November 2008 Archives

I've just watched the Lockley's new kitten, Kightly, spend 20 minutes knocking a rolled-up piece of paper across the living room.

It's about time that bundle of fluff acted its age, which is nine weeks.

When he gets to my advanced years - and needs 19 hours kip a day - he'll realise life's too precious to frit away by flinging paper about or sitting on humans' knees.

Kightly's even going through the old 'chasing his tail' routine. I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. Then I discovered...birds.

I simply can't stand the way that kitten sucks up to humans. He'll soon discover the only humans worth sucking-up to are the ones allergic to us.

I just love rubbing my legs against someone with a cat phobia. It gives me a warm glow inside. It gives them a nasty rash. If you're lucky, you'll get a shriek.

It's almost as much fun as making a beeline for a guest desperate not to get hairs on their coat.

"You're a disgrace?" I hissed at Kightly as he curled up on someone's lap.

It's not his fault: the house is lacking a positive role model since satellite TV stopped showing re-runs of Top Cat.

In the humans' eyes, Kightly can do no wrong. Each night he wakes them in the wee hours by jumping on their backs.

Mike spent a week badgering his wife to get her nails cut - then realised the kitten was to blame.

But they still let him sleep on the bed.

They let me onto the bed once, screamed and shooed me out of the room.

I was even prepared to pay for the night's board: perhaps they didn't see the dead mouse I'd dropped on the duvet.

I just don't know what's wrong with the kittens of today - they don't know how to misbehave in public. Unless something isn't done soon, they'll be fetching sticks and coming to heel: a proper dog's life.

I never thought the day would come when you needed signs TELLING cats to spit in the street.

In a drastic attempt to stop me attacking Kightly, the Lockleys have bought a water pistol which they spray when I'm about to pounce.

Waste of money, really - in a few months that tomcat they've bought will be spraying all over the place.

Mind you, the pistol has done the trick. Last night Mike missed and hit the hi-fi. The smoking music machine ground to a halt.

That's put paid to those infernal 1970s compilation albums they belt out nightly.

What do you call a cat that has just eaten a whole duck?
- A duck filled fatty puss!

What happened when the cat swallowed a coin?
- There was some money in the kitty.

What does a cat get from watching too many Mickey Mouse films?
- Disney Spells

See you on Saturday for my blog!

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.