...Er, um, Hello!

My name is Augustus. I have parents. Sometimes life can be difficult. I possess the great skill of being able to charm the socks off of anyone who chances to spot me, a rare occurrence indeed. [The spotting, that is; not the charming!]
However, for you, Dear Reader, I am prepared to divulge my deepest thoughts and perspective of the world, mostly because if I don't tell somebody what is going on around here, I am going to pop!
But be warned, proceed with caution: Living with Mummy and Dad can be rather harrowing at times...

Wednesday, November 7, 2012


Mummy announced today that I am no longer Man of the House.

At least, temporarily.

She says it is because I have taken up a bit of a habit of yelling at her when I don’t get my way, say in getting my drink from the faucet in a timely manner.

Well…what is wrong with having your drinks on time, say I?

And when Mummy fails to be forthcoming with the drinks, what is wrong with a little verbal reminder?

Speaking of time, Mummy had the audacity to change all the clocks in the house this past Sunday, so now we poor little kits are getting our meals an hour LATER! What sort of rot is this? She says it was not she who changed the time but I saw her do it with my own lovely green eyes.

She isn’t fooling me.

So I am forced to be a bit demanding of late, insistent that she not let the standards drop even if she cannot keep time straight. If she wants to change time [and claim it was some invisible third party], that is alright by me, provided she gets up an hour earlier to compensate. To ensure this, I have been practicing my “alarm clock” technique:

Step 1 - Tickle face with whiskers
Step 2 – Whisk tail across face after whiskers are brushed aside
Step 3 – Walk across tummy
Step 4 – Stand on back after Mummy turns over to avoid me walking on tummy
Step 5 – Yowl uncontrollably

Say what she will, this method is extremely effective. She gets up (eventually) and dutifully, if begrudgingly, doles out the foodstuffs. But this morning she said she had had enough of my cantankerousness (talk about the pot calling the kettle black!) and stated emphatically that I was no longer Man of the House until such time as I straightened up my cattitude.

I am sure I don’t know what she means. 

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