Let’s Celebrate

What a purrfect position for my new Scritching Post

What a purrfect position for my new Scritching Post (Click to bigify)

Wow there are only 37 sleeps until Christmas but until today it has felt like the middle of winter with our daily temperature being way under 20C (68F)! This blog is written to celebrate the arrival of summer plus an early pressie just for me!

It has taken me 11 months to shred my old scritching post back to bare wood and to celebrate this momentous occasion huMum took advantage of the sale at our local Petstock shop and purchased a brand new one! I hesitate to suggest that this was more a present for huMum than it was for me as I had given up trying to clean and sharpen my claws on the old post and taken to the carpet with the lesson being… flying missiles in the shape of anything that is close to huMum’s hand will arrive suddenly and scarily right where I’m scritching (she has been practicing her cricket bowling ready for the 1st Ashes test which is to start on Thursday *excited ears*).

Out with the old and in with the new. The new has a 5 gold stars stamp of approval! My special smell test said delicious (huMum had sprayed it with catnip) and a few tentative scritches proved that it has a respectable coverage of wool. I’m so pleased that it is the same colour as the old one… cream so will be a purrfect contrast to my lush, shiny black panfur.

Oops um *embarrassed ears*. “Are you giggling at me huMum?” I’m sure I put just the right amount of spring in my paws for a purrfect takeoff and landing? How come I missed and landed so ungracefully back on the floor? What? “Are you telling me it is 6cm (2.4 inches) taller than our old post?” Takes step back and makes purrfect landing on second attempt *proud ears*. Oh I like that I’m now even closer to the nom preparation area.

Today huMum and I celebrated the arrival of the summer and a 29C (84F) maximum temperature with a garden clean up. This involved huMum grunting and groaning as she weeded our pavers and garden beds… she filled the huge green wheelie bin to the brim *impressed ears* while I supervised from the shade of whichever camellia tree she was closest too. We are worried about our new lemon tree. Its madly growing but yet to flower or fruit (second season) also two Pittosporum have gone to heaven and need replacing. Our garden shop to purchase list is very long as it includes sugar cane mulch, citrus tree and camellia food plus a few of the lovely Princess Lavenders which I think will make purrfect nests for moi. Enough said as huMum needs to bathe her weary body and put ointment on her sunburnt nose and all the rose scritch wounds. I’ve very *pleased ears* as something other than me likes to scritch her!

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Purrfect results - sunset today in our garden! (Click to bigify)

Purrfect results – sunset today in our garden! (Click to bigify)

Winter & Rain are the Pits !!

Winter is two days away in Melbourne but I can’t complain as we have had a very mild, dry autumn. This mild weather has enabled me to continue my “war against vermin”, in particular, mice and rats. *Proud Ears* So since 30th November, 2012 we have successfully bought huMum 55 mice and 3 gianormous rats. You may not believe me but I assure you this total is correct as I’ve been noting every one of them in my “kill” diary.

Think this was number 20?

Think this was number 20?
Right click on picture for larger image

Tonight winter arrived two days early and with a vengeance with a low of 9C = 48F and a high of only 16C = 60F. Did I mention it was raining too?

I love, love summer rain but not this chilly winter rain. In summer I’m happy to patrol, hunt and stroll around my neighbourhood in the rain, with the occasional visit home for a quick invigorating towel rub.

Last year I was diagnosed with a smidgeon of arthritis but after treatment I was all better and huMum swore she would never put me through the indignities of having to see Jenny Vet every week as it was so very traumatic for me. This year we have decided to treat my arthrisits with glucosomine and fish oil. The third part of the treatment is for me to stay inside our warm home for long periods each day/night. No arguments from me with this as even I know being cold means being sore and stiff.

We do have a MAJOR problem … there is no garden inside the house for me to use as my potty. For the last week huMum has been testing a litter tray in the laundry but I thought it was a new bed and now spend several hours a day sleeping there. I haven’t used a litter tray since I found my forever home with huMum and she kept me locked in for 3 weeks while I recovered from my little girls operation. Even then I only deigned to use it once a day!

Yes I must admit – I’m a once a day girl and love visiting the neighbours house to make those deposits. Thankfully they have a rather wild back garden so I am well camouflaged! Hehehe

Tonight was a problem for me … it was raining that bitter cold rain we see in Melbourne in winter. There was a brief pause at about 10.30am and I made a dash for what I hoped would be dry soil under one of the Camellia Trees … blawky mud caught in my nails but I persisted and finally got down to some dry soil and did my business and rushed back to huMum standing at the door worrying about me. She let me clean my toenails on my scratching pole and then gave me the most delicious towel rub … I tell you I was purring like a steam train.

Dry, snug & warm ... purrfect bliss!

Dry, snug & warm … purrfect bliss! See the tongue?
Right click on picture for larger image

NOTE: HuMum would like some suggestions on how she might convince me that the litter tray is not a new bed? As our winter deepens so too will my sore stiff bones and she is worried that I will remain determined to go potty in the rain and cold. Any ideas would be gratefully received – but please remember I am a wild panfur huntress who loves the outside world!

Farewell #bestie

Last Picture of Teddy Bear taken on December 16, 2012

Last Picture of Teddy Bear taken on December 16, 2012

This is the hardest post I have ever had to write. A few simple words and my world came tumbling down around me:

Now I have some sad news. TeddyBear, my baby, went OTRB this (1-3-13) at 10:30 am. He got out last night. We didn’t find him all night. I was in and out looking for him. I saw him this morning coming up the path but he didn’t look right so took him to the vet. He had extensive injuries and the Vet said it looked like he could have been hit by a car … treatment of his injuries may be too much for Teddy to endure and, then said, it probably wouldn’t do him any good. So I made the painful decision to ease his suffering and let him go. Yours sincerely TeddyBear’s Mom

My heartfelt condolences to Teddy’s Mom and his human Sissy, please know I’m just a DM or email away … can you feel the warmth of our hugs?

My heart is broken and huMum is not much better. I’m wiping her eyes while I dictate to her as she can’t see the screen.

So instead of continuing to portray our grief I’m going to remember the wonderful times I’ve had with my #bestie, @toughteddybear a true gentleman of Twitter. Teddy would want us to celebrate his life not mourn it.

I met him just 28 months ago when he was still a kitten in my eyes but he had the wisdom of a 100 year old elephant. Think he was number 38 on my list of followers! Through him I met his girlfuriend, @LilyLuWhoT and they got me involved in the lives of so many twitter anipals.


Teddy proposing to Lily --- awwwe

Teddy proposing to Lily — awwwe

Hey #bestie I know you are reading this – do you remember when you bashfully *whispered* to me that you wanted to ask Lily to be your wife? Oh we had so much fun preparing your proposal but I had to sit biting my nails in background! Think I let out the loudest full-blooded YEOWL when she said yes.


