Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Not the Vet again!

You know I'm never one to complain, but I had a nasty experience this week. That black creature attacked me again! Luckily Dad stepped in, just as Squeaky had me trapped in his arms, and one shout from Dad was enough to make him let go, at which I sped off into the woods.

Mum came looking for me, but I was too scared to tell her where I was, and I just stayed out of the way until I was getting so wet and miserable I answered her call. She got me out of the middle of a gorse bush and carried me home, and I must say that this sort of situation really makes you appreciate your humans. They may be fat-headed, they may provoke needless confrontations over whose sofa it is (as happened the previous evening), they may refuse you a third helping of your favourite food - but when you're in trouble, they're there for you.

When I got in it was a couple of hours after being attacked, and I was happy to find they'd broken out a tin of Sheba for me, to celebrate my home-coming. Then it was back to the sofa (with no complaints from Mum this time). Oh, and she bathed the scratch on my nose and dried me off, and I felt a lot better. Where would we be without our humans, kittens? Remember the value of a good human - or even better, a pair of good humans, because then there's always one around to look after you, and if one gives you a meal, you can sometimes fool the other one into feeding you immediately afterwards. But I digress.

The next day I wasn't feeling quite so well, and Mum became concerned - and we all know where that leads. Yup, The Vet. For once in her life, Mum was early, but as the vet was late that meant that I had to sit in my 'cat carrier' (hah!) in the waiting room being stared at by slack-jawed gawpers and even - the cheek of it - having one stick his pudgy finger through the bars at me and another hold up his stupid cat at me, as if I was interested. What is wrong with some humans? (Note to kittens: this shows the importance of getting a pair of humans who know how to behave.)

So anyway, I finally get to see the vet. I'm very well-mannered, letting her look in my mouth, etc, etc, and I listen politely while she and Mum discuss my case. "Has she eaten anything?" asks the vet in a concerned way. At this, I expect to hear Mum say, "Oh doctor, we were so weepingly grateful when she managed to swallow a few soft morsels!", instead of which I heard what I can only describe as a hollow laugh followed by the words, "Oh yes, it takes a lot to stop her eating!". The vet looked surprised, which Mum says shows that most cats couldn't eat after a trauma, but I think she was stunned to hear such an insult from my so-called loved one.

Well, after a bit more chitchat, the stethoscope and a jab in the back of the neck (though thankfully no thermometer you-know-where), I was released. I improvised a winsome bit of business by trying to scale the shelves next to the black table, which proved a winner with both Mum and the vet, and then it was back into the carrier and out to reception again.

Note from 'Mum': Squeaky is someone else's cat who keeps coming into the garden. He's actually a lovely cat to humans, but he chases and fights other cats and won't stop doing it. What upsets me is that someone, somewhere seems to have given him a kick recently: he used to be perfectly happy but now he flinches when I walk past him, and the vet thought that was a sign of violence, too. Poor little guy. But because he's so violent towards Daisy, we are shooing him out of the garden as soon as we see him, and we just hope he gets the message and stays away.

Friday, June 15, 2007

More Tips for Kittens (and stupid cats)

For those of you who don't know your way around, here is my tip of the week.

There are times when you need to express your disapproval of a human's behaviour. Here's a good way to do it if, say, your human has been petting another cat (naming no names - SOPHIE!!!), and then looks up and guiltily realises you're there and you've seen it all. The human will generally walk over and try petting you instead, as if that helps. Now, this is the time to make your move: as your human bends down to stroke your head, wait until their hand is about one inch away and then snap your head away as you walk off. They won't be expecting this, and you will catch them completely off-guard and off-balance. In fact, if you time it right they may even fall over, which is terribly funny, although I do worry that they might injure themselves and be unable to feed me. You must assess for yourself whether it's worth the risk.

What this impresses upon the human is that they did wrong and you are displeased. They already feel guilty and now they feel terrible about the whole thing and may chase after you with treats. Forgive them. Accept the treats and forget the whole episode - though not the technique.

Even a small cat can have a big effect. What I lack in height or length, I more than make up for in --- no, Mum, not bulk --- in the strength of my emotions and my ability to communicate them. Ponder this, dear kittens, ponder and learn.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Greetings to my latest fan

Mum says I should say "Hello and welcome to my world" to A at the M, who has seen my blog and thinks I'm rather wonderful, as do all people of taste and discernment.

I've chosen green for today, as I'm spending the day under the pine tree, surrounded by long grass. Of course it could be brown for the half-eaten mouse on my right, or purple for the flowers beyond the grass or red for the colour I see when all those cats keep interloping: Fat Boy just finished my breakfast and Sophie is on the bench for the FOURTH time today. Oh well, back to sleep zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

I'm Back!

Hello, fans! Yes, Mum has finally re-registered me with Blogger so we're off again, bringing you news of ME.

What am I up to? Well, the usual: snoozing in the long grass at the top of the gaden, seeing off Sophie, running from Squeaky Ninja, etc, etc. All in all, life's not too bad, though it never does to let your humans think there's nothing they can do to improve things.

For instance, mealtimes were OK, but then they started bringing home a new make of food (which Mr Blogger says I can't name) and woweee! - life went up a notch. That's how it should be: squeeze everything you can out of life, because you're worth it. And if something doesn't match up to your expectations, complain until your humans fix it for you. That's what they're there for, after all.

Here's another good example, for all you cats out there who need Daisy's Tips On Getting a Comfy Life. First, I worked on my humans till they let me sleep on the bed in the daytime (they weren't using it, so it was just going to waste while I was forced to sleep on a sofa downstairs - anyone got the number of the RSPCA?). This was in the winter, of course - I'm an outdoor gal once the weather's good enough. So my feet may have been a little muddy, and naturally the duvet cover got a bit crunchy in My Corner. So Mum made me - wait for it - My Own Duvet! You can see it in this picture. Smart, isn't it? And with a duvet-on-top-of-a-duvet, we're talking double the softness, double the warmth and therefore double the happiness of moi, which is the most important thing.

Oh dear, Mum wants to butt in here.

To make a Daisy-duvet: take 1 old pillowcase and a piece of wadding (batting) twice the size. Fold wadding in half and put it inside pillowcase. Tack all layers together. Stitch across pillowcase opening. Do 'big stitch' handquilting, or machine quilting, and remove tacking.

Hmmm. I don't care how she did it, just as long as it's there on My Corner of the bed when I want it. I suggest you give those instructions to your human.

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Something a bit bleurgh happened a while ago. My humans left me in what they laughingly referred to as 'pussy prison'. I don't know what it's for. I didn't do anything wrong but I still got banged up, as I believe the expression is. So there I am in a cage, with stupid cats all around me, staring at me. Nobody seemed to know who I was, but then a human started feeding me and being nice, and we got along very well. By the time My Humans arrived to take me home, I'd grown quite fond of the new one and I let her pick me up and cuddle me in front of my own pair. This produced a look of what I would term chagrin on Mum's face, as I always complain if she tries to pick me up, on principle, even if I secretly WANT to be picked up - and Mum had told them at the prison that I wouldn't let anyone else touch me. Hah! Let that be a lesson to you, traitorous humans! You abandon me, and I will abandon YOU!

Of course, once we were home I let matters return to normal. I'd told them how I felt, and they understood.



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