If you don't stop taking stupid pictures ........!

......... I gonna haz a hissy fit !!!

The Jellicle Gang!

The sight of me running up and down the grass verge in my jogs and slippers tends to worry the neighbours a tad, so I try not to do it unless the moon is full - or is, at the very least, waning gibbous - and there's also an R in the month!  Don't you just love the names of the phases of the moon?  Waxing crescent, waning gibbous, new, full, dark, blue, half, bad ...... ahem!

Well anyway let's get to the point. Austin has joined a gang!  I've been obsessing since he first came about the (relatively) busy road in front of the house and have told him umpteen times not to even think about crossing it.  Well apart from a couple of occasions when Tigger seduced him, I believe he's kept on the straight and narrow - until recently that is, as I mentioned a couple of blog posts ago.  Ok it's not a hugely busy road, but the cars race up and down - it's fairly straight and boy racers come in all shapes and sizes ....  and genders!  I worry. 

This road, by the way, is actually part of the Anglesey Coastal Path. It's possibly the only coastal path in Britain which offers the possibility of travelling at 70 mph and has even had the odd 30 ton container lorry find it's way there courtesy of a Ukrainian satnav.  It happened this week; I saw (and heard) a huge juggernaut roar by and then waited a few minutes to watch it reverse all the way back again.  Its shadow filled the window; it had nowhere to go.  Last I saw it was trying to back into a three foot hedge!  If he'd accidentally been caught up in its undercarriage, Austin could've ended up in Kiev or Gdansk, or Aberdeen.  Doesn't bear thinking about! 

Anyway, yesterday Austin was spied with his front paws up on the dry stone wall next to the gate opposite, looking into Blackie's Field. Today he was seen sitting the other side of the gate.  He sat there for so long that my curiosity got the better of me and I padded over there in the aforementioned "dissables" to see what the attraction was.  I leaned on the gate and we had a little chat.  We talked about this and that and whether England was likely to get through to the next round - he said it's not likely on present form and anyway he preferred rugby, being Welsh (huh!) and did I know that I was being stared at by a couple of people in shorts and rucksacks? 

I ignored him (and them) and looked up and over further into the field and did a double take (literally)!  There was a black and white cat staring back at me.  I looked a bit further and there was another!!!  What the ...... ?  In fact all three of them were sitting facing the road and formed an equilateral triangle about ten feet apart.  Talk about seeing double; I'd never seen either of the other two before (except one of them COULD have been Two, I suppose).  The sheep were just a little way off taking no notice and munching their lunch to the accompaniment of cacophonous cackling from a couple of jackdaws who'd popped by for a snack.  I also thought I spied Tigger skulking under a bush, who was probably drafting a letter of complaint to the council about the deterioration of the neighbourhood and the influx of eastern Eurocats who take all the jobs and indulge in a lot of thwacking with paws.

So there we have it, the Jellicle Gang are now in town.  I'd better get a message to Big Ginge, soonest. 

On the way back across the road I started to acquaint Austin with the Green Cross Code, but I confused myself and started chuntering on about the Jolly Green Giant. Realising I was on a hiding to nothing, I have now put road safety awareness back on my to-do list along with cat flap orientation and furniture scratching resistance training.

Not so daft!

I kind of understand why cats scratch the furniture; no, I do really! It's something to do with marking territory and sharpening claws. Actually, I've been very remiss about training Austin in this respect, so as he's got older, he's got into very bad habits. As a result, the furniture has acquired a look that's a mixture of shabby chic and derelict sink estate.

Just lately, I've been trying to encourage him to resist the urge to rip up the Parker Knoll, but being the attention seeking, rebellious teenager he is, he does it all the more!  So, before we are reduced to sitting on large piles of kapok and broken springs, I've introduced "Austin calming measures" (note rather neat link to previous post!). 

Picture the scene. It's evening and Austin returns from his twilight forays, eats a mouthful of Felix salmon marinade and heads to the sofa arm.  In a trice I've whipped out a plastic spray container full of water - had to be careful it wasn't the one from the garden with the fertiliser, as I didn't want Austin to wake up the next morning to discover he'd morphed from short haired sleek moggie to long haired shagpile moggie, courtesy of "Miracle-Gro-all-purpose-concentrated-liquid-plant-food"!  His reaction was swift; he took one look and before I'd even had time to pull the trigger he was out the room!  

