waited for her to groan "Ok, come on then", climbed on top of her and started to knead. Still half asleep, she mumbled, while scratching me under the chin, "You're cutiful, you know that?" Well, it's stuck. I think it's great, and every time she says it, she laughs. I challenge you all to tell your humans to use it too. Let me know how you get on, eh? You're all cutiful enough to deserve the propper form of address, so good luck with the trainin.

Life has been relatively quieter since my last update. The witch has been back once or twice, but I have decided that I'm no longer interested. I don't even bother to get up from my chair now. If she thinks that she's a better, more attractive cat than me, then she's simply wrong. We all know that, so I don't know why I'm wasting the effort showing her. Truth is truth, regardless of what others think, and I think I will let it speak for itself. As for the mancat, if he wants to waste his time running after any old thing on the street that will have him, then I'm glad I didn't go near him. I want a man with a bit of panache, a bit of class, you know?

This, of course, has nothing to do with the fact that I now know another loves me, no not at all! His name is Porthos and apparently he's from France, whatever that is. My human says it's a country and she really likes the French accent. For the most part, she has good taste, so, Porthos, you must miaow at me so that I can make sure she's right. He's going to write to me soon and tell me more about him, but it's gratifying to know that he's fallen in love with me at the mere sight of a picture. Kind of puts the world back on an even footing, you know?

I didn't sleep with the human on the night after I last wrote, but that time to think has really helped me out. I have decided that I love my mum, I always have and always will, but the human needs me. I took responsibility when I took the human on, and I can't give it up now just because it suits me. I still haven't fully forgiven her for cuddling another cat though, even if it is my mum, so I'm slightly more reserved with her. I'm making her come to me now for strokes instead of the other way around. Well, it's good for her, keeps her fit. Let it never be said that I don't do my part.

I've had different meat too. This morning, the human gave me some raw chicken, and boy did it taste good! She committed one crime though. I have her trained well enough that she usually cuts my meat into small pieces for me. She thinks it's because Persians have difficulty picking up large chunks, and I'm happy to let her continue believing this. Really though, why go to all the bother of chewing if she'll cut it for me? She's been reading again though. I don't like it when she does this. It usually results in her changing something "for your own good, Tia," and this change usually requires more effort to be expended on my part to get what I want. This morning, for instance, she left my chicken in a big lump. Apparently it's better for our teeth if we chew on meat rather than just gulping it. I ask you, why! Why do it if the human will negate the need? I licked and licked at the chicken all right, but I didn't bother with chewing. She cooked some too, but left the raw bit in the other side of the dish for me. She says she wants to see if it's gone by the time she gets back, but she needn't hold her breath. I'll eat the softer stuff, then have a nibble on the *growl* healthy, dried stuff. It isn't even stinky!

The people who gets out the noisy hoover came yesterday and took away all my fur from the soft thing (apparently the peoples word is sofa), and from the carpet. I'd spent a whole weekend trying to make the house more appealing. It's so much better with decent, cat-smelling fur all over it, but they just don't see it. I try and do the same with the human, too. She has to cover herself with new things each day before going out, and I suspect she changes them so often because neither they nor she have fur. I thought I'd donate some of mine. Maybe that would keep her warm enough that she wouldn't need to bother with the covering things, but so far, it hasn't worked. Firstly, I can never give her enough that she has a nice, thick coat all over her like I do, and secondly, when I do leave some on the covering things, she brushes it off. I've said many times before that I don't hold a grudge against the human for being stupid, but this one tests my patience. Ah well, I guess the only thing to do is to keep on trying, eh? Besides, I can hunt two birds with the one paw this way anyway. While I'm furring her up, I can let her stroke me too, which is good for her. I might even indulge in some tummy rubbing as well, which I admit is all for my pleasure and not hers, although thankfully, she does seem to enjoy it quite a lot. "Oh, that's a lovely tummy," she always says as she rubs. To coin a people expression, well, duh, I already know this! It's nice of her to say it though.

That stupid kitten that escaped from my human's people has also got a blog. He's such a copy-kitten. His is full of kitten talk, but it's kind of cute. Shhh, I didn't just say that. I think I'm going to teach him the ways of a grown-up cat, and give him the good raising that he'll not get otherwise. I suppose there's hope for him yet, but only as long as the human continues to love me more than him. I can't see why this would be a problem though.

Speaking of love, my Porthos, I await your adoration.

My human has asked me to tell you all that she's sorry, but she can't leave comments on most of your blogs. A lot of them require something called word verification to leave a comment, and the audio link doesn't work. As her eyes are broken, she can't type what comes up in the picture, so can't leave a comment. She'd love to, but unless you change your settings so that it doesn't require word verification, she'll have to admire you from a distance. She says she'll help if you don't know how to change the settings but want to. She is sorry about this, and so am I, as I don't have a clue what most of that last bit meant. Still though, I don't mind doing her favours when she asks.