Wolfie
1 December 1993 - 31 May 2007
Goodbye to a friend, companion and mentor
Forever in our Hearts
08 July 2007
25 March 2007
Raising my head back up over the parapet
Hello my Fans,
I have been keeping very quiet this past month. So much has been happening that discretion was the better part of valour.
You see, I was just starting to warm up to tell you all about the installation of my own personal cat flap (about time, I hear you say) and how stupid that the dogs had been, how annoying the black kitten was behaving, when suddenly things started to go down hill with them all.
Let me start.
Wolf, never very spry at the best of times, Bless him, started to pant. Now even I know that this is not a good sign, unless Versace has just unveiled the Fall line of Cat fashion.
Mum took him to the vets and he stayed the night. This is always fraught with danger, any trips to that place. so many times, you just never come back. It is something which I avoid at all costs.
Luckily Wolf came back, but he did say to me that he was not feeling any better. Simba carried on in his own little world of Me-Me-Me and Merlin was content to just hunt and annoy everyone with his youthful exuberance.
I tried to maintain an air of calm, but to be honest, I was worried about Wolf. He may be a dog, but he and I have been around together for a long time and I do appreciate our little chats that we have on the world, state of the food front and what silly thing has Simba done today.
Wolf started to get worse with a persistent coughing. Mum and the Bloke really started to get concerned and they even let all of us (apart from the sheep, of course) sleep with them in my, I mean, their bedroom.
what followed next was a number of trips to different vets and Wolf loosing more and more of his hair as it was shaved in patches. I tried to make it a bit easier by calling him a Poodle, but the old guy was getting tired.
Wolf told me that on the last visit that they were talking about tumors or a lung tear. That is so not good. They had given him some medication to take, one tablet was yuck, but a larger one was a yummy meat flavour.
It was amazing what the tablets did to Wolf, his coughing became less (made the sleeping in the bedroom all together, a bit nicer) and his joints stopped hurting, he could move around much freer. He had a new lease on life and he looked and felt years younger.
Things were looking up, I was just starting to think that this crises might be passing and it was time to reassert my role as household Prima Donna back on all its inhabitants.
Then things really went out of control.
I was sleeping in my new day room (oh, the soft bed, sheepskin rug and fine views of the harbour, Mum really outdid herself in ensuring my comfort was paramount) it was just after the Bloke had left to go back to work after coming home while Mum was out for a job interview (HA! work, my little pretty! Make money to buy me food!).
Merlin had been annoying me on my bed when he disappeared into the rest of the house. At last, I thought, a chance to get some more sleep. Mum turned up and walked into the kitchen. She found on the floor, the plastic bag that had been placed on the coal range, containing Wolf's medication. The bag had been destroyed and five tablets missing.
Well, there was only one animal that would be that stupid and the two sheep were in the field eating grass, so that only left the Demon Kitten.
Oh, my darlings, it is always so sad to see a teenager go off the rails. I could see it happening, but no one else seemed interested. first they start off on the cat nip, the think they can handle it, it makes them feel all nice, they are in control. But sooner or later they get into the hard stuff.
Well, the kitten certainly go into the hard stuff. he overdosed quite spectacularly. Mum was straight onto the phone to the Bloke. He called the Vets and they told him to bring the the little addict in for rehab.
Of course, I am sure he was just doing the same sort of attention seeking that the likes of movie stars etc do when they are not receiving the attention that they want or feel they deserve. Perhaps he is wanting to move into a career in this area and was want to kick start it with the publicity. "Merlin checks into Rehab - follow the story of the kitten gone bad, the parties, drugs and booze of this teenage star". It may sell the tabloid press, but it is not the exposure that a cat should court. So demeaning.
So he checks into rehab. A couple of days there he comes back, a bit rough around the edges, but Hey, thats what having your stomach pumped, activated charcoal and drips do to you.
Unfortunately, two days later, he starts vomiting. non stop. so he is back into the vets for an extended stay. I dont mind in telling you that I did take full advantage of the situation. I slept where I wanted to, when I wanted to and was able to eat in peace, without having to walk around always on edge, waiting for the next ambush.