Just one of Teddy's gifts to Lily to celebrate the 12 days of Christmas, 2011

Just one of Teddy’s gifts to Lily to celebrate the 12 days of Christmas, 2011

Then came your monster task of preparing a gift every day of the 12 days of Christmas and, again, I was like a voyeur seeing Lily’s delight when each day you gave her a new present.

With you and Lily safely engaged our anipal furiends began to accept that you and I were just #besties. They understood that a girl and boy cat could have a platonic relationship. Lily became my close girl furiend and she understood that when she was asleep and you had the zoomies (around your 2:00 am) we’d often meet and chase each other around twitter and our homes and gardens. Oh the delicious food we nommed in each other’s kitchens … hehehe remember the cream fight?


Teddy's 1st Birthday

Teddy’s 1st Birthday

On March 10, 2011 Lily organized your 1st Birthday in Pawty in Puerto Rico and you were crowned King for a day.


No more air guitar for Teddy!

No more air guitar for Teddy!

And you received a guitar as a present!




Time marched on but each time we met it was just pure joy. Remember your happiness when you realised you were #SuperTeddy?


The Bridal Party

The Bridal Party

Toast to the Bride and Groom

Toast to the Bride and Groom

Finally in the beginning of October, 2012 I was so very proud to stand beside you as your #BestCat when you eloped with Lily during the Love Boat’s visit to Bermuda.


These are just a few memories of my time with TeddyBear … I’m inviting you to use the comments page of this blog to remind Teddy, his Mom, his human Sissy and beautiful wife, Lily, of your special time with this wonderful furiend of ours.

Dedicated to TeddyBear’s Mom and his human Sissy:

When I am gone, release me. Let me go
I have so many things to see and do.
You mustn’t tie yourself to me with tears.
Be happy that we had so many beautiful years.
I gave to you my love. You can only guess
How much you gave to me in happiness.
I thank you for the love you each have shown,
But now it’s time I travelled on alone.
So grieve a while for me, if grieve you must.
Then let your grief be comforted by trust.
It’s only for a while that we must part,
So bless the memories within your heart.
I won’t be far away, for life goes on.
So if you need me, call and I will come.
Though you can’t see or touch me, I’ll be near.
And if you listen with your heart,
You’ll hear all my love around you soft and clear.
And then, when you must come this way alone,
I’ll greet you with a smile and say welcome home…
By Anonymous

I killed the Vacuum!

It is DEAD!

It is DEAD!


I did, I did!  To be honest I didn’t actually kill it but I was indirectly responsible for its temporary death!

Think I’ve told you that it is mouse season in Melbourne.  Every late Spring, early Summer they seem to appear from nowhere.  If you are not aware, then I’m here to tell you, that mice breed like “rabbits”.  I think they practice all winter long and when the jacaranda blossom appears so do the baby mice.   Being a very noble panfur I let them grow until they are at least 5cm long (not including their tails) before I go on safari.

So huMum has been getting a lot of exercise this week as I have produced a mouse a night (except Tuesday).  As she is only too familiar with the peculiar miaow I make when my mouth is full, the chase is on before I have a chance to proudly display my catch.  To my chagrin I was twice tricked into giving up my live squeaking prey; the third I got bored with and left him in kitchen (see HERE) to be buried by huMum in the green wheelie bin.

So what happed to the fourth mouse?  I let huMum chase me up and down the hallway, in and out the study, bedroom, bathroom and even in and out of the “little girl’s room” (whatever that means).  For goodness sake I wish humans would call a spade a shovel and their litter tray a toilet or if they are Australian a “dunny” or the “boghole”!  I digress.  Where were we?  Ah that’s right in the middle of the chase.  After at least 10 hours oops minutes, I made the mistake of ducking out my cat door and huMum shut the door from the laundry to passage and *wail* I couldn’t get back into the house.

She turned on the garden lights to watch what I got up to with my “mouthful” of mouse but was distracted by the telephone.  The next time she checked I was sitting with *innocent ears* at the patio doors paw pointing at my empty mouth (just like my all-time hero “Simon’s Cat”) and miaowing to be let in.  Chuckling to myself here as I know I’m annoying the dickens out of you with all this waffling on and never, seemingly, to get to the point of my story.  That is why its called a yarn or is that yawn?

The next day Sandy, our delightful cleaning lady, was busily vacuuming and got to the laundry when, from my the top of the garage roof, I heard a huge THWACK and the stereo (on which Pink had been playing) went off as did the vacuum.  As Sandy and huMum were muttering a lot I had to come down from my perch to check out what was going on.

Yes *paw punches the air* the vacuum was lying in pieces in the middle of the hall and huMum was telling Sandy “something must have blown it up?”.

I don’t think huMum was very pleased as she had to reset the house power trip-switch and reboot the computer, then carry the dead vacuum to her car.  I waved her goodbye from the living room window as she drove out, presumably to the vacuum graveyard

She reappeared about two hours later and I was ever so pleased as it was nearly dinner time.  One look at her face told me that I was in deep doo doo yet again and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why.  Worse still the dreaded vacuum was back!  There is nothing more dire than huMum in a bad mood so I tried to appease her with much rubbing of her legs, gentle mews and loud purrs but instead of a pat and a scritch I got sent to the naughty chair!  Once ensconced she told me that the vacuum repair man charged her $55 to repair the blown fuse and showed her the cause.  Yes!  You guessed it, my fourth mouse!

Unbeknownst to huMum, while she was gossiping on the phone the previous night I’d bought the fourth mouse back through my cat door into the laundry but as the door to the passage was so rudely closed I had dropped him and, being a very smart mouse, he’d had taken up residence under the washing machine.  Sandy being a very thorough housekeeper had directed the vacuum right to his new home and swooped him up!  TWACK!

To all you vacuum fearing cats out there, you now know there is a way to slay them but be prepared for the consequences.  HuMum did not get over her sooky mood for at least two hours!

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Stairway to Adventures

My stairway to adventures!

My stairway to adventures!

Stairway to Adventures!

*whispers* we wrote this story months ago but it went missing … *scratching ears* #PhantomStoryThief

Do you remember I wrote about huMum telling me on our first day together that my Uncle would build steps to help me climb our 9 foot fence? It took him ages to get it done as he always had other chores to do for huMum and I had proved to them that I was very capable of scaling the fence without their help.

About 10 days after arriving at my forever home, I gave huMum a big heartache when I went out to explore my new neighbourhood. I left at 7:00 am, just after breakfast, and didn’t return until 8:00 pm! Please don’t tell huMum that I have admitted to being just a tad lost. I could hear her calling me but I kept being distracted by all the birds, finding possum nests, watching the kids play Aussie rules football in the park and, best of all, climbing a tree and teasing the dog in a garden about half a kilometre away, plus locating some really great places for cat naps. Eventually, as I was so hungry, I had to go home and, I must admit, it was a great relief to see our roof from my perch in yet another tree. Talk about a fuss when I pushed through my cat-flap and miaowed “I’m home!” HuMum didn’t know whether to cry and cuddle or be stern and lecture. It ended up being a mixture. It also was my first time on the naughty chair, but that is another story.

