She's Got Some Splaining to Do!

Oh yes she does, friends. The human, that is. Earlier today I was informed by a reliable source that another cat had been writing on my blog, and that my human had been fratternising with it. The latter I believe. She's difficult like that, and no amount of training will teach her otherwise, but the former? Surely not. As soon as Dogman turned his back, I had a quick peak, and couldn't believe my eyes! Who does this Phoebe think she is! What's going on here! Why is my human cuddling another kitten! I was so angry that when Dogman and she were talking on the phone, I miaowed very, very loudly and told her off repeatedly. Dogman was surprised at the amount of noise I was making. Just as well he doesn't understand felinese, cuz I confess that some of the language I was using was far from ladylike. You know what though? I don't care, and I'm not ashamed of it. That human needs putting in her place.




Once I was done telling her exactly what I thought of her, I found that my anger was manageable. I went back and re-read what the kitten had written, and my heart softened as my claws retracted instead of scrabbing. She sounds so lost, so misguided, so, well, kittenish. I have a soft spot for kittens. I can't help it. They're just so defenceless and impressionable. I decided that instead of shouting at her for stealing my blog as she deserves, I'd tell her rescue story instead, cuz she was a rescue you know.





Tori, Phoebe is not my human's new kitten, no. We did say we were getting one a few months ago, but unfortunately, it turned out that that baby wasn't the right way to be shown. So we're still waiting. no, this kitten owns the human's auntie people and her three kittens. The peoplekittens are quite old kittens now, but you know, they do stay babies for such an awfully long time. Anyway, Phoebe began life as one of a group of kittens in a feral colony. Mummycat was being fed by the auntie cuz she could tell that she was nursing and she wanted to help her. Phoebe and her siblings were born just as it was starting to get cold here, so mummycat could do with all the help she could get.





For about four or five weeks, everything was fine. Mummycat fed the babies and the babies followed mummycat everywhere. But then the peoples noticed that one little cat wasn't following so good. Mummycat was a very good mummycat though, and kept coming back for it and picking it up to take with her. But the peoples could see that the kitten wasn't well. They phoned my human and told her that the kittens eyes were gummed shut so bad that she couldn't see, and that she seemed sniffly and lethargic. When the human said that it was cat flu and would most likely kill her through her being cold or mummycat struggling too much and leaving her behind or her own immune system not being strong enough yet to fight it off, the peoples, particularly the oldest peoplekitten, got very upset. The human advised them on the best way to separate the kitten from mummycat and trap it with the minimum amount of distress.





It wasn't hard to do. The baby was so sick that she didn't even try to run away. When they took her inside, she was so scared, but too weak to run. The human told the mummypeople of the peoplekittens, her auntie, how to make up a saline solution and then how to safely bathe the baby's eyes to give her some temporary relief before they took her to the vet.





Now you know that I go back and forth on whether or not I like vets, but whether I love 'em or hate 'em, the fact remains that occasionally, they have their uses. This was one of those cases. They helped the auntie clean phoebe up good. She had fleas, she had worms, she had flu, she was too small to eat propperly just yet, and the auntie didn't have the money for any of it. The vet was so nice that he said the only thing they had to pay for was the eye drops for her eyes, and they had to promise to bring her back for her vaccinations. Super vet!





They took the kitten home. They got fleas, but they still didn't care. They just cleaned them out of where they landed, and kept cleaning the kitten. That's when she got named Phoebe. The oldest peoplekitten watches the TV show Friends, and on there, a people named Phoebe sings a song that goes, "Smelly cat, smelly cat, what are they feeding you". Now normally I'd take offence to this. After all, it's not terribly flattering to be named for a smelly cat. But the thing is, she was smelly back then, and anyway, Phoebe is the peoplekitten's favourite character, so it's kinda Ok. So Phoebe was her name, and it stuck.