Having said that, i will admit, that I did miss the little guy, not much, just a little bit. Every now and then it is nice to have another feline, showing the ropes to, pointing out their mistakes and shortcomings.
Mum and the Bloke were getting stressed by all the negative activities of all the rest of us. Wolf, in the meantime was starting to look so much better on the medication. But they were still going to go to Christchurch for a possible operation for Wolf, it all depended on what the Quacks up there thought.
So they loaded the dogs up and left me for a little period of respite from them all. It was nice, I managed to get a few more sleeps in than I would normal have achieved if they had all been here.
The next day they came back. Wolf was bursting to tell me what had happened up there. He was fair jiggling from paw to paw in anticipation. He told me that I would never guess what he had done to him. He had had a CAT Scan!! Him, a dog, having a CAT Scan!!
Well, laugh?! I almost forgot to sneer at Simba as he sulked past!! Imagine that A DOG having a CAT scan! Wolfie told me all about it, how it was a human hospital (hope they cleaned the bed first, before he lay on it, who knows where the Humans have been) and it was all so exciting.
Unfortunately, he then told me the bad news. It was tumours and they could not operate.
The news devastated me. We have been together for so long now. Yes, he does get on my nerves, but that is just because he is a dog, he cant help that.
He is philosophical about it, and he is really having a great time with the freeing up of his joints from the medication that he says that he is feeling better than he has in years. So he is taking full advantage of this.
Simba has been acting a bit weirder since getting back from Christchurch, not sure what, if anything is going on inbetween those hairy ears.
Merlin came back from the vets as well and he is on the way to a recovery, but they are still waiting to get some blood results to see how much long term damage has been done. He said that the vets have now put a warning on the label for this medication and dispenses it in child proof containers, as they had not considered this possibly happening. Its the new meaty flavour to make it more palatable, I suppose.
And me? Well I just kept on doing my usual things. trying not to get in the way. But as things settle back down again around here, watch out!! I have three weeks of being ignored to catch up on. The spotlight WILL be shifting back to me!
Later, my Darlings,
Dessie
xxxxxx
I have been keeping very quiet this past month. So much has been happening that discretion was the better part of valour.
You see, I was just starting to warm up to tell you all about the installation of my own personal cat flap (about time, I hear you say) and how stupid that the dogs had been, how annoying the black kitten was behaving, when suddenly things started to go down hill with them all.
Let me start.
Wolf, never very spry at the best of times, Bless him, started to pant. Now even I know that this is not a good sign, unless Versace has just unveiled the Fall line of Cat fashion.
Mum took him to the vets and he stayed the night. This is always fraught with danger, any trips to that place. so many times, you just never come back. It is something which I avoid at all costs.
Luckily Wolf came back, but he did say to me that he was not feeling any better. Simba carried on in his own little world of Me-Me-Me and Merlin was content to just hunt and annoy everyone with his youthful exuberance.
I tried to maintain an air of calm, but to be honest, I was worried about Wolf. He may be a dog, but he and I have been around together for a long time and I do appreciate our little chats that we have on the world, state of the food front and what silly thing has Simba done today.
Wolf started to get worse with a persistent coughing. Mum and the Bloke really started to get concerned and they even let all of us (apart from the sheep, of course) sleep with them in my, I mean, their bedroom.
what followed next was a number of trips to different vets and Wolf loosing more and more of his hair as it was shaved in patches. I tried to make it a bit easier by calling him a Poodle, but the old guy was getting tired.
Wolf told me that on the last visit that they were talking about tumors or a lung tear. That is so not good. They had given him some medication to take, one tablet was yuck, but a larger one was a yummy meat flavour.
It was amazing what the tablets did to Wolf, his coughing became less (made the sleeping in the bedroom all together, a bit nicer) and his joints stopped hurting, he could move around much freer. He had a new lease on life and he looked and felt years younger.
Things were looking up, I was just starting to think that this crises might be passing and it was time to reassert my role as household Prima Donna back on all its inhabitants.
Then things really went out of control.
I was sleeping in my new day room (oh, the soft bed, sheepskin rug and fine views of the harbour, Mum really outdid herself in ensuring my comfort was paramount) it was just after the Bloke had left to go back to work after coming home while Mum was out for a job interview (HA! work, my little pretty! Make money to buy me food!).