I did learn a big lesson, huMum was happy for me to explore but if I heard her call “Jessie” then I knew it was time to go home. We made a pact that I’d never worry her like that again!

I also learned that she was not too impressed with me sitting on the roof of our neighbour’s house and this confused me as she was happy for me to sit on our roof. So what if their roof is double the height of our roof, right? Wrong, I could see huMum looking out the kitchen window, then rushing to the patio doors screaming out my name with her hand over her mouth and terror in her eyes. Oh dear, I was in deep doo doo! It only took me about two minutes to get home but I think I was responsible for her looking so very pale. Another hour on the naughty chair and another lesson learned. I still regularly visit that tall roof but I make sure huMum is safely tucked up, snug as a bug, in bed.

Stair Construction

In the summer of early 2006, huMum and Uncle disappeared in her car so, as is my practice, I patiently waited at the front window for their return. Finally they got home and there was so much new gear in the hatch for me to investigate. A 2×10 plank of wood, hammer, nails, drill, saw, brackets, tape measure – the garage and courtyard were full of all this mannish equipment!

They measured the long plank of pine-smelling wood and, using the saw, cut it into 4 bits. I heard huMum nagging my Uncle, “Make sure they are big enough for her to sit on!” I felt a bit sorry for him because she was getting in his way and he was muttering under his breath. Eventually he told her to go and make them a ‘cuppa’. Now it was my turn to help him so I organised all his zinc nails in a row and then pushed them over to him as they were needed. (Not really, but it does make the story more entertaining.) Truth be told, I spent most of my time up on the roof looking down because the loud hammering and sawing noises were scary.

You will have to use your imagination – we have the ugly side of the fence facing our courtyard, i.e. the side with the horizontal beams. Although huMum has made it look beautiful with jasmine, azaleas and camellias, it meant the fence was perfect for the assembly of my stairs as it gave Uncle a place to attach each step. He not only nailed the steps to the horizontal fence beams but, to brace them, he put three brackets under each step so I could land heavily without fear that they would fall off. His tour de force was the top step which is bigger than the others and allows me to sun bake and peep through the jasmine covered lattice. It is my favourite outdoor niche as it smells wonderful in summer; I get to spy on the neighbours and hide from huMum all at the same time.

“No! Why should I get off the roof onto those steps?” I miaowed when huMum tried to get me to test the stairs. “I’m happy up here, thank you very much. Oh is that cheese I smell.” I try to reach down from the top of the lattice where I’m precariously balancing but huMum has put it just out of my reach so I jump down onto the top step. “Wow this is so very excellent!” They make me go up and down my stairs three times just to prove the steps will carry my weight! How exciting, no more climbing the tall fence. I have the best Uncle and huMum a cat could have, so I gave them lots of nudges and leg rubs to show my gratitude.

For your information I can now, at full speed, make it from the kitchen, via dining room, the passage and the cat-flap in the laundry, to the roof in 5 seconds!”

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Two for Two

A Purrfect Mouthful + a bit to Share

A Purrfect Mouthful + a bit to Share

Success is MINE!  Summer is only two days old and I have managed to catch and slay a mouse a night (plus one last week when it was still Spring), two geckos and a worthless moth.  I truly am the great panfur huntress.

To remind you of my exploits I redirect you back to an earlier blog Mice/Rats Beware! which I hope gives you a giggle and explains my life in suburban Melbourne a little.

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

*Big Sighs*

Hiding from the world between the cushions on MY sofa!

I understand that we all have to go OTRB at some stage but just wish it didn’t hurt our hearts so much when others precede us.

This week has been very stressful as the battle to save Lennox in Ireland was sadly lost and then, just a few hours later, we learned that our dear furiend, @DevonScootle, said goodbye to her sibling’s @TourettesTabby2 and @DOOMandNemisis and their Staff and went to join her sisfur @MilliesSpektre OTRB.

Like many anipals on Twitter we just sat looking at our monitors with leaky eyes and dribbly noses.  The heartache wasn’t really ours but we shared it with Scoots’ family and, in doing so, we hope it helped fill the void she has left in their lives.  We are very happy to learn that Mona, @Kernow_Kitteh, has just joined the Colony and think she will give Mimsey, Doom and Nemesis a run for their money. Also, we hope she is wise to sleight-of-paws which might be visited on her by Millie and Scoots!

However at times like these, huMum worries as she knows that my time with her may be short.  I know I’m only 10 but I’ve used up so many of my lives fighting breast cancer and now the dreaded arthritis.  I still try to act all kittenish and pretend to be interested in the zoomy red dot from the new laser-pen sent to us by @ickle_tikkypoo‘s Dad, but I’m spending more and more of my time just curled up in a ball on the sofa.

*Big sighs* … squishing around and turning back on room now as it is …

Naptime, bye-bye for now!

For those who are interested in my treatment and that suggested by @mariodacat please read Comments below … also here is the link for information about Pentosan 100 which we highly recommend

Banjo Baby Baboon

Getting aquainted

Way back in March 2012 I met @Kolo_Martin (for Kolo’s webpage – see the link on my BlogRoll) and learned of his bid to re-house as many Baboons as he can via special competitions.

Being a curious cat I Googled “Baboon” and found that they are primate with many of the characteristics of a cat e.g. curious, cheeky, climb trees, enjoy naps etc. So huMum contacted Kolo by DM and asked if we could provide a forever home for a Baboon. Much to our delight Kolo advised that a wee baby Baboon had been dispatched to Australia.

Everyday, excitedly, I checked our mailbox and last week he finally arrived!

Banjo Arrives at Number 31

Those pesky parcels that people from UK use are so difficult for a cat to open so I had to asked huMum for her assistance. “OMC he is so cute” I cried when I first spied Baby Banjo Baboon. Yes we have named him Banjo after the Australian poet Andrew Barton “Banjo” Paterson who is famous for such delights as Waltzing Matilda, The Man from Snowy River and Clancy of the Overflow.

I was a little over-friendly with Banjo on his first night in our home so he has taken up residence on our fridge but every day I greet him with “Morning Banjo” and in return he says “Ah! Ah! Ah!” and asks for another banana.

Thank you Kolo for giving us the chance to adopt Banjo – today we sent my weekly pocket-money to the CARE Baboon Sanctuary in South Africa.

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Banjo’s home (until I stop the rough play)

Transfer of my Blog to WordPress

#ourWinnie taking Nanny Jessie for a ride on her horsey

Over the past week I’ve been gradually transferring my personal blog to WordPress. Unfortunately, the two Australian #NipClub tours to help save the endangered Bilby held earlier in 2012 could not be included (graphic overload!) but they still can be viewed (see the link in the BlogRoll on the right of this page).

Please let me know if you wish me to add your link to my BlogRoll and, in turn, I’d be delighted if you added my link to your Blog.

Also if you are looking for links important to twitter anipals just click here HERE.