The original plan was to clean her up, then put her back with the mummycat, but that lasted all of about two seconds. The human also mentioned the high mortality rate in feral colonies from things like FIV, and as soon as they heard that, they decided, well, the oldest peoplekitten decided, that they were keeping her as a housecat. They had no experience of cats at all, let alone tiny kittens, but somehow they managed to get her eating, and sort of pooping in her litterbox. I say sort of cuz she prefers to go on the floor right nearby. They didn't heed any of the human's advice on fixing the problem though, so she still does it. She's about three months old now, and is reasonably well adjusted. She's still not too sure about peoples, but that's more to do with the environment she lives in rather than her routes, we suspect. It's a very noisy and fast-paced household. Goodness, even I wouldn't be a huge people cat in that sort of house, and I love peoples! We have hope that she'll get better though.





So, that's Phoebe's story. This little kitten has found her forever home right in time to have her first Christmas. Isn't that great? What's not so great is that she stole my blog, but hey ho, she's just a kitten and I guess she doesn't know she's not sposed to. if she does it next Christmas, she'll get a good whapping, but for now, cuz she's tiny and cute, I'll say this instead. Welcome to the world, Phoebe, welcome to Christmas, welcome to your forever home, and more importantly, welcome to love! Soak it all up, baby. It don't get much better than you've got it. Oh, also, I've had a report from the human about the Pepper. Just so as you know, the Pepper is actually called a dog, and dogs are made for whacking! The human says she attacks you and bites you and chases you. She doesn't do it enough to draw blood or to really hurt. She's doing it more cuz she's jealous of the attention you get rather than cuz she wants to do you injury, but it's not acceptable! The peoples are too soft with her. They don't discipline her the way they should, so, baby, it's up to you! Those claws you have? Use 'em. I know you're starting to, cuz the human heard Pepper yelp a couple of times when you decided to chase her. Good for you! You need to do that now when she comes to bite you. Just remember, you are and always will be cuter than her, which means you'll always get more attention and she'll always be jealous. that means you gotta stick up for yourself. Claws, claws, claws! She'll be much happier once you've put her in her place.





Because it's Christmas, I'll allow you to cuddle my human too. Sit with her a while. She's a good people to teach you that peoples are not all busy busy and can be good, quiet, warm places to sleep which will scratch and tickle you when you ask for it. You're right not to bite though. The human is such a bore when even I do that. it's just not worth it. If you're nice, she'll bring you ribbons and things to play with. I'll tell her to.





Now, I'm done being nice. Dogface is here. I've got some whapping to do!

Finally Scafflaw!

I can see now why the human has been doing everything in her power to stop me posting this. It's not nice to let everyone else in on the fact that you break rules, is it, human? But you've done yourself no favours. Taking me to the vet was a low blow in the war against Scafflaw, so I'm going to town on you. For all the rest of you, head on over to Fin's blogto read all about Scafflaws.

Rule 1: Tia should have wet food at least as often as you do. Once a day is not enough.

She flouts this one on a daily basis, and with very little care for the damage it does me. I mean, how am I supposed to become soft and cuddly without all those extra helpings? What's that you say? My huge fur makes me soft and cuddly anyway? Rubbish. Just think of how much more I could be with some extra food.

The human eats wet food at least three times a day, and what's more, she doesn't share! The night before last she was eating fish. It was still warm from the oven, just the way I liked it, so I politely stepped onto her knee, with the front paws only of course given that this is the propper polite way to eat, and dropped my head to the plate. She pushed me away! Undeterred, I tryed again, but this time she actually tapped my nose. Oh, the indignity of it! How can she be such a hipoocrite? And yes, I'm putting hippo there on purpose, because that's what she'll turn into if she keeps on like that. Human, I'm the one who needs to be soft and cuddly, not you. Now, share!