And this was how it played out for the next day or two.  He'd enter the room, I'd lift my arm (say to pick up a glass or scratch my head) and he'd shoot off in the opposite direction.  So now he wasn't even coming near me :~(  One evening he slunk in and slipped through the curtains into the bay window and all was quiet for about 30 minutes as he sat and surveyed his catdom.  Now normally what would happen is he'd eventually nose his way out, go scratch the armchair and then jump on my lap for the evening ritual of shiatsu and cuddles.  This time though he decided discretion was the better part of valour.  This time the scratch scratch scratch took place behind the curtain as he systematically ripped up the carpet around the edge of the window.  When he finally emerged he gave me such a look of triumph all I could do was fall about laughing! 

Needless to say we have agreed on a truce - with conditions: He scratches when I'm not around and I relegate the spray to the back of the cupboard.  

                                          

Road Rage!

My cat stomps! Oh yes he surely does!  Never heard anything like it; he makes walking across the kitchen sound like a pneumatic drill going full pelt! 

I'm downstairs minding my own business trying to be quiet and reflective and upstairs Austin's deciding he needs some attention. How can it be that he makes such a racket?  All he is doing is walking across the floor, but to me downstairs, it sounds like the builders are in. Stomp, stomp STOMP!  I know what he wants. "Foooood".  It's ridiculous really, he hardly eats enough to keep a flea alive. But he likes to make a fuss just so's he gets a chance to wind in and out my legs and trip me up. 

To my deep consternation, Austin has developed a hankering to cross the road in front of the house.  Now, although it is a 30 mph speed limit, cars race along at 60 or 70!  I really don't want to have to go and scrape him off the road, but don't know, short of locking him up, what to do to stop him going!  He used to be such a scaredy cat, but now, egged on, I believe, by Tigger the Massive and enticed by the green fields and baby lambs opposite, he's finding temptation too much to overcome. 

A couple of times I've caught him sitting in the middle of the road!!  Aaaargh!  I know the council are supposed to be introducing traffic calming measures soon, but am not sure what form this will take? Is some poor lowly council employee going to have to stand at the side of the road with a tranquiliser gun taking pot shots at all passing vehicles?  I need to know, because if the training isn't top notch they might miss the target and hit something with legs!  It's all a bit of a worry!

Bee-attitude!

We found this bee several days ago on the primula. I have to say it was looking a bit weary and bedraggled. As it is just outside the conservatory window, we kept an eye on it to see how it fared. The following day it had fallen out and was lying in the earth. That was it, we thought.  It was old and sick; its time had come! 

This morning the sun was shining and birds were singing and Bertie the Bee had somehow mustered up all his strength to climb back on the flower.  He can teach us a great deal about life, I reckon!

Tigger the Massive!

Here is Tigger-or-whatever-he's-called sleeping in Austin's bed.  He is getting fat.  Austin is about half his size and they must be about the same age!  Hope folk don't think we're starving him!! 

There is no doubt that Tigger-or-whatever-he's-called is a bon vivant and a bit of a gourmand to boot. From these photos he's a part time buddha as well!  Austin?  Well he was sulking on the chair by the door and declined to have his photo taken.

A Little Whine .....

After all this time (nearly 2½ years) I still can't understand one aspect of Austin's behaviour - actually there's more than one, as detailed elsewhere, but this one really causes me a bit of a flummox!  First of all we need to remember the somewhat confusing layout of the house: 

"There are three doors to the outside and the downstairs is upstairs and the upstairs is downstairs and the back garden is upstairs and the front garden is downstairs. The back door is at the side, the conservatory is upstairs behind the kitchen and the front door is, rather surprisingly, at the front"  

When I let "his nibs" in from the garden downstairs through the back door (which is at the side), he will not, I repeat NOT, leave my side to go upstairs on his own!  This amazes me as "upstairs" is where his food and all his other catly requirements are!  Nope, instead he attaches himself like velcro to my leg, meowing in a most petulant and whiny manner, until I head for the stairs. 

Being a tad contrary and a bit of a tease, sometimes I'll make for the stairs as if intent on ascending, but then veer off at the last minute humming distractedly and detour to the study or front door (which is at the front).  By the time he's cottoned on, he's more-or-less at the top and looking a bit foolish with his head stuck between the bannisters and front near-side paw poised, ready for the ritual "thwacking of the innocent passer-by".  He can hear me sniggering around the corner and comes down again to have another moan. 

Meanwhile I've made it to the bathroom and am mixing the cement and preparing the creams and powders necessary to carry out running repairs in the form of rendering and grouting on my phiz.  Austin sits on my foot and apes me. 

In this fashion we continue for some time in companionable silence, which is only broken by the sound of a cat abluting and a human being plastered!  When finally we both make it upstairs, I have to make amends by standing very close to him while he eats his fishy bits, keeping a sharp look out for thieves, marauders and Tiggers.