Monday, 9 December 2013
Wednesday, 20 November 2013
Zozo. Bubblebutt (which I can tolerate when said affectionately in private, but hate, when said in front of company).
When I catch my reflection I can't help hearing Steven Tyler's voice singing "Every time when I look in the mirror, all those lines on my face getting clearer".
There is Nira, who is incredibly tuned into my every mood, need and desire. She knows when i want to play or be cuddled. She is aware of the interplay between my constant craving for food and my vanity/body image issues. She knows that I struggle with internet use, often going online to educate myself, only to end up overspending on my favourite shopping sites. She can tell that I struggle with my uncertainty over how best to fulfill my role as the family cat. She notices my tough facade and my inner fears. There is Len, who is completely unaware of my states. He picks me up when the urge strikes him, he grabs my paws despite my biting him, and he sometimes wraps my head in a kitchen towel and says I've got a starring role in Yentl. I put up with him. There is the kid, Stav. He used to play with me, but is now a teen and completely self-absorbed. The advantage is that I can trick him into feeding me after I have already eaten once because he isn't paying attention. I like his lap during long video game sessions, although sometimes the games are too upsettingly realistic.
Nira stumbled upon me one day at the back of a pet food store, in a big cage with about 10 other homeless kittens. She was shopping for toys to try and stimulate the other recent rescue cat that showed up in the backyard and didn't leave. He is my buddy Jack. The toys didn't help him. He's a simple minded fellow. He is only interested in going outside, which he does daily, on a leash. He returns with all sorts of unusual smells. I have never been outside except for short visits to the vet and one longer visit for my emergency sex change, 3 years ago. Since then, I have been practicing Mindfulness to accept my gender ambiguity.
"I think it's time to eat."
Eating. Licking Nira to wake her up so she can feed me. Walking over her, back and forth. Pretending I haven't been fed. Beginning to beg for food by banging my bowl 2 hours before meal time. I like my weekly mani-pedi, as it pays me a kibble per claw. Lying across keyboard, book or newspaper. Drinking out of peoples' water glasses when they aren't looking. Killing catnip toys. Hiding from imagined dangers. Talking to the birds in the backyard birdbath.
Food, followed by a stint on a lap while watching the "Dog Whisperer" or any nature show about birds. After TV I like to go have snacks. Nira taught me to "sit", "stay" and catch food in mid air. I submit because it clearly gives her a great deal of pleasure, and I will do anything for food.
I love my mix of expensive "Indoor Light" and "Urinary Health" food. I also love to lick plates in the sink when I can get away with it. I've even been caught making off with cooked broccoli.
Recently someone who saw my photo suggested I may be a Norwegian Forest cat. I googled it and couldn't believe there was a cat who looked just like me! What a boost to my self image after such humble beginnings with those pedestrian hyperactive kittens at the back of that dingy shop. I have gotten quite a big head over it.
I hate Marcel the vet. He said I was fat. I just thought I was big boned. I like to terrorize the neighbour dog, Kirby, when he visits. I whack him in the head. He is so afraid that he won't come in unless his owner carries him inside.
If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
A bowl of food in every room.
Which celebrity would you most like to meet?
Cesar Millan, because I love his show and want to boss around all the dogs.
Tom Cox, because he seems like a softie and I think I could wrap him around my paw.
Which of the cats in Under The Paw, Talk To The Tail and The Good, The Bad And The Furry would you most like to be stuck in a lift with?
I think I have the most in common with Ralph as he shares my narcissistic traits, although I think I am more intellectual. Hopefully, we wouldn't be stuck in the lift long enough for him to bore me. The Bear would trigger my angst and we would just bring each other down.
Sunday, 17 November 2013
If some Japanese scientists had designed miniature versions of The Bear and Ralph, I don't think they could have come up with anything better than Sutekh and Osiris, two cats recently rescued by Sharon Morley, a reader of my books from Huddersfield.
Monday, 11 November 2013
Apparently my new microchip catflap can store the chip numbers of up to 32 cats. Can't help being intrigued about the conversation between the manufacturers that led to this, during the catflap's creation. "Yep: I think 32 is the number. Everyone knows having 32 cats is ok. But 33? That's just WEIRD."
Monday, 21 October 2013
I'm moving house tomorrow. This means that The Bear, my oldest cat, will be parted forever from his unrequited Last Of The Summer Wine love interest, Biscuit. As those who've read my cat books will know, Biscuit is the Nora Batty to The Bear's Compo: a grumpy elderly lady cat owned by my nextdoor neighbours, Deborah and David, who doesn't suffer fools gladly, and who, for many years, The Bear has unsuccessfully attempted to woo, mostly by staring mournfully at her with his nose pressed up against nextdoor's kitchen window. The other day, I received the following message from David: