When it comes to the humans, the new kitten is letting the side down.

No wonder I hiss at him.

Kightly sits on their laps. I sit on their laps but remain attached - claws imbedded in flesh - when they get up.

Once Mike Hoovered the front room with me clinging to his nether regions. It put a spring in his step, I can tell you.

The postman still thinks he wears a fur codpiece.

Before they brought Kightly into Chateau Lockley, Julie picked me up and cooed: "We're bringing home a little kitten and you've got to look after it."

I took the phrase 'look after it' in a Mafia, contract killing, context.

Since then, they've been on round-the-clock sentry duty trying to protect the moggie midget.

The Lockleys have even called in a cat expert in a bid to build bridges between the two of us.

She reckons they should try to distracting me with toys. "Just tap a furry ball," she advised.

I've been trying to do that to Kightly for a fortnight. More slap, actually.

On the rare occasions they've taken the kitten downstairs, I've been kept at bay with a broom.

The lad over the road tried to stroke Kightly. I won't say where I clawed him, but it earned him an extra year in the church choir.

The cat over-the-road is mustard at metalwork.
Every time he's sick on the carpet he makes a bolt for the door.

* THOUGHT FOR THE DAY...Make your mark in this world - spray in each corner.

Come on, you cool cats - send us pictures of you, or even videos. But remember, this is a human-free zone. Send them to webmaster@sundaymercury.net

Look at this. See the way he's talking softly and stroking me. I'll bet he's going to put a pill in my mouth.

I'm right. He's picked me up and is holding me in that bottle-feeding position.

Here's it comes...
Tell you what - he's determined: I've bit his arm twice and he still hasn't let go.

He has now - it's time to scarper.

He might have given up - he's gone to the cupboard and uncorked a bottle.

No, he's having another go. He's edging towards the curtain I'm clinging onto. Damn, he's got me and pinned me to the carpet and is trying to open my mouth.
I've got his finger and have started clawing his arm again.

At last he's let go.

He's looking for the pill. It's stuck in his hair.

He's looking for me. I'm on the lampshade.

He might have given up. He's pouring another drink.

Hold on - he's put a Marigold glove on. He's going to try again.

It's time for Plan B - bite the other arm.

He might have given up. He's pouring another drink - and cursing.
I think I've hurt him, though: he's staggering and slurring his words.

Wait a second - he's grabbed a towel.

What the hell...he's wrapped me in it. His pinned my legs to the floor. He's trying to push the pill in my mouth.

I'm spitting and the fur's flying. I'm free.

The pill's under the sofa...so am I. His hands under the sofa...I'm fencing with it.
I think I've hurt him: he's crying and swearing.

He might have given up. He's poured another drink.

He has given up! He's getting the vacuum cleaner out to suck up the fur scattered around the house.

He's fallen over the cleaner and is just lying on the floor weeping. The pill is still stuck in his hair.

Brave bloke, though: he's just given himself TWO tablets - and didn't spit once.

I'm fed-up with dogs getting all the plum jobs.

Guide dogs for the blind, sniffer dogs, mountain rescue dogs...

What about us cats? It's downright discrimination.

I'd like to do something for the community - other than kill mice - but is there an opening?

Is there hell as like.

Naff cat jokes of the week...

Q What looks like half a cat?

A The other half.

Q What happened when the cat ate a ball of wool?

A She had mittens.

Q What do you get if you cross a cat with a parrot?

A A carrot.

Q What do cat actors say on stage?

A Tabby or not tabby.

Oh yes ...

There seems to be some confusion over who runs this house - me or the humans.

If you train people correctly - rub against their legs when they please you or sit on their laps occasionally - they won't give you any trouble.

Mine, however, are completely feral.

Leave them together for too long and they fight like me and dogs. They moult all over the place...the sofa is covered with jackets.

And they're dirty: I've yet to see any of them lick their nether regions.

They are so cruel, too.

They don't kill their prey quickly - they chuck them in this ice-cold white box called a fridge.

There's a chicken in there now that must've really annoyed them: her head's gone and they've pulled all her feathers out. If that wasn't enough, they've tied the bird's legs together.

That's just torture.

I dread to think what they did to that poor lamb, but there's only his leg left.

Worst of all, however, they've forgotten who the boss is.

Last night, believe it or not, Julie tried to shift me off the chair

To start with, I gave her an 'Oi! I used to be a God in ancient Egypt' glance, but she continued to gently prod me.

I twitched my tail, but then she actually tried to pick me up.

I feel terrible. I hate smacking my humans - but sometimes hissing isn't enough: you have to use your paw.

She gave a squeal and backed off, clutching her hand and calling me naughty, which is a bit rich...she was the one trying to nick my chair.

That woman takes not the blind bit of notice of yours truly - I had to wait by the door for five minutes before she got up and opened it.

But when a mouse comes in and tells her to jump, she jumps. That really does get up my nose.

Ever wondered what cats think about?

Here are the top topics on my mind:

* I could have sworn I heard the can opener.

* Is there something I'm not getting when humans make noise with their mouths?

* Why doesn't the Government do something about dogs?

* If dogs serve humans, and humans serve cats, why can't cats ever get these stupid dogs to do anything for us?

* Would humans have built a vast and complex civilisation of their own if we cats hadn't given them a reason to invent sofas and can openers in the first place?

* Oh, and yes, If there's a God, how can He allow neutering?

See you here tomorrow with my blog!

Calling all Keogh the Cat feline fans.

Send me your pictures.

I want a moggie gallery up and running

Even better, let's have some funny cat photos.

Or videos, even ...

Have you seen the 'missing' poster outside my house?

It's a bloody liberty.

"Missing - tortoiseshell cat, shy, skinny, answers to name 'Keogh'. If found, do not approach. She can be bad tempered. Reward - £5."

Even my mates wouldn't twig it was me from that description.

I mean, what about 'sensitive, gsoh, likes going out and killing things - loves fish'?

And I think the word's lithe, not skinny.

Would they rather have a cat like the one over the road, who has more chins than lives? Every time she strolls into the front room she polishes the wooden floor with her stomach.

I'm not bad-tempered, I'm sensitive: so sensitive, I sometimes spit.

I may sue - that poster has definitely harmed my reputation. Fancy suggesting I answer to my name. They've made me a laughing stock among cats on the block.

And the picture didn't do me any favours. I mean, they could've snapped me when I wasn't eating: eating a rat, anyway. Haven't they heard of Photoshop?

As for the five quid reward...that really hurts. They offered £25 when a Siamese in our village went AWOL - and I'm a much better 'mouser'.

I was thinking of returning home tonight, but now I'm staying out until they up the cash. I've got a certain standing in the community!

At least they offered a reward - unlike the owners of Lucky. Mind you, they were the ones responsible for him going missing.

First, the man drove five miles away and dumped him. By the time he got home, Lucky was already walking back up the driveway.

Next time, he took Lucky ten miles away and let him loose. Again, my mate found his way back.

Finally, the owner travelled miles and miles away until he reached the middle of a great forest and again dumped Lucky.

Three hours later, the bloke rang his wife. "Is the cat there?" he asked.

"Yes," said the wife.

"Just put him on the line, will you?" he asked. "I need directions."