Mummy, Cat Whisperer

I love Mummy! She picks me up and holds me over her shoulder then she whispers to me all about how much she loves Her Augustus and how special Gussie is. 

I can’t help it – when she starts telling me all these sweet things, I simply melt into a pile of buttery fluff! I fall back against her head and sort of roll around and crane my neck so I can see her face. 

Sometimes I pat it with my oversized violin-case feet.

Of course, my foot pretty much covers her whole eye and part of her cheek.

She’s my special girl, Mummy is!

Augustus, Cat Burglar

Hee, hee, hee…I stole Mummy’s necklace today, the one Dad gave her for Christmas! She calls it a Diamond  necklace or something like. Anyway, she was taking it off and carelessly laid it out on the dressing table in plain view. Then she walked away - er, well, she turned a bit sideways. Anyhow, it was there, I was there…

the long and short of it is, I nabbed the necklace and made off with it!

Mummy wondered for about half a second what I was so positively animated about, then as I turned to gloat before making my exit, she spotted something sparkly dangling from my teeth. She yelled, I ran! And ran, and ran…. Whoosh – I ALMOST made it to the top of the stairs. Mummy grabbed my leg through the banister and said in no uncertain terms for me to “hand it over.”

I let the treasure go and pleaded not guilty by reason of the fact that it isn’t human nature to overlook something sparkly that has been left unattended, however short a time.

I hoped that might be the end of it but I have a feeling there will be a lecture when Dad gets home.

Breakfast Freebie!

I just got a whole piece of buttery sourdough toast all to myself, and this is how it happened:

Mummy was making the usual breakfast egg, along with some yogurt and fruit. Then she slid a piece of bread into that machine with the sliding buttons and poured a cup of tea while she waited. I sat patiently at her feet, in hopes of some mere morsel (one can see that I am quite starved). 

Finally the toast sprang up, and Mummy smeared deliciously creamy butter all over it – oh, the fragrance, the delightfully sweet aroma of warmed bread and butter!

Well, Mummy must have felt sorry for me, starving as I was; she turned (carelessly tripping over me in the process, I might add) and simply flung the toast at my feet! I was in awe, and not at all in a position to complain about her careless method of delivery. Without further questions, I attacked the crispety-soft treat with relish.

I think Mummy’s mood of generosity lifted quite soon because she did not speak so kindly of that piece of toast landing on the floor, or of cats who “hover mindlessly beneath her toes” while she works, 

whatever that means. 

Never mind all that – I just want more toast from now on!

Paper Trail

You know that white stuff? The stuff that comes on rolls which Mummy hangs from that holder on the bathroom wall? She very thoughtfully folds the end into a neat triangle so that it is hanging down and super easy to pull…that is, she used to, until yesterday. Now the white stuff, which Mummy calls Tee-Pee, is located in a basket on a very high shelf 'away from marauding cats' (Mummy's words, not mine). All because a [tiny] bit of TP [allegedly] got strung randomly through the house – just one roll (1), mind you – and it sort of stuck to the edges of the stone tiles. 

Oh, but not before a smattering of it was knocked into the toilet and got lodged in the drain so that Dad had to call The Plumber (I may have accidentally pushed it further in – trying to help, you know). But geez - it was easy to fix; all the plumber had to do was turn the toilet upside down, remove the TP [and possibly a bar of soap still in its box…that someone who shall remain nameless and whose initials are Nutmeg dumped in at an earlier date] and ‘reseat’ the toilet (very nice manners these plumbers have). 

Regardless, Mummy and Dad conferred and determined that it was Cat Mischief (I never heard of him), then said it cost about 500 pounds worth of fish to fix the problem. (I personally do not think our fish ought to be brought into the matter but parents are so indiscriminate sometimes.) At any rate, we are officially banned from access to the Tee-Pee. So there it is. Now we have nothing to look forward to in our daily stint through the house.

Wait a minute…is that a BIGGER roll of white stuff standing on a silver thingy on the kitchen counter?

I say! Gotta go…

Mummy and Dad are Weird

Every day Mummy and Dad go through this crazy ritual, and I simply cannot understand it. I must first explain that they *ahem* don’t have any fur. Well, Dad has fur on his chest but otherwise, they are bald. Well, except for that patch on top of their heads (go figure). The point is, Mummy and Dad aren’t built exactly like the rest of us cats, and they have really strange habits.

Take bathing, for instance: when we kitties want to bathe, we simply whip out the attached sponge (code word “Tongue”) and, using our built-in no rinse cleaner, are fresh in no time. Mummy and Dad, on the other paw, feel compelled to stand under running water (code word Shower), lather up with all over bubbles (code word Soap, and which I think niff, personally), then stand in the water until the bubbles go away. I mean to say, if you don’t want the bubbles on you, then why put them there to begin with? And further, wouldn’t it be simpler to bathe like a normal person (me, for example) instead of dousing yourself *shiver* with water which only makes you wet and cold?

Not only do they go through this silly ritual, they do it TWICE a day AT LEAST! Dad sometimes comes in the house absolutely covered in ook from playing in the yard (Mummy calls it Yard Work but I think Dad just tells her that so she won’t suspect he enjoys playing with his big, noisy gadgets. Mummy will fall for anything, apparently). Under these conditions, he takes another ‘bath’..er, Shower. So I am intrigued and have begun stationing myself on the counter next to the Shower any time someone goes in, then I fling the curtain back and take a look inside, just to be sure what I am seeing is real. 

One day, perhaps, I will figure it out.

Until then, I plan to continue my vigil until Mummy and Dad reveal what ails them…

or at least until they give me a drink from the faucet.

Those Darlin’ Clementines

Oh, my darlin’,
Oh, my darlin',

Oh, my daaarlin’ clementines,

You were sit-ting on the table

In a pret-ty crystal bowl.

It was quiet,

No one was around,

So I snaaaatched one up and ran.

Batting it this way,

Batting it that way,

All about the kitchen floor.

I was having fun,

Having so much fun,

That I faaaailed to notice when

Mummy opened up the door and

Made her way si-lently in.

Now I’m on the run,

Fearing for my life,

As She graaaabbed the tiny sphere.

 I am hoping

To be able,

To come out before next year!

Pure Bliss

What is that saying about Ignorance? Yesterday, I recounted the regrettable actions of The Plant and my response to its impertinence. I may also have carelessly boasted that there would be no evidence linking me to the...er, Incident. Ladies and Germs, I admonish you to always, always look back. I wear a rather fluffy coat. A fluffy coat which sheds. Mummy has in her hand, at this moment, what appears to be a chunk of Augustus fur. It came, says she, from The Plant, or rather [in her terms], “what is left of it.” She called me into the dining room and pointed it out. I asked to which plant did she refer?

She said, “The flattened one.”

 “Oh, that one?”, I said. And followed up with something about how I always thought very highly of that plant.

 “Don’t pretend ignorance, Augustus. I know it was you”, she said.

“Oooh?”, I said.

Then she presented The Evidence, accompanied by a lecture so stiff it could walk on its own four legs. I am now in big trouble, banned from the dining room and threatened with Dad….

…Wait a minute…threatened with **aheh** Dad???

And I was getting worried! Heh, heh, heh…