I don’t promise to update this blog on a regular basis but I may be more inclined to share the daily joys of living with huMum in my forever home. It also will encourage her to get the dreaded camera out and snap pictures of me compromising poses.

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

The Gianormous Tom!

Big, scruffy and a WIMP!

One night last week, just as I’d settled for a wee nap with huMum, I heard a noise.  Head up, ears pricked, the hackles on the back of my neck already raised and my tail all floofed to triple its normal skinny size.  Somebody was in my courtyard garden!  In a tummy crouch I crawled into the living room so that my profile wouldn’t be seen through the big glass doors.  OMC he was huge; at least 21lbs of him! Ginger too and, I guess, a feral as his coat was all matted.  I zoomed at a million miles an hour back up the passage into the laundry and out my door.  I must have scared the sh*t out him as he took off into garage with me in hot pursuit.  We sped through the gap in the big door to the driveway. Then came the stand-off and the circling to see who had the biggest yowl.

Lights went on in huMum’s room and I imagined her running through the house as, in quick succession, the passage light then the living room light flashed on.  This made me brave so I pounced.  Yowls, howls and screams ensued!  “The tom” just shook me off like he would a pesky gnat; did I tell you he was gianormous?  All four legs akimbo I managed a strike to his nose as I sailed through the air.  Score ONE for Jessie! Dazed from my flight, I looked around.  He’d vanished! The front door opened and huMum arrived in her daggy fluoro-green flannelette pj’s and bed head (a sight that only should be viewed through sunglasses) and, to my chagrin, scooped me up into her protective arms.  I gave her the stiff paw treatment as I wanted to find “the tom” but she scurried back inside making unnecessary soothing noises.

Three hours later as dawn made its sleepy arrival I cautiously, tail down and pawtoeing, crept out to check the venue of the “great fight”.   Proudly I spotted speckles of blood on the path.  Eureka!!  I didn’t dream that my mighty claws had struck gold the previous night.  So I happily trotted back inside with tail held high like a flagpole to wake huMum with my good news.  Miaow, miaow MIAOOOOOOW hmm no reaction from the lump under the duvet.  I hopped up on our bed and tapped the nose sticking out and received a mumbled snort.  Tapped again and jumped quickly to other side of her head to evade tha hand which shot out to hit the place I’d previously been sitting.  Phase three of the daily “wake the huMum routine” was for me to take up the ‘staring position’ on her chest (which is perfectly flat as her boobs fall under her armpits when she’s on her back) and then purr directly in her face.  Result! I knew she’d only resist that for 5 minutes!

On our walk to the kitchen I told her all about the blood spots on the path and as she groggily slurped her first cup of coffee and I munched my Hills Prescription TD biscuits we pondered what to do if “the tom” returned.  I scratched my head in disappointment when huMum rejected my idea of burying a few land mines.  She reminded me that the neighbour’s brats often invade our space and she didn’t want to end up in jail for juvenile murder even though she agreed with me that their high-pitched screeches when riding their scooters up and down the driveway were worse than nails on a blackboard.

With no resolution to the problem we took up residence on the sofa and turned the TV on to watch the morning news.  Bored, I snuggle into huMum’s side and fell asleep dreaming of the featherweight championship belt being proudly draped over my back as I pranced around a boxing ring.

Day Two

At around 10:00pm the following night, I’d just hopped over the neighbour’s fence on my return journey to our garden when I sniffed the air?  He was back!  From deep within my chest I emitted a rumbling noise which, even to me, was frightening.  I had no idea I could make such a sound and created a diary note to myself to ponder it later.  I saw golden eyes flashing 5 yards away.  My rumble became a hiss and then a high-pitched yowl as fearlessly I moved towards “the tom”.  Huh?  Where did he go?  I was sure he’d been right in front of me just a second previously.  Shocked realisation dawned on me, “the tom” was a wimp and I’d scared him off. Strutting proudly inside I let huMum know just how lucky she was to have me to protect her and claimed my reward in scritches and supper.

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Painting The House

Cream walls with a scattering of black fur is very “IN” at our house

I wasn’t aware my huMum had a mild disability when we met as she was able to do all the basic stuff like feed and brush me. It doesn’t worry me that when she is tired, she uses a walker or a stick because I get to ride on the walker’s seat and the stick provides me with hours of pleasure trying to move it from one room to another. Laborious chores like cleaning bathrooms, vacuuming and mopping floors are just beyond huMum and she has a lovely lady called Vidanka visit once a week to help.

Vidanka was my friend from our first meeting, it was a mutual admiration society – she loved rubbing my tummy and I loved the treats she, unbeknownst to huMum, hid in her pocket for me! Over the years Vidanka and her family, huMum and I all became really close friends. Our house was only 7 years old but it really needed painting so Sam, Vidanka’s husband and a professional painter, agreed on a price with huMum and the work started the following week.

I wasn’t too sure that all these ladders, drapes over the furniture and floor were really such a good idea. OMC the smell of the paint was hideous, it permeated every hiding place I had in the house so I spent a lot of time on my fence steps. Each afternoon, as soon as Sam left, I’d be coaxed back into the house to play with huMum, have our dinner and watch TV or spend time on the computer. Nobody told me that the lovely cream paint on the wall was still wet. Oh dear I was in deep doo doo! My beautiful black coat was covered in cream paint and the walls were covered in my fur. You guessed it! At the time, I was in the middle of my shedding season!

Every day Sam arrived at 7:30am to fix another catastrophe! Sometimes it was blue paint, sometimes it was sage and always the walls were covered in my black fur. Sam and huMum took turns in fixing the walls and washing the paint off my coat. At no time did Sam ask huMum to banish me from the house. You see I had this gentle Yugoslavian wrapped around my wee paw! He was always anxious that I did not try to wash the paint off myself. I did enjoy the attention but I did not enjoy being washed!

Finally the house was completely painted with clean curtains and carpet! It looked so fresh and sparkling. The only real complaint I had was that huMum sent my mohair blankie to the dry cleaners. A pongy, smelly but very fluffy blankie was returned to me! It took me four weeks of hard work kneading and covering it with my scent to get it back to purrfection!

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

A Day in the Life of Jessie!

in the middle of MY bed!

So you want to know what a normal day is like for me in Melbourne, Australia, do you?

I will start at 7:00am because that is usually when huMum stirs herself and makes breakfast. Cereal and milk for her and, as I’m on a special diet to increase my weight, I have an 85gm tin of Dine Desire tuna fillets & whole prawns in a seafood sauce! By the time huMum has watched the news, eaten her breakfast and drunk her pineapple juice I start miaowing for more food! It always works, but my bowl is only filled with a stingy ten Hill’s Prescription Diet Feline t/d treats. Ha you guessed it, Hills is way expensive and my huMum has Scottish blood running through her veins. Their t/d is good for my teeth and, judging from what the lady in the White Coat says, for a nine-year old my teeth are in remarkable condition. She hasn’t had to scrape them since huMum started giving me t/d four years ago. I’m not sure if it is available overseas but I would highly recommend it – good for you and scrumptious too!