Merlin had been annoying me on my bed when he disappeared into the rest of the house. At last, I thought, a chance to get some more sleep. Mum turned up and walked into the kitchen. She found on the floor, the plastic bag that had been placed on the coal range, containing Wolf's medication. The bag had been destroyed and five tablets missing.
Well, there was only one animal that would be that stupid and the two sheep were in the field eating grass, so that only left the Demon Kitten.
Oh, my darlings, it is always so sad to see a teenager go off the rails. I could see it happening, but no one else seemed interested. first they start off on the cat nip, the think they can handle it, it makes them feel all nice, they are in control. But sooner or later they get into the hard stuff.
Well, the kitten certainly go into the hard stuff. he overdosed quite spectacularly. Mum was straight onto the phone to the Bloke. He called the Vets and they told him to bring the the little addict in for rehab.
Of course, I am sure he was just doing the same sort of attention seeking that the likes of movie stars etc do when they are not receiving the attention that they want or feel they deserve. Perhaps he is wanting to move into a career in this area and was want to kick start it with the publicity. "Merlin checks into Rehab - follow the story of the kitten gone bad, the parties, drugs and booze of this teenage star". It may sell the tabloid press, but it is not the exposure that a cat should court. So demeaning.
So he checks into rehab. A couple of days there he comes back, a bit rough around the edges, but Hey, thats what having your stomach pumped, activated charcoal and drips do to you.
Unfortunately, two days later, he starts vomiting. non stop. so he is back into the vets for an extended stay. I dont mind in telling you that I did take full advantage of the situation. I slept where I wanted to, when I wanted to and was able to eat in peace, without having to walk around always on edge, waiting for the next ambush.
Having said that, i will admit, that I did miss the little guy, not much, just a little bit. Every now and then it is nice to have another feline, showing the ropes to, pointing out their mistakes and shortcomings.
Mum and the Bloke were getting stressed by all the negative activities of all the rest of us. Wolf, in the meantime was starting to look so much better on the medication. But they were still going to go to Christchurch for a possible operation for Wolf, it all depended on what the Quacks up there thought.
So they loaded the dogs up and left me for a little period of respite from them all. It was nice, I managed to get a few more sleeps in than I would normal have achieved if they had all been here.
The next day they came back. Wolf was bursting to tell me what had happened up there. He was fair jiggling from paw to paw in anticipation. He told me that I would never guess what he had done to him. He had had a CAT Scan!! Him, a dog, having a CAT Scan!!
Well, laugh?! I almost forgot to sneer at Simba as he sulked past!! Imagine that A DOG having a CAT scan! Wolfie told me all about it, how it was a human hospital (hope they cleaned the bed first, before he lay on it, who knows where the Humans have been) and it was all so exciting.
Unfortunately, he then told me the bad news. It was tumours and they could not operate.
The news devastated me. We have been together for so long now. Yes, he does get on my nerves, but that is just because he is a dog, he cant help that.
He is philosophical about it, and he is really having a great time with the freeing up of his joints from the medication that he says that he is feeling better than he has in years. So he is taking full advantage of this.
Simba has been acting a bit weirder since getting back from Christchurch, not sure what, if anything is going on inbetween those hairy ears.
Merlin came back from the vets as well and he is on the way to a recovery, but they are still waiting to get some blood results to see how much long term damage has been done. He said that the vets have now put a warning on the label for this medication and dispenses it in child proof containers, as they had not considered this possibly happening. Its the new meaty flavour to make it more palatable, I suppose.
And me? Well I just kept on doing my usual things. trying not to get in the way. But as things settle back down again around here, watch out!! I have three weeks of being ignored to catch up on. The spotlight WILL be shifting back to me!
Later, my Darlings,
Dessie
xxxxxx
25 February 2007
Ha Ha!! The fools!!
Lots to tell you, my faithful band of followers. I am even interrupting my after nap nap to report to you on the recent events in this out of control household. First up, the upgrading of the tradesmans entrance for the Furry brained Ones.
After many years of slavish behaviour, by which they were totally reliant on Mum to tell them when to go out side, when to go to the toilet, when to breath etc, they have finally progressed to the feline level of having their own cat flap.
