Showing posts with label Cat Tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cat Tales. Show all posts

Friday, March 5, 2021

Ethel the PIrate Cat

yohoho and a bottle of milk
meowed the pirate kitty
as it scaled the yardarm without and skill
high on catnip and boozy ...

boozy red wine
boozy red wine
high on catnip and boozy red wine

red red wine, she went on to yowl, stay close to meeeeee
*hic* oopsy 
she fell
just as they sailed into Sydney

Thursday, July 5, 2018

Not quite picnic at hanging rock but ...

Bokkie was deeply unimpressed by Snowballs presence.

He lured him into chasing him down the stormwater drains this morning.

Bokkie returned 15 - 20 minutes later.
Looking smug.

Poor Snowball has not been seen since.

What did Bokkie do to Snowball?

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Oh dear ...

... poor Suki was not pregnant, or at least not successfully pregnant.

1.3 grams of pusy infected uterus was removed from my poor sick pussy.
(I couldn't resist an are you being served moment there, sorry peoples)

She forgave me for her first fearfilled foray into the outside world 10 hours or more later, but has now ostracised me since the painkilling injection has worn off.

Suki has always been the most nervy and feral of all my cats.
She can hear a blister pack from rooms away and will hide behind the stove where I cannot reach her for hours, sigh.

All I have to do is look at her in an interested way to scare her into the unknown  hidden pockets of my duplex.

I only know two of her hideaways.
Unfortunately she has four or five.

She is supposed to get her stitches out Saturday, and I am not quite sure if I'll manage it.

She only half destroyed the vets office.

The vet said she was very well behaved once she was wrapped up and covered in a towel.

Funnily enough she likes a pat, as long as you don't physically handle or move her in any way.  I have quite enjoyed the (i now know,  pain inspired) assertiveness of the last couple of weeks.

Ive always thought she would enjoy a house of own without the competition of her siblings.


Sunday, December 31, 2017

I sound like ...

... a nagging fishwife, as I scold Bokkie.

What kind of time do you call this? I say at 5.30 pm.
I came home early especially to spend some quality time with you and you weren't here.

I called and I called and I called.
Where were you! You have another family, don't you!  I accuse.
You've found someone with airconditioning, I suppose.

I feed him a snack.
It is too early for dinner.
He gives my hand a nice little face rub and eats, as I stand with crossed arms and scowlling.  Occasionally muttering discontentedly.

He finishes his snack and does his little musical thrill for attention.
I ask if he wants to come down?
(His feeding bowl is atop the old fridge I have yet to organise to be taken away).
He indicates he maybe wants to go out.

No way!
You just got here!
I haven't seen you all day!

I stand in front of the screen door with arms and legs spread to block it.
Nonononono.
No.
You can come to the bed and thats it.



Saturday, May 20, 2017

WARNING - Sad post alert - Last saturday ...


















... my beautiful Pease Blossom ...
  (a boy, just to clarify)
((my main cat, just to be more clarifcific)) ...
passed away, convulsing in my arms.
He had renal failure and was not robust in his illnesss. Many times choosing not to eat.

If i were rich he would have spent weeks on drips and bi-weekly blood tests and over $100 monthly pills.

Such was not possible.

He would hide if a car pulled up in front of a neighbours house.
When at the vets he would need to be force fed unless i could visit, for he would not eat or defect if i were not present.

He always slept on my hip, or back or stomach.
He would be on my lap if i were still.
Or on my back if i so much as leant slightly forward.
He liked back-surfing.
I would take him on trips around the house like so.

He waged a war with the Tablet, where he won if he sat closer to my face than the screen.

I had to work last Saturday.
I work every Saturday now because no one else wants to work saturdays, even though they know i would like to have two days off in a row at least once a month. Even though i cover all their shifts whenever they don't want to work them.

The manager was on leave, so i didn't feel able to not work.

Blossom waited until i came home.

I rinsed his mouth out under the tap and bundled him in a blanket, stroking his poor head.

He seemed to give me a purr, though that could well have been my overstrained imagination.

I cradled his corpse for far longer than was probably necessary because i couldn't differentiate between the blood pulsing in my ears and a heartbeat.

He is currently in my freezer pending a decision on burial.

Its been raining alot.
The irony is fierce.
It rarely rains here.
We have been on level three water restrictions for months.
The radio station personalities are calling Townsville "the Dome".

My yard is underwater, so burial with commerative garden is unfeasible at present.

I am very sad.
He was a very nice cat.
He was only nine.




Tuesday, November 1, 2016

The unknowable ...

... inscrutable mind of the feline.

What is Blossom thinking when gifting his daily present of plant matter?




Friday, September 30, 2016

Oh dear ...

... i think my sister was a great deal more upset by my cat bite than i was.

Nieces cat renamed Baby, formerly known as Niagi (spelling unsure) though the most placid of cats, potentially voted most likely to be mistaken for a stuffed toy, has a whole other side previously unknown to me.


Sunday, August 14, 2016

I have cat hair up my nose

You know that thing in baseball where two people take turns putting one hand above the other on the bat to decide who goes first, or whatever?

