May 1st 2008 11:21 pm
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My human told me that today is Blogging Against Disablism Day. I thought I'd join in. After all... it's something I know a bit about.
I'm almost certainly dyspraxic. Of course, I don't know for sure because there is no diagnostic test for cats. I'm not sure if that's disablism or speciesism. Anyway, other cats perceive me as weak because I'm always losing my balance and falling off stuff. So they pick on me. And that's not fair! It's disablism I tell you.
I used to hang out outside all the time when I lived in Shrewsbury, because there were loads of other cats and a dog about. So I stayed outside so they couldn't pick on me. But now I have a whole flat to myself (well, except for the human, and humans don't count) so I won't go outside. In fact, when the human leaves the back door open on hot days I hide under the sofa in case another animal decides to march in here like they own the place.
It's not just because of my dyspraxia that I face disablism. I have food allergies too. I can't eat chicken or turkey because they give me explosive diarrhoea. So what happens when I go to nan and grandad's house? They eat chicken. In front of me. That's just cruel. I don't taunt them about being wheelchair users, so why would they do this to me?
My human is someone else who should know better, being disabled herself. If I'm standing on her and I lose my balance, I dig my claws in in an attempt to stop myself from falling. Who wouldn't? But she always shouts "ow!" and frightens me. I think that's disablist too. If I didn't have problems with my sense of balance, I wouldn't dig my claws in. So shouting because of it is mean. Again, I don't pick on her for being disabled.
Disablism - not just a human phenomenon.
Annoyingly this blog doesn't have a comments feature. If you've got something you want to say to me about this post, please leave a comment on my human's BADD post. She'll pass the message on.
March 18th 2008 5:17 pm
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I think the human is having an affair.
She came home from Universe City on Friday smelling of another cat.
How does one get covered in another cat in a lecture?
She insists it was all perfectly innocent. She went down the pub with her classmates to celebrate the end of term, and the pub cat just came and sat on her lap.
Hmmm....
February 25th 2008 7:31 pm
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I'm in a bad mood. Stomp. Strop.
The human got a new computer today. The old one worked fine, but it's something to do with the fact that she's disabled and goes to a place called "Universe City" on a Friday. I don't like her going to Universe City. She should stay at home and play with me all day. Why does she need another qualification in watching telly anyway?
Anyway, this new computer. There are cardboard boxes *everywhere*. I can't even sit on the sofa anymore. It's not right!
And the human is paying more attention to the computer than to me. I should be the centre of attention at all times, dammit! It's not like a computer is anywhere near as cute as me.
I was feeling a bit guilty about peeing in the human's bed this morning. Now however I feel totally justified. Hmph.
November 20th 2007 6:59 pm
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I will never understand humans. They are far too fickle.
One minute they're mean, the next they'll go and do something lovely.
Yesterday the human bought me a really cool Monkey. She stuffed his T Shirt full of catnip and everything and I just love him.
Then today she forced a giant tablet down my throat!
Two minutes later she's giving me human quality corned beef.
How are you supposed to deal with humans when they behave so erratically?
October 9th 2007 9:17 pm
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Sometimes you just need to annoy your human. They can do all kinds of things wrong - rolling over and going back to sleep when you need to be stroked in the middle of the night, serving your breakfast at the wrong temperature... that kind of thing.
One of the things that bothers humans the most is when you wee outside your litter tray.
Trouble is, I have that natural urge to wee in my liter tray. I just feel dirty going elsewhere.
I've found the perfect solution.
What I've worked out is that I can stand with all 4 paws in the litter tray, but squat my bum over the edge. That way I get the feeling of using my litter tray, so I don't feel all gross, but, I still actually wee on the floor so the human has to clear it up!
Try it!
September 5th 2007 10:22 pm
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Ha! I was right! The human did start cleaning.
But... she's gone insane! She has literally emptied *everything* out of the lounge and been putting down carpets and building furniture and stuff.
It's all too confusing for me.
It was fine when she started... I discovered that there was in fact a sofa underneath that mountain of crap. Oh, it was so much fun. I rolled around on it for ages like a happy little kitten. Until I fell asleep.
But, when I woke up everything had gone! Including all the stuff under the sofa! Now I've got nothing to hide behind under there!
It's sick and wrong I tell you.
The worst part is the new carpety ruggy thing smells all new. That won't do. It should smell like me. Problem is, every time I scratch at it to mark it with my scent that human shouts at me to "get my damn claws out of her new carpet."
I've found a piece of paper to sit on in the middle of the room. This place is too tidy. I'm not letting her have this piece of paper, we need some mess around. I shall not be moved!
September 5th 2007 11:50 am
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Oh, bloody hell. The human is singing again.
This usually means she's about to start cleaning.
Chaos!
I don't like chaos!
Why can't she just sit in front of the telly like every other day?
June 26th 2007 9:42 pm
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The lamb was for me! It was my birthday treat.
Apparently she (not very secretively) roasted it yesterday so it was cooked in time for me to have it for my birthday breakfast.
Nummy, nummy, nummy I've got lamb in my tummy.
Yeah, that human's pretty cool as far as humans go. Except she's now started to refer to me as "Old woman."
June 25th 2007 11:19 pm
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My human is so mean.
Like the other day for example. I was sitting on the windowsill watching a cute little squirrel jumping around in the treetops. It look so cute I just wanted to jump up and play with it, until I'd beaten it to death. Then I'd play with it some more.
So, I jumped up to try and catch it.
OK, so I forgot the window was there.
I first crashed into the window, then fell down with a crash landing onto Lisa's bed.
I'm so glad she has her bed next to the window or I might have lost another of my 9 lives.
Anyway, me crashing down next to her at 6am apparently scared the crap out of her. She screamed.
When she realised what had happened she called me "stupid."
Me! Stupid? I'm not the one that put a see through sheet of glass there.
Told you my human was mean.
Tonight she really outdid herself at the whole tormenting me thing.
She cooked lamb. She's a vegetarian!
The cow didn't give me any. Not even a tiny little piece. And she knows how much I love lamb. Real proper lamb I mean. Not that processed crap for cats.
The whole flat smells of lamb and it's making me hungry. Not only didn't she give me any, she's hidden it so I can't find it and help myself.
In protest I'm sitting in front of the oven and I'm not moving. She's put me some regular cat food down for dinner, but I ain't touching it. Not when there's real lamb somewhere in the flat. My plan is that eventually she'll think I'm so cute and patient and adorable that she'll cave and give me some lamb. Or I'll go on hunger strike, and in the end she'll have to give me lamb or I'll starve.
Why was a vegetarian roasting lamb chops anyway?
March 12th 2007 9:17 pm
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The human's complaining about being tired.
It's not my fault.
OK, so I might have woken her up once or twice during the night by howling. But it wasn't my fault - I was scared. There was all these shadows being cast around the room from the light coming in through the window in the back door.
And that's not my fault either.
OK, so I weed on the curtain that usually covers that window so Lisy had to take it down and wash it.
But that wasn't my fault either.
No self-respecting cat will wee in a litter tray with something on top of it. And I really had to go, which is why I used the curtain.
OK, so the item on top of the litter tray was the poo I'd just done. But it was so perfect I couldn't bring myself to bury it.
How can the human possibly be mad at me for waking her up during the night over that? When it clearly wasn't my fault?
November 4th 2006 4:08 pm
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I always get a bit scared when Lisy does housework. It's not like she does it often enough for me to get used to it.
But today is terrifying. She's not only doing housework, but singing while she's at it. I thought cats fighting was a nasty sound, but they've got nothing on her wailing.
I'm going to hide under the sofa until it's all over - smeg all the fireworks going off tonight, they don't bother me in the slightest (oh the life of an indoor cat...) it's Lisy's singing that should carry a health warning for pets.
September 2nd 2006 11:42 am
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OK, when the human isn't feeling well (which seems to be so much of the time), never once have I tried to shove her in a box and cart her around London to her least favourite place in the world.
So, what does she do to me?
I'm not feeling 100%. I can't pee and my bladder hurts.
Instead of pampering me and trying to cheer me up, just like I treat her when she's poorly; she stuffed me in my carry box (I was so angry that I grabbed the door as she was putting me in there and slammed it shut behind me) and carted me off to the vet.
Hello!!! I'm ill! I don't even like going there when I'm fine. They poke you, stick you with sharp stuff, and, there's always evil dogs about.
And that's exactly what happened this morning. When the vet finally managed to pull me out of my box (damn my illness leaving me feeling less capable of defending myself) she went straight for the bladder and poked it. The human had just told you that was the bit of me that hurt, yet, you still went straight for it? Sadists.
The vet left the room for a while. I had a look around to see if there was any way I could escape the torture of what she might do when she came back. There wasn't. Damn.
The vet came back brandishing not just one but 2 sharp things. Which she stabbed me with. Apparently those sharp things will make my pain go away. That is just such human logic, isn't it? To make your pain go away we'll hurt you more by stabbing you.
The good news is that I'm only allowed to eat wet food for the next five days. The bad news is that if I'm still having trouble peeing then, I have to go back to that nasty place, and they're gonna keep me there until they've gotten their hands on some of my wee to "sample". I don't even wanna know. I'm determined to not think about it.
Hehe. Actually, I feel rather happy and fuzzy. Maybe there is something to that stabbing thing that it makes you feel better after all? Next time the human is poorly I'll stab her with my claw and see if it helps.
August 22nd 2006 10:11 pm
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Ugh. I hate it when that human thinks she knows better than me.
What I hate even more is when it turns out that she's right, and she did, in fact, know better than me.
Yesterday I was trying to pull my collar off (as I regularly do. Stupid thing), when one of my lower fangs got caught in the little ring attaching an ID tag to the collar. As if she needs to make me wear something with both her phone numbers engraved on it in case I get lost. It's not like I ever leave the house (it's far too noisy out there and nice in here).
I was sitting on her bed, trying to free my tooth from the ring. I was getting a little panicked, what with not being able to close my mouth and all. The human noticed my slightly frantic attempts to free my fang and goes "here, let me help you."
I'm a damn cat! I like my independence and being able to manage things on my own. Not only that, but, it's kind of embarrasing to admit in front of the human when I've done something a bit thick. Like if I fall off the bed, I have to compose myself very quickly into a "no, I meant to do that" pose.
So, I did what any self respecting cat would do - I hid under the bed and continued fighting for freedom. I was a bit pre-occupied with having one of my teeth attached to my collar though, and I forgot how long I am. My head and shoulders were under the bed, but, I'd left my bum sticking out, giving the human the opportunity to grab me by the hips, pull me out from under the bed, and demonstrate how much of a know-it-all she is.
She plonked me on her lap, and held me still, despite my best efforts to escape. For all I knew she could've been hiding my hairbrush behind her back. And with my tooth stuck, that was the last thing I was in the mood for. And the worst part was, because I couldn't close my mouth, I couldn't even bite the cow to get her to let go of me.
Being the Little Miss Perfect that she is, she undid my collar and unhooked my tooth in the space of about a second. After a minute or so of not being able to close my mouth, the first thing I did was to take advantage of the fact that I could swallow again.
You will never believe what the human did next though. Despite my obvious hatred of my collar, she did the thing up again! I'd utterly failed to prove my point that it's a stupid, evil, invention.
One day I will know better than her about something - just you watch Miss Lisy.
July 18th 2006 8:27 pm
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Sunday sucked.
Lisy is going into hospital tomorrow to have that nasty tooth that hurts her sawn in half and taken out. While I'm kinda happy about that because I don't like to see her hurting (OK, I don't like to see her in pain because she's not got the energy to play with me as much. It's all about me...) it means that I've had to come back to Nan and Grandad's house in Clacton while she's in hospital.
The mean noisy people in Lisy's area vandalised her car. Then broke into it. Then vandalised it some more. So, it's at the car hospital being fixed. She's at the moment got what's called a "courtesy car." I don't like courtesy cars, they don't have air conditioning, which is apparently the stuff that makes cars cooler. I think it's like the conditioner she puts on her hair, but I'm not too sure.
So, to get me here, Lisy had to put me in my box (which I don't like and fought and fought against. But she had me trapped in the hall and I couldn't escape from her forcing me in there). Then she put me in the hot, hot car.