Rule 2: Dogs were made for swatting. You shall not tell Tia off when she follows the rule to the letter like a good cat>

I don't even know where to start with this one. I was following the rule so well that she didn't even realise what I was up to. Now that's skill! But then, stupid Dogman had to go and tell her. The arm of the sofa is a prime position to smack Molly as she walks past, but Dogman saw me do it. Now that he's told her, she watches for it all the time. I was on her knee yesterday while hoover lady and the other people who likes Molly were over. Molly was doing her usual attention grab, but as she walked past, I'd had enough. After all, I wasn't getting the attention. I reached out and smacked her good. But horror of horrors, the human, in return, swatted me! It didn't hurt. She doesn't have it in her to hurt even a stupid dog never mind a perfect cat, but I was so surprised that I leapt straight off her knee. To be honest, I half jumpd, half fell, but leapt sounds so much better, doesn't it? I dropped into the abject "I'm pretending I know I've done something wrong" pose then. This one always gets me cuddles and reassurance and treats, but as stupid dogbreath was in a "uh-oh, I'm a bit scared and am not sure if I can walk there any more" position, she got all the fuss. This was a major, major rule break, and probably worthy of a post all of its own! I should do the swatting, not the human, and especially not when I don't deserve it!

Rule 3: Whenever I miaow, you stop what you're doing, come to me, pick me up and cuddle me. Even if I miaow to get your attention then run away, you chase me, pick me up, then cuddle me.

She's mostly pretty good at this, except for at night time. I sing beautifully, especially at night. I'm only practicing Dogman's song for me, but I'll tell you more about that in another post. Anyway, I always miaow when I'm coming up onto the bed. I expect at best to be picked up so that I don't have to go through the effort of jumping before I flop on the blankets, or at worst, for her to show her need for my company by calling me. In the daytime, as soon as I miaow she's there, but at night, she'd much rather sleep than talk to me. This is unacceptable. I mean, why should I have to jump to get on the bed? It's a bit much to expect.

Rule 4: I am the most beautiful and deserve all of the attention.

I don't care if there is a really cute human kitten in the house. I don't care if the dog rolls over to show you her tummy. I don't care if the TV is really good. I am the prettiest, and whenever I so much as move, no, whenever I breathe even, I deserve fusses and nice words and, most importantly, wet food! My human is good at cuddling, but she still doesn't meet the expectations of this rule. Nor does anybody, really. Sure, when they come into the house, they usually comment on how pretty I am, but they spoil it by doing the same to the dog, then cuddling her lots, and all because she can wag her tail and bounce at them and pant a lot. Well, if it takes sinking to that level to get attention, I'll pass, thank you very much. I'm far too sophisticated for that. And no, I do not lick my human because I like her. It's called social grooming! Headbutts are a greeting, not a demand for attention. And miaowing? I've told you already, I'm practicing my Dogman song.

Rule 5: You shall not ever, ever laugh at me, no matter what I do.

Oh, my human fails miserably on this. In fact, she breaks it multiple times in a day. She'll laugh at me when I'm chasing a ping pong ball. It's a serious business, as I'm sure Whicky would agree. That ball needs to be caught, and as it's constantly running away from me, I don't really see it as a laughing matter! I don't know what she finds funny about it. She says it's the way I sprint after it, then get all confused with trying to run and catch it and grab it and roll over with it and kick it all at the same time. I turn into a confused bundle of flying fur and legs that goes nowhere and achieves nothing apparently. Well, if you'll believe that, you'll believe anything. I'm just following procedure. Everything would run smoothly if the blasted ball would stop running away for just a second.

She laughed really hard at me the other night, too. Her and Dogman had put the TV on. I've said before that the human doesn't do this all that often, and usually when it's on, I'm cuddling her. however, I'd just finished catching a ping pong ball and ended up in front of the screen. I was still in hunting mode, and there, suddenly, was a bird! Well, I dived. The human wants to give you a word picture for this, so here's her paragraph.

Out of the blue, Tia launched herself at the screen, except that it wasn't the typical launch. Instead of diving, she stood on her two back legs, while the two front paws, claws out, made futile swiping and grabbing gestures at the innocent birdie. She appeared thoroughly confused when her claws only met smoothe glass, and dropped back to study the screen intently. Then she was off again, except that this time, she was almost bouncing on those back legs. She was trying to grab the bird between her front paws as she does with the balls, but she just kept slipping off the screen and bouncing back. As soon as I started to laugh, Dogman as she calls him told me she turned around, gave me a confused, then disgusted look, peeped back at the TV, then strolled with massive and obviously pretend nonchalance away from it as though she wasn't interested anyway.