Of course, they are still to think to figure out how this is used, but I have to say the Wolly (Wolf) is starting to get the hang of it faster than Wimper (Simba). They did need a vigourous re-orientation programme which did involve Mum having to sit on one side of the door and the Bloke on the other, offering words of encouragement and threats in equal proportions.
"Doh! How did I get outside so fast?"
Mum has to show the way for the feebleminded one.
And now it gets even better. I was using Mum's mobile to text the "101 ways to pamper your Feline" help line (Mum is still trying to figure out where her talk time goes to), when I came across the following pictures that had been taken at the last behavioural modification reeducation camp which Mum and the Bloke take Tweedledum to each Tuesday (waste of time, money and effort, if you ask me)
I mean to say, have a look at this!! Does not exactly install any sense of wonderment in the thought processes or capacity of Canine kind, does it? Lets do a bit of a Survivor thing here, shall we? For those of you who think he should be left here in this position, send a text to 1896 calls cost 0.99c per minute (kids please ask your parents first).
No, thats it, there is no other text number for bringing him back home. Think about it!!
BUT THEY NEVER TOOK HIM TO THE AIRPORT!!!!!!!
Oh the wasted opportunity!!!!!
Not sure how much more I can take of this constant dashing of my hopes!!
But, this is the funny part. Last week, the little marauder was taking for a nice little trip to the vets. Lets just say he came back a lesser man than when he left!!
After many years of slavish behaviour, by which they were totally reliant on Mum to tell them when to go out side, when to go to the toilet, when to breath etc, they have finally progressed to the feline level of having their own cat flap.
Of course, they are still to think to figure out how this is used, but I have to say the Wolly (Wolf) is starting to get the hang of it faster than Wimper (Simba). They did need a vigourous re-orientation programme which did involve Mum having to sit on one side of the door and the Bloke on the other, offering words of encouragement and threats in equal proportions.
"Doh! How did I get outside so fast?"
Mum has to show the way for the feebleminded one.And now it gets even better. I was using Mum's mobile to text the "101 ways to pamper your Feline" help line (Mum is still trying to figure out where her talk time goes to), when I came across the following pictures that had been taken at the last behavioural modification reeducation camp which Mum and the Bloke take Tweedledum to each Tuesday (waste of time, money and effort, if you ask me)
I mean to say, have a look at this!! Does not exactly install any sense of wonderment in the thought processes or capacity of Canine kind, does it? Lets do a bit of a Survivor thing here, shall we? For those of you who think he should be left here in this position, send a text to 1896 calls cost 0.99c per minute (kids please ask your parents first).
No, thats it, there is no other text number for bringing him back home. Think about it!!
Or this one, apparently taken on their recent trip to Alexandra over Waitangi weekend. How they thought they could possibly drown, requring life jackets is totally beyond me, I mean to say, the air that fills their heads makes it near on impossible!! Not that I have one, no, of course not, that orange thing in the drawer is an insulated coat, in case I decide to go to Cloisters on a ski trip, ahem.
Now for the Demon Monster. Mum and the Bloke once again raised my expectations by getting the little monster all packed and prepared for a long trip. They even went so far as to make a card up to the Blokes Brother and Sister-in-Law in Auckland, tellling them the flight number and everything.
BUT THEY NEVER TOOK HIM TO THE AIRPORT!!!!!!!Oh the wasted opportunity!!!!!
Not sure how much more I can take of this constant dashing of my hopes!!
But, this is the funny part. Last week, the little marauder was taking for a nice little trip to the vets. Lets just say he came back a lesser man than when he left!!
Doesn't seemed to have slowed him down though, within minutes of getting out of his (My!!) cat box, he was running around the place causing havoc.
Would have been easier to have just encase his paws in concrete, if they wanted to settle him down. Now that is an idea! Is it 1 part cement to 4 parts ballast........?
Anyway, my little chums, time for that nap.