Thats kind of what Mary-cat and Blossom-cat do with their positions on my body. Blossom might start on my lap. Mary will settle above. Then later if i move or unsettle them, Blossom will take the opportunity to settle on my chest, and so on and so forth.

The one who gets close enough to my face to smother me wins.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Purring like a fire engine


Oh god, the guilt

She is on my lap ... voluntarily !!!!

She is never on my lap voluntarily.
She hides behind the stove if a car parks to close.
Oh i feel so bad.


Problem cat

One of my cats has quite bad flea dermatitis. I am experimenting with different flea treatments for her to see which one will suit best. In the meantime i have put a bucket on her head ... well, not an actual bucket - one of those plastic collars to try and stop some of the over grooming for a bit.

She dont like it.
Admittedly its only been five minutes, but she is mostly walking backwards at the moment cause the plastic snagging on objects is disturbing her equalibrium (however that is spelt).

Oh the guilt!
Oh how a bit funny it is, but no, bad Sammy - slaps wrist.

Maybe she'll end up on kitty prozak?
Maybe shes just very tense?

Maybe i'll end up giving her daily coconut oil massages like the people i googled?

Have a flower

Monday, March 28, 2016

We always hurt the ones we love most

So ... on his last visit to my sister's house my beautiful little three month old kitten broke some plates and cups.  This visit he broke my nieces toe (they were playing chasie and she didn't make the corner).



He shall be renamed 'Springbok Bonebreaker, the Destroyer'.


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

A pet story with a happy ending

Once upon a time a pretty calico kitten was given to a family as a birthday present for their little girl.  She was excited have her very own owners and a little girl to love and she purred and played and was as cute as she could be so her new owners love her.

Little did the innocent little calico kitten know, but the little girls parents didn't like pets.  They did not teach their little girl not to pull her tail, but laughed instead when she hurt the little calico kitten.  If the little kitten, in her pain and bewilderment, hissed or in any other way did not submit to this rough treatment the mean parents would strike her and punish her.

A lowly servant of the mean parents would be kind to her and give her pats and protest when the mean father said things like "animals don't feel pain" when they were inflicting full force smacks to the poor little calico kittens soft and tender nose.  Or laughing that he thought he had seen some blood come from her eye when he had 'accidently' shut her head in a door.

The little calico kitten took to sculking and hidding.  She was so scared she didn't want to walk across the room when the mean parents were present to go outside to answer the call of nature.  She crossed her legs and squirmed and held, but finally found a safe, discrete sandy spot where she could take a dump under cover of fake jungle-like leaves.

One day the mean father discovered her falsely verdant toilet and was very angry.  He yelled at the little calico kitten.  He hit her.  He grabbed her up and shook her.  He threw her across the room into a wall.  The poor little calico kitten was very afraid and shivered in terror at the anger of the mean man and ran and ran and ran, but there was no where the poor little calico kitten could hide where the mean man could not find her.

The man grabbed her up and took her outside to where an old dog house was sitting on a cement slab.  He tied the scared little calico kitten to the little house with a short piece of rope.  The poor little calico kitten could not even reach the grass. 

There she sat, bound to her prison in the full glare of the cruel summer sun for days and days and days, or at least two weeks.  The lowly servant girl would visit her and be kind to her, but was not allowed to untie the poor little calico kitten.

The lowly servant girl pleaded for the little calico kitten.  She said to the mean man you don't want the kitten, let me take her home.  Perhaps the mean man felt bad for what he had done.  Or perhaps he just didn't want have to feed the little calico kitten anymore.  The mean man said yes you may take the cat.

So even though the mother of the lowly servant girl had told her daughter "don't bring anymore animals home" she rang the mother and said bring the car around, we have a new pet.

The little calico kitten found it very strange in her new home.  People wanted to pat her.  They wanted her to sit on next to them on the couch.  They did not yell at her or hit her.  She was allowed to come and go as she liked.  Even when the little kitten had a few accidents in strange places and earned the nickname "The Shittin' Kitten' she was still treated nicely and even given little treats in the kitchen when the mother of the servant girl was cooking.

Though she became quite plush and portly in her age, she never quite got over her time of trouble and confinment and in one notable incident went missing for an extended period of time only to be found holed up in a drawer.

A happy pet story

Once upon there was a stray white and tabby cat. This tabby cat meowed for two weeks at the window a house until one of the people inside the house took him in and fed him.  It had a great big abcess on it's head and the people in the house took him to the vet and put anticeptic on the great gapping wound twice a day until he was better.

This cat decided to stay with the people and their two cats, even though one of the cats was quite naughty and would leap out from underneath furniture at it at odd unsuspecting moments and even though he was much bigger than the naughty cat he never thumped the living daylights out of her like wot she deserved.

The no longer stray white and tabby cat was allowed to sleep on the bed when ever he wanted too.  When the other two cats complained at sharing the space, because it was only a single bed, the person told the other two cats to shush up and not be so mean.

The white and tabby cat was given a collar and a name tag and fed twice a day and slept in the sun by the window in the mornings and when one of the people came home from work he would jump up on her lap and be petted and purr and purr and purr.

The End