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Tag Archives: CATS

The end (of the hols) is nigh

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Found the cat taking great interest in the two man bobsleigh today. He had his feet up against the TV stand, transfixed and trying to look behind the TV every time the sleigh went round a corner. 

This prompted a conversation about cats taking part in Olympic sports.

And this most excellent of Photoshop effort from youngest Childerbeast.


The end of half term is upon us and not only is it the dreaded ‘back to work eve’ (aka Sunday) 😟 but it’s ‘back to work after a week off’ eve 😵


Bman is at work. Youngest is at her pal’s and going to a gig no less this evening. (Check your exits, stay near your pal’s dad, no booze, no drugs, text me when you get back to your pal’s).  Meanwhile the eldest and I are embracing the Year of the Dog by having a Chinese take-out later.

I might treat myself before that and do the ironing with a glass of the lovely bison grass vodka my mate brought me back from Poland.

Ciao Tutti Xx


Cat scratch fever

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Busted out the old lateral thigh trainer to trim down, in order to fatten up, for Christmas.  It’s very creaky. The neighbours will be wondering what’s occurring, particularly in light of the Bman being away!  Tonight I cranked up the tuneage to drown it out.  That’s right Bman. I’m using the mothercluckin’ stereo. I could leave it on all night and you’d never know. Along with the back door unlocked, the recycling in the wrong bin and the thermostat on turbo.


I digress… 

    … amplified tuneage calls of course, for a singalong while working out.  It’s been a while, but something about my dulcet tones seems to excite the cat.  She sat herself on the stool opposite me and went a bit psycho.   I like to think she’s rocking out along with me to ’18 & Life’,  ‘My Pony’ or ‘It’s Raining Men’ (I have eclectic taste – don’t judge me!)
In all likelihood she is probably screaming for help, or earplugs, or just wants to hurt me like that time she bit me on the nose when I was singing along to Adele.

Bang Bang

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Bloody fireworks do my head in. What with Diwali round here and Bonfire Night coming up, I’m constantly checking on the whereabouts of my cats.

    Bit chilly tonight to be stood on the doorstep in my scants, shaking my bag of cat biscuits (not a euphemism BTW) and shouting “Alan. Alan. Alan.”  and making kissy kissy noises. Which incidentally is the name of one of my neighbours, aswell as our cat. So I perhaps should’ve put a dressing gown on.


The fat moggy eventually trotted in, no doubt from scoffing supper at someone else’s house.

Cats do the dumbest things (just like their owners)

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Woke up this morning to find Pepper on the wrong side of the window, perched on the ledge, one storey up!   Miaowing & carrying on but making little effort to try & get back in.

Cue, my good self, perched on indoor side of the windowsill hanging my (not long enough) arm out the window, trying to coax her back in.

It was about 10 minutes into this farcical enterprise when the father  of an ex-student walked past & took an interest in proceedings, that I realized I was still only clad in knickers & vest!  Doubtless looking quite the picture from pavement level, where he was now passing comment about trying to ‘shake some treats out the window’.  At this juncture I decided I probably had enough treats shaking at the window as it was.

I tried dangling my curtains out the window (easy now) but the cat was having none of it. Resorted to the treat shaking and she eventually made a jump for it but changed her mind & refused to jump down on the inside.  I ended up rugby tackling her in as carefully as I could without crashing through the window myself.

Window now not quite as wide open, to prevent a repeat performance.

Fortunately Sadly no photographic evidence of my half-naked self pressed up against the double glazing. Unless ex-student’s dad took a cheeky snap. In which case it’s probably all over Facebook.


smelly cat part 2

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So the vet put Gollum under to in order to remove the manky teeth and they found a tumor!


Ill news indeed.

Despite this death sentence (there is nothing they can do) she still seems lively enough.  We have cat painkiller for her (the same stuff Pepper had when she broke her leg).  All we can do now is give her a daily dose to take the edge off, but eventually the tumor will increase in size and once she can no longer eat it will be feline Dignitas times.

16 years old and mine and Bman’s first baby really.  Once she has gone we’ll be left with that crazy hunchback pegleg of a Southern puss, Pepper.  She went nuts when she saw the syringe thing for the liquid painkiller and tried to snatch it from my hands.  Think she remembers it from her daily doses when she was caged up with her Robocop leg.  Freakin’ crack-addict cat!



Smelly cat Smelly cat, it’s not your fault.

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So, after putting up with Gollum the cat’s death-breath for some time now, yesterday was the final straw.  She had clearly been yakking up bloody spittle, when I found my bed covers looking like a scene from’ Carrie ‘- post prom!

One trip to the vets and, 50 sheets lighter for the privilege, I was told that she had bad breath (no shit there Sherlock) but the reason was tooth decay (and not any of the horrendous cat Ebola type fatal maladies I had spent the evening looking up online).

Note to self:  Told you dozens of times before – do not research illnesses online – no good will come of it!

So she has had an antibiotic jab and has to go back next week to have several teeth removed.  Meanwhile I will have another 350 sheets removed from my wallet.  FFS!

Hopefully she will be fine afterwards and won’t peg out during the anaesthetic 😦

During my cat Ebola death-breath research though I did stumble across this:-   False Teeth for Cats


My cats are so not gangster enough.

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Like a dumbass I managed to lock the shed keys (which were on the same keyring as the back door keys) in the shed yesterday! 

I went to get bread out of the freezer and decide what I was going to rustle up for tea later that day and, for reasons best known to the dustier regions of my mind, padlocked the shed up again whilst leaving the keys still inside!

What a crackhead!  “Never mind” I thought, “Bman has a spare on his keyring”.  Pity then that he had gone to York the day before and taken his keys with him “in case you and the kids decide to go out”.  Not much chance of that happening now that I couldn’t lock the back door properly.

Foxtrot Foxtrot Sierra!

I tried several attempts at lockpicking but was afeared of nacking up the lock altogether so that the actual key wouldn’t then work when Bman got home.  I also tried in vain to coax the cats to get into the shed through the catflap & retrieve the keys for me but they basically laughed in my face (in that way that cats do when they just eyeball you unblinking for a few minutes and then start to lick their butthole contemptuously.)

Where that phrase ‘cat burglar’ comes from I do not know but it clearly doesn’t apply to my two pets.


You want me to do what now?

You want me to do what now?

Fortunately I’d had the foresight to pick up a bottle of wine while I was getting the bread, so all was not totally lost.  Sadly, instead of the ‘sumptuous’ chicken feast I was hoping to cobble together for the childerbeast for their tea, it ended up being tinned items all round.

So now I am waiting for Bman to come home from his carousing around York and open the damn shed so we can have something for lunch that isn’t toast or something from a tin.

Meanwhile, the sun is out and so are the childerbeast.  Outdoors no less after the past 2 days self-imposed house imprisonment.

Lazy times.