Hugs and Kisses,
Your Leader
10 February 2007
The coming and goings (but unfortunatly, they came back)
Well, it has been like Clapham Junction around here lately. Where to start? Well I suppose that I should do it in some sort of chronological order. Soon after nap number 234 for the day, Mum turns up with my personal travel accommodation suite. At last! I think, DK is finally being got rid of!! But no, she puts me in it instead. Rat Roll!!!! This is not looking good. Surely she has not found out about that unfortunate incident just yet!! I mean, I had managed to cover my tracks very well and had set up the DK as the fall Kitten. But I digress.
I am placed into the back of the black monstrosity that is her vehicle and left by myself. I am looking through the segmented window (they are NOT bars) of my travelling accommodation, trying to see if there is any paperwork or travel documentation around which might indicate that travel was in my future.
Then the hairy ones are placed in to the back as well. Stupid dogs. They treat each car ride as a great opportunity for adventure and excitement. If only that was true.
Sure enough, after a brief journey (without even stopping for a Latte, despite me telling Mum everytime we past a suitable cafe) we arrived at the Vets.
Oh, Man! this never is good news!
In we go, all four of us. I am dragged out of my travel suite and am placed on the examination table. The Quack with the cold thermometer comes over. I try to warn her that if she values her hands that there had better not be any funny business this time.
Strangely enough, the failed medical student was content with only waving a wand over me. She talked to Mum about chips, but I failed to see any takeaways being offered, even though I could have done with some battered cod right about then.
Anyway, back into the cage, I mean, travel accommodation suite I was placed.
Now I knew why I was there, the entire trip had been done for my benefit as I now had a ringside seat to the humiliation of the dogs. Laugh! I nearly hacked up a furball!!!!
First of all, the dreaded thermometer came out. Quick as a flash Simple (Simba) was sporting a new fashion accessory out of a very private place. His goofy and normally strange expression on his mug was accented by this procedure. Very entertaining.
Then it was Wollies (Wolfies) turn. He is a bit smarter than Bimba (relatively speaking, in the same way that a Smartie is more intelligent than an Liquorice Allsort) and he tried to sit down. This manoeuvre should never be attempt whilst having a tube of glass up the backside. I was rolling in my box at this stage.
Then the Bloke turned up. Just finishing another hard days work to keep me in the manner of which I have become accustomed too. It is not easy keeping me in catfood, I tell you. But really, who cares about his labouring? I don't. I keep suggesting to him to dump the others and then he would have more to spend on me!!! Totally reasonable in my mind. But No! He still keeps them around. Never learns.
Just when I did not think that it could get any better, it does!!! Out comes the needle!!! please let it be blue, please let it be blue! But unfortunately, Mum failed to follow through on her frequent threats and the needle was not blue. But at least the dogs got stuck and then had stuff shoved up their nose (I had to pay extra for that last procedure, but it was worth it).
After so much fun, it was time for home. So we all piled back into the car, home for jellimeat and biscuits.
Things settled back into to the normal routine, I ruled the house with a velvet glove, DK spent as much of his time as possible winding me up, the dogs did what ever morons do to fill in their days (run, fetch, remember to breath etc).
Then last weekend, the house was segregated. I was locked OUT of MY bedroom and the DK was locked IN my bedroom. They had left a window open for me, but they had made the opening far too narrow even for my svelte like body shape (NO! I have not put on weight, my fur always looks that taunt).
But I decided that every empty sardine can has a silver lining and so therefore went on an all night party around the neighbourhood, hitting all the high class joints. Haven't done that in quite a while, I can tell you. Managed to get back mid afternoon, just before the rest of the rabble returned from some trip to Central Otago. They may have told me about it prior to leaving, but do I look like I keep tabs on THEIR social calender? I mean, mine is complicated enough!
Me being very gracious and letting DK share my CouchI did make them feel immediately sorry for letting the DK have my bedroom. Fools, I can play them like a violin.
Trying to recover after my all night benderThe next day, Mum and the Bloke went off somewhere (where you ask? Who cares, it didn't involve me). They came back towing a trailer covered with a tarpaulin. What are they up to now?! the tarpaulin is removed to reveal the presence of two, white creatures. They look just like the pictures on some of the cans of jellimeat that I get served.