By 8:00am you will find me in the middle of MY bed on MY blankie. If the day is sunny I will rise at noon, exit the house via my cat flap and take up residence in our courtyard garden under the lemon tree where its green leaves shield me from the ferocious summer sun. I have constructed an amazing hole in the dirt near the base of the trunk and filled it with dead leaves so it is both cool and comfie. Summertime in Australia can be wicked with temperatures to a maximum of 42C (108F) in the shade. On days like that I do tend to remain inside napping on the back of the sofa while the air-conditioner blasts me with cool air.

Afternoons are usually spent keeping huMum company when she is on the computer. I sit on the back of her chair and, over her shoulder, I watch every keystroke especially if she is using MY twitter account. I cannot allow her to give away my secrets or tell too many rude jokes. We have made so many wonderful friends including a baby pygmy hippo, a baby elephant, a tortoise, a wallaby plus numerous cats and dogs. @toughteddybear is my #bestie furiend on Twitter and we get up to so much mischief! Teddy’s beautiful fiance is @LilyLuWhoT and he is devoted to her. My dear furiends @PuppyNumber7 and @Keely_Bobs allow me, @TigerBoyTheCat and @PinballBob to live in their summer-house but heaven forbid if they call us their “pets”! I am Nanny to Thomas and Keely’s wee puppy #ourWinnie, also *whispers* I have a big crush on @kingtuttifruiti *ear blushes* – he is such a gentleman and so handsome. Even with all these furiends I sometimes feel lonely being in Australia when so many of them live in the USA, UK, Europe and South Africa. Then again, you would have to drag me caterwauling with all claws firmly planted in the carpet to get me to leave my forever home. If huMum is doing accounts or her graphics work I’ll retire to the top of MY printer and curl in a ball for another nap.

On the days huMum goes shopping in her little silver Honda Jazz she has to be careful I haven’t concealed myself behind the driver’s seat. Often I have shocked the pants off her when I’ve jumped up to sun bake and pose under the rear window! I love it when the people in passing cars point and wave to me – I’m a Princess Panther!

Dinner is served at 6:00pm, although I do start to complain at 5:00pm and often mention to huMum that she is starving me! This time I have an 85gm tin of Fancy Feast Royale tuna banquet with whole prawns! Over the years we have tried everything from fresh meat to fish heads but I’ve determined that these two brands are my favourites and I’m not keen on change. Please don’t get me wrong, I do like the food I regularly steal from huMum’s plate when she is not being vigilant. There are special treats I adore like ham, bacon, chicken and my most favourite Babybel cheese! HuMum swears that I can hear her opening a Babybel from our neighbour’s garden! Within seconds I am wrapping my body around her legs before she even has a chance to remove the cellophane from the red wax casing!

After dinner and vigorously performing my ablutions it is time for another nap, usually back on MY bed and on MY blankie! I must admit I have to expend a lot of energy washing my head and chest. HuMum constantly teases me saying, “Jessie you are the messiest eater I have ever met.” Maybe I need a bib? No that would be so embarrassing!

I rise at 8:00pm just as the sun is setting, do my stretching exercises and a two or three one-hundred yard sprints through the house, check that my bowl really is empty, test miaow on the off-chance that supper might be served early; then I’m out the door.

My stairs to the roof provide me with the ideal vantage point to check out the neighbourhood. I steer well clear of screaming children, dogs and motor vehicles. I can travel over two houses in any one of three directions without putting paw ground. Along the way I greet my hoodies, check the neighbour’s mulch bin for signs of mice and ensure that there are no strange cats in my territory. The one thing that will always attract me back to ground level is the song of the cicadas. I can sit beside a cicada hole in the garden for hours completely mesmerised by their carolling. I have never seen one even though on a few occasions I have tried to assist them to escape their homes. Another insect that has me bemused is the huge bogong moths that hang around outdoor lighting. Now these guys are prehistoric in both size and appearance and are as dumb as a doornail. A cat just has to sit with mouth open under a light and eventually they will provide you with a meal. Being a well fed cat that love’s her huMum very much I just take them home as a gift. At times I find her reactions to my gifts very insulting. She either screams and locks me outside or grabs my beautiful present out of my mouth and scurries outside to free it! If I’ve squeezed my prize too hard it is buried in the rubbish bin!

After my first neighbourhood patrol I return home for supper, which normally is a Babybel followed by more t/d to clean my teeth. If I’m in a generous mood I will cuddle up to huMum and watch TV but only if it is sport or a good British police or spy series. I’m not a lap cat but I do like wrapping my front paws over huMum’s shoulder and pressing my body flat against her chest. By 11:00pm you will find us curled up in bed. I day-dream while she reads with my favourite position being back to back as I fit into the curve of her spine perfectly!

The next patrol usually occurs when huMum’s snoring wakes me and I need to get some peace and quiet. Again I revisit the mulch bin and sit for an hour or so waiting for a mouse to poke its nose out. Patience like mine is often rewarded but of late, with all our rain, if fear they have drowned?

Bored, I slink back home at 5:00 am to play with my toys. HuMum tends to throw them around the house. So I have to collect them all together and then take each one to MY bed which I allow huMum to share at night. This takes a few minutes as each toy is special to me and requires attention, usually a bite or a double whammy back kick. I have an ulterior motive for all this activity. Yes, you guessed it; I am hoping huMum will wake early. If unsuccessful I give into my need for another nap. Next thing I know it is 7:00am and a new day has arrived. How exciting, more places to explore and adventures to experience!

HuMum’s fingers are tired from all this typing so I’ll finish by saying:

Nap time, bye-bye for now!


Fluffy on Left and Ratty II on Right minus an ear and tail!

Ratty arrived all the way from Edinburgh, Scotland. He came in a brown padded parcel about 10 days before Christmas, 2009. I know he was in the parcel because I could smell him as he was stuffed with “the nip”! HuMum explained it was my very own special present sent by my darling Tikka (@ickle_tikkypoo) who I had met when I arrived at my forever home and was allowed to talk with her on-line when huMum was sleeping or shopping. We quickly fell in love and declared to the world our catbianism and we hope that, very soon, our elected Purrime Ministerettes, @ShivaandJaya, will have the Australian Purrliament agree to same-sex marriages. I’m not sure that Tikka’s dad (@Nav_Nikerless) is all that keen to learn his darling tortoiseshell Tikka is a catbian but he knows how much we love each other!

