Been to boot camp the last few days because my mum has been poorly. She’s had what she calls three ‘full blown’ colds since the start of the year and this last one is the worst. The Irish aunt took me back this morning and I told mum I’d be a much better nurse than those cats so she let me upstairs and onto her bed. No cat food around, though. I take my nursing role very seriously.
Woe, woe and thrice woe! That cheeky Marley has not given up possession of my bed, MY bed. Not happy having it all to himself for the weekend, he’s still in residence now I’m home. I had a brief nap in it after the beach but I went to see what my mum was doing in the kitchen (making bread, marzipanning a Christmas cake, no snacks for dogs…) and when I come back – there he is, IN MY BED.
My mum does not see the seriousness of it and stands there taking photos and sniggering instead of helping me take back ownership. Says I’m bigger than him and could either shift him or get in beside. Cuddle up with Marley? Me? I’m frit!
I have been forced, under threat of no bedtime biscuits, into publishing this pictorial eulogy to the cats. I was blissfully unaware of the significance of this Saturday which began with an invigorating swim on our beach followed by a sunny afternoon in the yard with my people and a delicious dinner with a serving of lamb and vegetables in my kibble.
Then, I”m told, a blog post is absolutely necessary otherwise the cats will be offended. OFFENDED? We’ve hardly seen them. Marley has been out all day (hunting, I expect) and Cleo did her usual round of catcalls then disappeared to sleep on the spare bed.
International Cat Day, I ask you; when is it International Dog Day?
Back from a lovely trip to Scotland to see my Aunty Avril and my four-legged relatives again. I get to ride in the back seat of the car – fastened down, mind – when we go on a longer trip so I can see everything as we drive.
I had a wonderful time – three walks one day! – and my mum says I was thoroughly spoilt.
This is me in the car with my mum then out and about in the woodlands. My Aunty Avril believes in dogs getting lots of treats and I was allowed to sleep in my mum’s bedroom – no way is this tolerated at home! – so I could sneak up and snuggle in to her while she was asleep. And all thw while those pesky cats were home alone!
We didn’t get home without trauma, however. My mum took a detour to have the car washed and I was petrified – jumped right over into the passenger seat even though I was fastened to the seatbelt in the back! My mum said I was a wuss. That’s not fair – she knows I don’t like water from a hose!
Those cats have the life of Riley, I tell you, lazy beasts. They get to sleep upstairs, unlike me who is barred, and then spend the days sleeping anywhere they like while I’m up and about racing on the beach. The most exercise I’ve seen that Marley do is jump in and out of a window. And Cleo only seems to exercise her vocal chords, miaow, miaow, miaow, all the time.
See what I mean:
Holy moley, this has to be the ultimate indignity – a cat in my bed! Marley in MY bed. It’s not enough that he has free rein to sleep on any of the human beds in the house, on the back of the sofas, the best chair, my mum’s knee – he takes up residence in MY bed. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I saw him. My mum told a friend she nearly wet herself laughing but that’s too much information in my view. She stopped long enough to take photos, of course, to capture my anguish. Didn’t bother shifting him.
Me shift him? You have to be kidding – this is a giant cat and I’m a bit in awe of him, kinda scared that he will wop me like Sherry (the former cat) did when I was a youngster. They have sharp teeth and claws do cats, so I’m always polite in their company. Best to err on the side of caution. He had, fortunately, moved by the time we got back from the beach so I was able to dry out on my towel without interference.