My mobile dining delights, fresh on the hoofExcellent!! Thinks I, they have now relented to my repeated requests for fresher food and got the meat on the hoof, so to speak. Salivating, I awaited the appearance of lamb cutlets, chops etc. But Mum and the Bloke instead struggled with lifting them one at a time up through the garden and putting them into the paddock. Maybe they are being kept as winter feed for me. Hope they don't leave it too long as I prefer a more tender type of cut.
I have visited the lambs on different occasions, but they seem a bit skittish when I start discussing with them what sauce accompaniments they would suggest being best for Lamb meat. One worrying aspect is that they keep saying that they had heard Mum and the Bloke telling the farmer that they were destined to die of old age. Must have been something told to them to calm their nerves. I mean to say, why else would you have Lambs other than to feed me?
Anyway, must dash, later Darlings.
xxxxxx
Okay!! which one of you smarties decided to put this picture on my blog??!! Oh the indignity!25 January 2007
Humpf!!
Just another day in this crazy household. Here I am trying to get some sleep, contemplating the unfairness of recent events, practicing my air of disdain for when hanging around Mum and the Bloke and, as always, working on my muse for this blog.Suddenly, out of nowhere this little plastic Fireman suddenly came arcing through the air, landing right beside me on the bed. This is not a normal occurrence and so I have to admit that it did take me by surprise.
Not that I let it show, I always maintain poise, and calm at all times. It pays to never let anyone else see you caught off guard. That's Dessie's Tip for Today, my Darlings.
But, back to the sudden appearance of the water fairy. It was immediately followed up with the arrive of the impetuous youth which is personified by the Demon Kitten.
When he is going to grow up and accept the mantle of feline aloofness and Independence?
What then developed was a bit of a Mexican Standoff. He wanted it back, I was not going to let the little imp away with interrupting my sleep, I mean, deep, thoughtful contemplation.
He did try to out stare me, but seriously, do you think that I would crumble under such an amateur attempt as his? Of course not!
So I decided to have a little fun with the the little pain. I grabbed the miniature representation of the community servant and dared him to have a go if he thought he had enough sand in his pockets!
The battle of wills commenced. He tried the old opening gambit of slowly trying to creep forwards. Oh Pleasseee! As if I was not already planning for this and was in fact three moves ahead of him.
So he regrouped and tried to affect an air of indifference, trying to see if he could make me lower my guard, enough for a sneak attack. As if!!
But, Dear Readers, let it not be said that I do not have any interest in our future. It is very important that the youth of today is given some feeling of self worth, even if they are nothing but over energetic bundles of uncoordinated energy. He made a grab for the plastic Trumpton, and I decided with split second timing to let him take it. Of course, any outside observers, not being privy to my charitable actions, may have wrongly reached the conclusion that I was too slow to maintain my control over the toy. Ha!! That could not be further from the truth!
Look at the little Scamp, well chuffed he is at his apparent "victory". I dont think so!!
One day he will think about this moment and see it for what it really was, once again, me asserting my power over him to bend his will, to meet my ends. It really is too easy.
But this is enough for today, I will see how my schedule is for whether or not I will be willing to further share my thoughts with you all. Until then, all ways remember to respect the cat.
Ciao,
xxxxxxxxxxxx
22 January 2007
Oh well, back to it.....
I suppose that is enough of a break and I have punished you all sufficiently with my absence. I am still not happy with the fact that the DK (Demon Kitten) is still here. Do they not know that in fact a Kitten IS just for Christmas. They should still be able to get a refund for him back at the shop. I keep leaving the receipt in obvious places for them. Still no joy though.
I did think that all my wishes had come true when they packaged him off in my old cage. But it seems that they were only taking him to the vets for his jabs. Should have given the blue injection, I say.
Tweedledum and Tweedledummer have been got to as well. That little kitten has them both twisted around his little paw. Just the other day I saw the traitors letting DK sleep with them on their beds! It has even got to the point where the HAS (Hairy Attention Seeker) just lets the kitten bat him around the nose. The fur brained one does not even show his teeth at the kitten's bad manners, he just sits there and whines away to Mum.
One small sense of victory in Mum and the Blokes quite foolhardy decision in getting the little monster, is that they have been experiencing the joys of kittenhood, the incessant attacking of hands and face that this entails.
I smile and chuckle to myself. What goes around comes around.
