October 2008 Archives

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."

What is white, sugary, has whiskers and floats on the sea?

A catameringue!

See you here tomorrow for my full-length blog!

Thought for the day.

Dogs come when called.

Cats have answering machines and might get back to you.

It's a moisturiser for cats...

"We spend a fortune on skin care (over £650 million at the last count), yet we pay very little attention to our pets' skin health, despite them suffering the same problems as us.

While your cat or dog is roasting in front of the fire this Christmas make sure his skin is kept moisturised, just as you do your own, or he could be scratching his way into the new year.

Felt a pang of guilt last night: something I haven't been touched by since I fanged hold of Mrs Cooper's budgie.

There I was, curled-up on the plush leather sofa of the posh couple who take me in every night because they think I'm a stray, and what should I hear through the leaded windows? Only Mike calling frantically for me from the paddock outside.

He and Julie are blissfully unaware that I divide my time between Chateau Lockley and the retired couple's mock-Tudor detached, 'Dun Accounting'.

By day, I'm Keogh the Chav cat. By night, I'm Mittens: a naff name, but they can call me anything as long as they don't call me late for dinner.