Back to my parcel containing Ratty; well it sat on the desk as huMum said it was a surprise for me and not to be opened until Christmas morning in Scotland. Humph! Not only did I have to wait 10 days, but then I had to wait 11 more hours. I threw up my paws in frustration and huffed out of the office to go hunting with my hoodies. When the house was dark and I could hear huMum snoring I snuck back into the office to open my present! I chewed it, clawed it, pounded it with my back feet but, for the life of me, I could not find a way into it. Tikka had got her dad to seal it with staples and yucky tasting tape. I gave up at about 7:00am and joined huMum, on our bed, for a nap. A blink of eye later I was awoken by this loud scream, “Jessie what have you been up to?” “Who me, nothing, nothing at all, I’ve been sleeping here all night till you rudely woke me!” I replied with my wide-eyed innocent look. No breakfast treats for me that morning and yet another hour on the naughty chair! The next time I was allowed in the office the parcel was missing and, although I searched the house from top to bottom, I could not find it.

Christmas day was fun even if huMum left me alone for about six hours when she went out to feed her face at a party. She had bought me lots of new toys to play with so, between naps, I shredded the wrapping paper all over the living room floor and then I gradually moved my presents up to our bed so I could snuggle them.

HuMum got home just in time to feed me the contents of the “cattybag” she’d brought for me. Real prawns and thick ham cut off the bone! I ate, burped, and ate some more. I was so disgustingly full of food I wondered if my tummy would ever return to its original shape. In the meantime, huMum had turned on computer and was chatting with Nav, she called me in so I could have a few minutes with my darling Tikka but we were disturbed by the arrival of my gift. It just magically appeared! I typed to let Tikka know that her parcel had been found and huMum was opening it for me. Oh the excitement and the joy of finally meeting Ratty. He was about 6 inches long, furry, beady eyes and nose made of cotton, plus leather ears and a satin tail. Best of all he was stuffed full of “the nip”. I was speechless, abruptly said goodbye to Tikka, jumped off the desk with Ratty in my mouth and went off to bed to explore him in-depth. It only took me thirty seconds to be as “high as a kite” and seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses, or was that the sunset?

I don’t know if it was “the nip” or the fact that ratty was the perfect size to fight with, but it took me three days to get rid of his ears and tail. He was defenceless against my continued onslaught. Every night, if I didn’t catch a real mouse, I would take my temper out on Ratty. Within two weeks I had degutted him! I can’t count the number of times this year that huMum has patiently sewn Ratty back together but, just last week, we had to finally admit he was beyond repair and he was buried in the garbage bin.

I mourned him and yowled every night until huMum arrived home with Fluffy. Now this is one very big solidly constructed mouse! Three days with her and I have just managed to shred a few tiny cotton threads from her towelling rope tail. To be perfectly honest she’s not nearly as much fun as Ratty, thus my letter to Santa has included a request for another Ratty (plus ping-pong balls and a laser pointer) and we are going to mail it tomorrow. HuMum has told me that I will only get my wishes granted if I’m very good so tonight I bought her the first mouse of the summer season and when that disappeared into the rubbish bin I replaced it with a moth!

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

The Case of the Disappearing Decorations!

Merry Christmas!

Back in mid-November 2005, I had no idea what Christmas was all about, so huMum sat me down one night and told me a little bit about Jesus, but I don’t think she believed the stories regarding the miracles. She said that Christmas was his birthday and it was celebrated by some humans as a way of honouring him. This confused me as instead of giving presents to Jesus, humans gave presents to each other. Then she told me that even anipals received presents and that Jesus had died 100s of years ago! Sigh, maybe one day I will figure it out but can someone explain who Santa Claus is if Christmas is supposed to be about a birthday party for Jesus?

Days later our lounge room was filled with bags and bags of ribbon, beads, baubles, bells and everything was white or silver. HuMum begged me to stay away while she began to make bows and double bows, some with just a little bit of red and all tied with tiny silver bells. Must admit these bows were a work of art and maybe this year when we put up our tree I will convince her to take a picture of it for you. I spent most of this industrious week sitting on the back of my favourite sofa intrigued with how her dancing fingers could create such wonderful decorations. They looked like the best toys a cat could have and I so desperately wanted to play with them. When she finished, each night, she packed everything up into boxes that, no matter how hard I tried, I could not find their entrance. She laughed at me in the morning when she found that I still had not managed to open one box and told me they were cat proof!

Bad move huMum haven’t you learned never challenge your Jessie! I will discover a way to make all these baubles, beads, bells, ribbons and bows mine!

At last it was December 13 and huMum struggled into the house with a big box. Out of this she constructed the most incredible tree. It had a silver stand and branches but all the needles were black! In all my Google searches I had never seen a black pine tree, except dead ones! Was my huMum a crazy witch? Should I be scared? Is this why she chose me, a panther cat?

HuMum told me to be patient and, if I was very good, she would let me help her turn the lights on. I returned to the back of my sofa to watch her fashion a masterpiece. First of all she started with metres of fairy lights and then every bow, bauble and bell, plus the strings of pearl beads were carefully placed on and around the tree. I was fast asleep by the time she had finished but, when she nudged me awake, it really was a magnificent sight to behold. HuMum called me over and put my paw on the light switch and, voila, the tree came alive. We both sat on the floor in front of it, eating our supper snacks. I was just awestruck and huMum let me wander around the tree but every time I went to touch a bell, bow, bead, or bauble she used the most dreaded word in the human vocabulary “no”!

If I wasn’t allowed to touch then I was off to play with my hoodies and huMum could go clean her teeth, put that night gunk on her face and go to bed. I’d see her later when I’d done my Neighbourhood Watch.

Three of my hoodies asked why I was so late, so I explained about our Christmas tree. They didn’t believe me so we crept up to our front window and their ohs and ahs, when they spied it twinkling through the front window, where music to my ears.

Dismantling of the Tree

I arrived home at about 4:00am just when the birds were starting to wake, checked that my bowl was really empty and then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied the sparkling tree. HuMum had placed the tree between our front window and the big sofa. An incredible flash of inspiration overtook me! The lower limbs of the tree were hidden by the sofa and were not easily visible to biped humans!

I’d have to work fast as huMum usually stumbled out of bed at 7:00am and I didn’t want to get caught with the evidence in my possession. Quietly I started to pick off bows, baubles, bells and one section of pearl beads. The quandary was what to do with them? The baubles and bows were definitely too large to swish with my tail under the sofa. Oh dear, had I bitten off more than I could chew, was this challenge too big for me to accomplish? Another flash of inspiration! HuMum had accidentally left the garage door open and in the garage was my old litter tray which I didn’t use any more. Bingo! I could hide my trophies in the litter tray and cover it with one of the leaf trash bags stored near it!

Looking at the clock I had half an hour before huMum stirred. I grabbed a bauble, a bow and wrapped the beads around my tummy by rolling myself over and over them. Quietly I squeezed out my cat-flap and deposited the first load in the litter tray. It took me five speedy trips but, finally, hiding the proof of my de-fleecing the tree of its bottom layer of decorations was accomplished and I had five minutes to settle my breathing and calm my pounding heart.

To be honest, three days later when my theft of the decorations was discovered, I had completely forgotten about being so mischievous. So it was very easy for me to innocently wash my face as huMum ranted and raved about what a ghastly girl I was and how she would never forgive me for vandalising her tree! I was woman-handled and firmly placed on my naughty chair and told not to move until she’d found her decorations! Fine! I turned my back and curled in ball to nap. I felt no guilt whatsoever!