One immediate benefit of having the little Furball around is the variation in food and the increased quantities. I don't really mind that the biscuits that I now snack on are a kitten formulation, I am sure it means that it will help keep my youthful complexion.
Another plus was the lovely scratching post that Mum and the Bloke built solely for my use. Oh sure, they may talk about it as if they were really reconstructing an old outside laundry, but in reality they covered it with brushwood screen so that I could keep my claws in tip top condition.
It is a bit unsettling though that the DK seems to have figured out a way to get up onto the roof of it as well. This was a refuge I thought I could rely on. It has forced me further and further onto the roof. This has lead to some problems, like the time that Mum and the Bloke thought I had got myself into a position that I could not get down from. I was merely testing my vocal cords by meowing, I was not, repeat, not, calling out for help as they thought. It was a close thing, the Bloke tried to pull me off the roof in the most undignified manner, but I bravely resisted and after a bit I remembered, I mean, decided to come down from the roof, the way that I had got up there in the first place.
Anyway, my darlings, all this talk has quite tired me out. I think that I will go and have a little nap. I think the DK is currently outside. As long as I don't draw attention to myself, it is too busy tormenting Mum and the Bloke to worry about me.
Ciao for now.
xxxxxxxxxxx
I did think that all my wishes had come true when they packaged him off in my old cage. But it seems that they were only taking him to the vets for his jabs. Should have given the blue injection, I say.
Tweedledum and Tweedledummer have been got to as well. That little kitten has them both twisted around his little paw. Just the other day I saw the traitors letting DK sleep with them on their beds! It has even got to the point where the HAS (Hairy Attention Seeker) just lets the kitten bat him around the nose. The fur brained one does not even show his teeth at the kitten's bad manners, he just sits there and whines away to Mum.
One small sense of victory in Mum and the Blokes quite foolhardy decision in getting the little monster, is that they have been experiencing the joys of kittenhood, the incessant attacking of hands and face that this entails.
I smile and chuckle to myself. What goes around comes around.
One immediate benefit of having the little Furball around is the variation in food and the increased quantities. I don't really mind that the biscuits that I now snack on are a kitten formulation, I am sure it means that it will help keep my youthful complexion.
Another plus was the lovely scratching post that Mum and the Bloke built solely for my use. Oh sure, they may talk about it as if they were really reconstructing an old outside laundry, but in reality they covered it with brushwood screen so that I could keep my claws in tip top condition.
It is a bit unsettling though that the DK seems to have figured out a way to get up onto the roof of it as well. This was a refuge I thought I could rely on. It has forced me further and further onto the roof. This has lead to some problems, like the time that Mum and the Bloke thought I had got myself into a position that I could not get down from. I was merely testing my vocal cords by meowing, I was not, repeat, not, calling out for help as they thought. It was a close thing, the Bloke tried to pull me off the roof in the most undignified manner, but I bravely resisted and after a bit I remembered, I mean, decided to come down from the roof, the way that I had got up there in the first place.
Anyway, my darlings, all this talk has quite tired me out. I think that I will go and have a little nap. I think the DK is currently outside. As long as I don't draw attention to myself, it is too busy tormenting Mum and the Bloke to worry about me.
Ciao for now.
xxxxxxxxxxx
26 December 2006
DK update number 2
This bulletin is coming from under the bed covers.
In a shock move yesterday, local celebrity and style Guru Dessie, was forced to look on in horror as Demon Kitten, also answering to Merlin, launched a sneak attack on the property of our feline heroine.
The claiming of Illustrious One's tree by the offender occurred towards the end of an otherwise quiet day in the Ravensbourne Neighbourhood. When asked for comment, Dessie, once referred by herself as 'Queen of all that she surveys', struggled to contain the anger that this act of infamy has produced. "whats next?! My litter tray?" was the all the exasperated feline of distinction could splutter.
" I was hoping the little imposter would have got stuck or fallen at the very least, but i suppose that would have meant that there was justice in this mixed up world" Dessie was reported to have complained.
Repeated attempts by this reporter to obtain the Demon Cats version of events only reuslted in fast manuovering to avoid prolonged attacks on the fingers.
Bulletin ends - Film at Eleven
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