Human, for the last time, you are not allowed to laugh at me! Never, ever!

In other news, hoover lady told the human that the kittens are doing well. They're actually seeking homes for them now because they've become so friendly. They took another mummycat to the vet yesterday to have the babies taken from her tummy and made so that she couldn't get pregnant any more, but when they went to let her out, she just stood by the door and cried and scratched to get back inside. Hoover lady was surprised, but let her back. As soon as she went in, she headed straight for the babies, pulled them all to her and lay down. She's feeding some of the youngest babies, but when they took her, hoover lady said she didn't have any kittens with her. She's wondering if some of the kittens in the shed belonged to that mummycat in the first place. Even if they didn't though, it's good they have a new mummycat to look after them and give them milk.

That's enough from me for today. I need to watch the human for signs of more rule breaking.

War of Nutrition

I love weekends. The human is home all the time, they're lazy, the sun is out, or it was this weekend, and they're just generally great. I haven't much to report, cuz there's only so much you can write about being lazy, right? Again, my human wants to paint a word picture of the laziest pose she caught me in over the weekend, so, human, here's your paragraph!

Tia is, by nature, a bit of a flop. By this I mean that when I find her, even if she's walking around on the floor, she'll immediately fall over on her side, and I do mean fall, as though she's feeling guilty for being caught in the act of actually doing something. I'd picked her up from one of these undignified flops and was cuddling her, as all good humans do. I sat down on the sofa, leaned back, and immediately, she stretched herself out along my body. Her back feet were braced against my left hip, her front paws, as usual, were up by her face, but her face was resting on my right shoulder. It's amazing how big they are when they stretch like this, but she was content to lie there for minutes on end, occasionally condescending to lift her head for a peremptory butt of my hand. I could have fallen asleep like that, but Tia had other ideas. The ping pong balls were calling.

Well of course they were, silly human. As for undignified, I am not, and that's all I'm saying on the matter. I fall over because I'm thinking of the human. I know she needs to stroke me for her own good, so I facilitate it. If I do it rather suddenly with such force that my body makes a soft whoomp when it hits the floor, sofa, table, bathmat that I happen to be on when she walks past, well, I'm just showing my enthusiasm.

I got one up on the human this weekend, though. I don't often gloat about my triumphs. Given that peoples are much more slow-witted than us, it's hardly a great win when we get one over on them. But this, friends, is. Why, I hear you ask? Because it has to do with food.

You remember the shameful, terrible chicken incident of last week, I trust. Well, the human, buoyed up by her success, attempted to be adventurous yesterday. She had bought some rabbit for me from the pet shop when she went with the other peoples to get food for all those poor, starving mummycats and kittens that me and Whicky have been talking about. Since I finished the chicken yesterday, she got the other stuff out to defrost and thought she'd try me with some. It came in a single, huge chunk. now I have to say, I did really enjoy licking the meat juice from the human's fingers when she set down the bowl, but the shame of the chicken was still fresh in my mind. I came, took one look, and walked the other way! Be proud of me here, please. It took a massive effort of will to turn away from such juicey, tender rabbit, but us cats have to stand up for our rights. It's all very well us taking on the responsibilities of owning a people, but they should reciprocate somehow, even if it is in a lesser fashion. They can cut meat, and do it well, so why shouldn't they? It's sad that we have to demand this, but there it was, and I demanded. I cried at her. I followed her into the kitchen and gave her my best, plaintive, tiny kitten stuck somewhere cold and dark and wet who is also hungry to the point of death, mew, but it didn't work! Am I losing my touch? It was a pretty good effort, I can tell you, but each time I did it, she only laughed.

I will win this battle, I promise you, even if she has left another big chunk down this morning. She's gone out to work, and it's only me and the meat here now. Oh, it smells so good, and I remember the taste of it on her fingers. If I just have a bite, nobody will know, right? Nobody can see me, after all. Just one bite...