Eventually, after looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture in the house, even pulling out drawers, huMum moved to the garage and there she found my stash. Half an hour later, out of one eye, I saw that the tree was restored to its previous beauty so I gave a small and pitiful miaow. I could tell huMum was trying hard not to laugh and I knew I was definitely forgiven when she picked me up and let me lie half over her shoulder in my favourite position while she scratched my tummy.

I must admit, after that exercise, we did have daily tiffs about the odd one or two baubles I managed to swipe off the tree to play with during the night. Every morning she’d patiently restore them to their rightful place, tying them on tighter!. By the time Christmas day arrived I was bored with our tree and did not miss it when it was put away. Each year since then we have had our clashes over the ornaments but it has become part of our Christmas tradition!

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Brian The Brush Tail Possum

This guy must be Brian’s first cousin as they could be twins

I first met Brian in November, 2003 when I was on my nightly patrols. Summer was nearly with us and accordingly the spring mice population was expanding by the hour in the park behind our home. Put it this way, I no longer had to attend twitter #keepfits as I was running about a kilometre a night to and from the park with presents for huMum. The easiest and fastest route was cat flap – fence – top of roof – fence – top of roof – fence, followed by a purrfect soft four pawpoint landing in the park. Being dumb, field mice have none of the offensive manoeuvres of house mice and *whispers* none of the germs. I pounced on family after family of field mice every night but please do not pity these little cuties as, if uncontrolled, they would take over a very family orientated park where children come to play and mums and dads with babies come to find peace. Imagine sharing your picnic with a mass of field mice. So I and my fellow “hoodies” are making the park safe for you. Puffs out chest!

One night I was making my way home along the last fence with a very annoyed, fidgety and squeaky mouse in my mouth and struggling through the Camellia tree, when I heard a noise like nothing I had ever heard. It was a guttural growl and it sent shivers down my spine. I’ve nothing to be frightened of, I shakily told myself. It’s a dark night and being a famous experienced panther hunter then it’s logical that not a soul can see me. Finally, once through the Camellia I was confronted by “Brian the Brush Tail Possum” and boy was he big and very bad-tempered. In shock I dropped the mouse and took 5 steps back into the shelter of the tree, in the hope I could hide myself. I swear to you this guy was at least 5kgs heavier than me, was smelly and those huussskkkks, screeches and guttural growls will give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

Eventually he decided to jump down into my neighbour’s garden so I was free to zoom at a zillion miles per hour back home and cuddle up, still shaking, with huMum for the rest of the night, demanding she wrap me in her arms under the blankies.

HuMum had heard our noisy meeting on the fence, so the next day we spent a few hours on the web learning about them. We have found that their diet is mainly plant-based i.e. leaves, fresh gum tips and flowers, however they also occasionally eat insects, eggs and meat. An open compost bin in a backyard becomes an enticing smorgasbord for a hungry urban possum. Problem solved, he was only after the neighbour’s compost bin and their fruit trees which includes plums, apple and pears.

Over the years I’ve met with Brian on a number of occasions but now his growls no longer freak me out (too much). We say hello but I can’t say that we are friends as he is a vegetarian and I’m a carnivore.

I have a feeling he might be good at cards so with the approval of my “hoodies” I might invite him to one of our Friday night Poker Games. I guess I will have to provide him with a few mice for his kitty as the “hoodies” would laugh at him if he tried to bet with apples.

Last summer we found Brian’s home when sadly a tree damaged in a storm had to be cut back. The very kind tree doctors moved his house to the tree next door. It took him a while to get used to his hew home but I’ve noticed that he built a little roof over it to protect him from all the rain we have been receiving in recent years.

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Mice/Rats Beware!

Mouse/Rat Champion

Summer is on its way but, as it’s chilly at night, I’m still sleeping snuggled up to my huMum’s tummy wearing my ear-plugs because of the atomic bomb snores that emit from her nose. She says I snore but we all know that they are just nose-purrs!

During our hot summer months, part of my Neighbourhood Watch routine includes, not just playing with my “hoodies”, but I have to ensure all the children are tucked up safely in bed, plus every night I hiss at old man bushy-tail, a Brush Tailed Possum. He’s a big boy so my hiss is very polite, not because I’m cowardly, but he is at least double my weight, grumpy and highly territorial. Years ago I made the wise decision never to upset him too much as the noises he makes would give my all-time hero, Chewbacca, the heebie-jeebies!

I always end my evening walkabout in our neighbour’s back garden. They have two beautiful Australian Tiffanies but, as they are house cats, we have had to become friends through their back windows. My nightly visits assure them that all is well with the tiny world they look out on. Little do they know that at the very end of their garden behind their Dad’s shed is my favourite place to visit.

The Mulch Bin

It is like a huge upside down green wheelie bin with a big hole in the bottom and a lid on the top. (By the way, I think wheelie bins should be banned, not only are they hazardous to felines who get trapped in them but also they make scary noises when being moved out to the street for the big trucks to come and empty them.) The neighbours fill their mulch bin with garden clippings, leaves, grass, leftovers and scraps from the kitchen, some paper and straw. Yes, I had to look it up on Google but, eventually, the bin makes compost which is really good stuff to put around plants as it is full of nutrients and is a natural fertiliser. (Who said that the internet wasn’t useful?)

Field mice, looking for a warm and cosy home, escape from the park which is just over the fence and is way too busy with dogs being walked and kids playing games. They take up residence under the bin every winter as the compost is warm. Mice being mice do their mice thing (I think they are bored) and within weeks there are lots of baby mice! It has to be one of nature’s miracles! Cats being cats do their cat thing, depopulate the world of mice because they remind us of our toys!

I’m a very patient cat and some nights I have to sit for two or three hours before I catch my prey. I use this time to ponder about such things as who makes the warm or cool air that blows down through our ceiling at home? How does it know whether to make warm or cool air? Are there really elephants in the moon, as @_Shuffs_ says? Where does the sun go when it sets? I wish huMum would get me an iPad so I could take it with me when I’m sitting, being patient, waiting for a curious mouse to stick its head out of the bottom of the much bin.

“Gotcha! No, no, no don’t squiggle. I promise I don’t want to hurt you. You are a present for my huMum. Shhhhh stay quiet, no squeaking or she will hear you.” Up the fence we go and then over onto neighbour’s roof and the long walk home to my roof, down onto the fence again and we are back to the patio.

In through the cat-door and I announce “HuMum we are home! Mum, mum, HUMUMMY look what I’ve got for you.” Very excited but muffled miaows emit from the sides of my mouth. “Yes it is for you but just let me play with it for a little while.” Woohoo huMum is joining in on the game. She is chasing me and I am chasing the mouse. We zoom around the dining room table, in and out through the chair legs, across the kitchen floor into the living room. Oh dear, the mouse is under the sofa. Uh oh huMum is making those muttering sounds that mean she is not happy, but she lifts the sofa and I dash under and grab my mouse. Damn huMum, in turn, has caught me! “Nope I will not give it to you,” I say. Darn it all, she has my mouse. “What it is dead? I promise you I didn’t mean to kill it. I just squeezed it too hard.”

