My poor mate

This photo is the pet of some people I thought were very nice when they came to stay. It seems I was very wrong. I just can't believe they would do this to a nice, friendly dog like Milo. Poor chap.

How humiliating. I'm phoning the RSPCA at the earliest opportunity.

And I just hope Mr and Mrs Owner don't get any daft ideas like this....!

Cat mechanic

The Big Softie came back with a mouse the other day. Stupid bat let it go and it ran under the car so I chased after it - the Big Softie is far too large to get under there (and scared).

While I was there I thought I'd check the brakes and the air filter.

My playground has gone

They've got it in for me. All my playground trees are disappearing. They are cutting them all down and muttering about more light.

Never mind that. What about us cats? The scratching posts are missing, the birds aren't coming so close to the house any more and The Big Softie won't get herself stuck in that pear tree again.

That was so funny. I really really laughed. She got stuck in a fork in the branch and Mr Owner had to go and rescue her. It's the funniest thing I've seen for ages.

Here's a picture of me (Figgy) in what is left of my favourite tree (the fig).

What's Big Brother?

There are mutterings abroad about a Big Brother. I don't know what that means but they are thinking about getting one for me.

Does that mean that I have to live in a house with lots of dysfunctional people? Do I have to argue and cry? Do I have to sleep lots and complain about the food?

Hang on, no change there then....

Do I get to meet Davina? Now she looks like a lady who would like a beautiful boy like me.

Another new routine

Unfortunately they spotted me in the bedroom and have made us all sleep in the kitchen again - unless I manage to escape and have a night on the tiles.

But, I am having some lovely evenings with Mr O. I wait until he settles down in his big red chair and then I climb on his lap and stay there until bedtime.

It's lovely and cosy and I only stick my claws in his leg when I feel as if I'm going to fall off.

Birth-day

Mrs O had something called a birth-day yesterday. She didn't look too happy about getting older.

I don't know why she fusses. I age seven years in every one of hers. That makes me about 10 years old now. Heh, heh! Roll on puberty, I can't wait to be a stroppy cat teenager!

How do I get out of here?