HuMum locks me in the bathroom for 10 minutes. I make pitiful miaows and when let out I do my mad cat zoomy run to the living room and search for the mouse. It has gone! I look at huMum accusingly but she has gone back to watching the television. I’ll pay her back for making my mouse disappear. Yes, I know it was huMum’s present but it was still mine! All mine I tell you!

Easily solved I’ll just go and get another one! And so the cycle continues. I think my best record was four in one evening. The last of which I left on huMum’s bed for her to find when she woke up! She thought it was Christmas! NOT!

I think our best anecdote was when huMum was preparing for a dinner party happening the following evening. Just as she was making the gazpacho soup, I arrived home with a fairly big mouse hanging out of my mouth. To my delight there was a really long chase and I think I escaped capture about five times but, in my agitation, I accidentally dropped the mouse just near the refrigerator. HuMum was not impressed as she struggled to move the fridge out, but the wily old mouse just moved each time the fridge moved. “It is ok, I will stand guard all night,” I promised huMum, “You go and have a sleep.” She left all the doors onto the patio open that night in the hope that I would fall asleep on guard-duty and the mouse would escape. Ha! She has no idea what a good sentinel I am!

The next night I was banished to the bedroom so I didn’t get under the feet of the guests or shame huMum by jumping on the dining room table while they were eating. This is what I was told happened…

The meal was over and everyone was mellow from good food and a couple of bottles of Wolf Blass Yellow Label Cabernet Sauvignon, the lights were dim and warm air drifted in from the patio. Suddenly, one of the female guests let out an almighty SCREAM! “A mouse just walked across your kitchen floor,” she gasped! HuMum, although embarrassed, calmly told her guests how her beautiful Jessie (that’s me!) had lost one of her mice presents. She promised them it was a very clean, wee field mouse and would not hurt anyone.

The mouse must have escaped because it was not there when I was let out of my bedroom exile. HuMum, as she did the dishes and I sat on kitchen bench watching, told me the entire story. She was laughing so much tears were rolling down her cheeks. I was given lots of cuddles and got soapy suds all over me but I didn’t mind as her final words proudly rang in my ears, “Jessie, my darling, you are the best security guard cat and mouser/ratter in all of Australia!”

Nap time, bye-bye for now!

Cheese Glorious Cheese!

*burp* excuse me, blame it on the vintage cheddar!

Those of you who follow me on Twitter will have noticed my penchant for cheese, in particular, vintage tasty cheese. It took huMum a while to figure this out as she isn’t a big consumer of cheese and rarely has it in the house. A day finally arrived when she was using it to make scones. Oh the aroma! I tell you it is better than the “nip”! So I miaowed loudly, did double back-flips, climbed the curtains, sat on my scratching pole (which overlooks the kitchen bench) to attract her attention. Eventually she noticed me (dumb blonde) and passed a morsel. Gulp it was gone! “Oh you like that do you?” she asked. “More please,” I replied.

The problem is huMum had read an old wives’ tale that cheese is not good for cats, something about it causing us constipation. Well I’ll have you know that my bowel habits are very regular and none of anyone’s business!

Ever since the breakthrough day of the cheese scones huMum has given me little scraps of cheese when she is using it in her cooking, but it is never quiet enough. It just makes me want more and more and more! OK I’ll admit it. I am addicted. I love they way it looks, feels, smells, tastes; it is manna from heaven.

Liberation of the Cheese

Way back in June this year I hatched a devious plot and told you about it but, with only 140 characters in Twitter, it is very difficult to explain the scheming, calculating, hard work, danger and suspense that goes into appropriating a block of cheese. So here and now I will tell you the full story and I know you will forgive my embellishments.

I’m sitting at our front window patiently waiting for huMum’s car to come up the driveway. There it is! Zooming through house at breakneck speed, exit via my door, I arrive just as she steps out of the car! My head is rubbed but that is not what I want. “Open the hatch now you silly huMum, let me smell what you have brought home for me,” I miaow. I jump in when it opened and rummage through all the green eco-friendly bags and, yes, I smell cheese! Wrapping my body around huMum’s legs as she carries the bags to the kitchen and not letting her alone for a minute until she unpacks “my” cheese. “What! What are you doing? Why are you putting it in that cold white machine and hiding it from me?” I’m so disgruntled I leave in high dudgeon, tail in air showing off my neat arse!

The rest of the day is spent scheming. I go on Google when huMum is having her “nanna nap” and discover that the cold white machine is called a refrigerator and that its door has a rubber seal. Ding! My brain light goes on! I can definitely break into this cheese eating monster but first I have to grow my nails extra long. For the next few days I don’t allow myself to use my scratching pole or to climb trees. I must be patient and very wily.

Two days later, when my nails are very long and sharp, I start. Yes, you guessed it! I am going to strip the rubber along the bottom of the cold white machine’s door so that I can extricate my cheese. If I’m lucky I might be able to set free the chicken wings and beef patties too. It’s wonderful when I get big bits of rubber off, so rewarding. OK it is nearly 7.00am; using my tail I have to carefully sweep the evidence under the refrigerator. OMC the smell of cheese is strong! I’m pretending to be asleep on the back of the sofa while watching huMum, out of one eye, make her breakfast. Think I forgot to tell you that the sofa is my second favourite place to nap. Sorry I digress; the break-in will take place tonight.

Oh no, I just heard huMum telling her girlfriend that she is going to watch the soccer World Cup tonight. I can’t execute my plan to snaffle the cheese until after 2.00am. Instead, I’ll do my Neighbourhood Watch early, plus check out the mouse’s nest under the mulch bin.

Quietly I sneak back into the house dragging the barbecue tongs behind me. Puffing and panting, squirming and struggling I eventually manage to prise open the door of the cold white machine. Triumphantly I jump in! Uh oh! The door has slammed shut and the light is out! Shivering with cold I brace my shoulders against the meat tray and heave with my back legs. Escape made! Now for the mad-cat run to my wee swinging door with the cheese in my back-pack.

Burp, please excuse me. Yikes I am so fat I look like a black Garfield. Worse still is that my gigantic stomach is preventing me washing my “privates”. Think I better go for a nap and, hopefully, sleep it off.

Ten hours later … OMC I’m blocked! Straining to pooh is definitely undignified. It is worse than having kittens! Parp! Ugh, did I do that? Washing my arse in embarrassment. Not only that, I’m in pussy-purgatory as huMum has found the empty cheese tray! I’m pretending to be oblivious to her mutterings but she knows me too well. I’ve been sent to my naughty chair and been denied snacks for a week. I would do it all again tomorrow if I could summon enough energy.

Nap time, bye-bye for now!