The heat made me feel really ill. I couldn't stop panting and drooling (how undignified - the heat had me acting like a dog), and then I accidentally pooed myself. Lisy thought I was going to faint, so she kept knocking on my box to check I was OK, which was just annoying.
The car stopped, Lisy carried me out and took me into this weird small room. It was really dirty and smelly. Apparently we were at something humans call a "service area" and the room was called a "disabled toilet." The toilet seemed to be working OK to me when Lisy flushed it, but, I think the word "disabled" means it's for use by disabled people (like Lisy) and not that the toilet doesn't work properly.
She let me out of my box and I got to roam around the room and mark it with my scent for about 20 minutes. It was so refreshing to be in the shade and to be able to stretch my legs while Lisy cleaned the poo out of my box and attempted to clean me up a bit.
It was much nicer in this dirty smelly room than it was being in my box in the car. But, again, Lisy had me trapped in a small room, and I couldn't escape when she tried to put me back in the box. She's far too clever and knows far too well how to corner me now. I must come up with some better plans for avoiding that box.
We got back in the car, and feeling refreshed I had the energy for the final leg of the journey to protest loudly about being boxed up.
The worst was still to come.
She let me out of my box when we got to her parents house and dumped me straight in a sink full of cool water. Apparently something about me being covered in poo offended her. It was me that was covered, and, if I want to clean it off in my own time - I should be allowed to! Who cares if I leave the odd brown stain on the furniture?
Anyway, once I'd been bathed I was allowed to go my own way, explore the house and even got my favourite for dinner as an apology for everything the human had done to me. She's not that bad, really.
June 29th 2006 7:48 pm
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Oh, I am so The Queen.
I have an "Official Birthday" too.
No-one knows when I was born. It's not like I remember. I didn't open my eyes till I was a few days old, so it's not like I looked at the calendar on the day I was born and made a mental note of the date. So, Lisy decided that my Official Birthday was on June 26th. She figured it's in the middle of the year, so, as good a guess as any, and it's the 7 month anniversary of when I moved in here.
So, on Monday I had salmon for breakfast as a birthday treat. Lisy nearly made herself sick picking the vertebrae out of it (stupid vegetarians). So, I decided I'd have a few mouthfuls and then leave the rest. I think that's suitable revenge for when she nearly made me sick stuffing a worming tablet down my throat.
About a week and a half ago, I finally managed to get my collar off, and hide it somewhere the human can't find it. I hated that damn thing. Can you believe that for my birthday, a day which is supposed to be all nice and fun - she bought me another one! How rude!
I did also get a bee, which is much more fun though.
You can see some photos of me wearing my new collar, playing with my bee here.
June 13th 2006 5:55 pm
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Lisy painted a picture of me: http://artpad.art.com/gallery/?j0t5cdwg4gw
I don't look that lopsided, do I?
Here's perhaps a better picture... http://static.flickr.com/69/166546989_25f9838773.jpg?v=0
June 6th 2006 1:25 am
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The human has sinus problems. At least that's her excuse for the god awful smell in her bedroom. She calls the smell "Olbas Oil."
So, for the last few nights I've had to sleep in the lounge, because I couldn't bear it.
I tend to go for a dump at about 4am. I've been making sure that on my way into the bathroom, I stop in her doorway and shout at her for a while, just so she knows how unhappy I am about the odour.
Once I've been for my poo she usually remarks on how bad I've made the flat smell. Her sinuses can't be that screwed then.
The other day I did something that was apparently "oh, so cute!"
There were 2 cans of food in a carrier bag in the lounge. To make sure she knew I was hungry, I dragged the bag from the far end of the room, and put it next to my food bowl.
Lisy heard the dragging noise and came into the lounge to see what I was up to.
When she saw what I'd done, rather than cracking open a can and putting some dinner down for me, she burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that I thought a bit of wee might come out.
Turns out the cans contained Baked Beans and not cat food.
They should put human food in different shaped cans, dammit!
June 2nd 2006 12:31 am
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That evil bitch forced me into taking a worming tablet this evening.
She nearly didn't succeed. The first two attempts I managed to spit it back up. The third time she got me though.
Revenge will be mine. Oh, yes. It will be mine.
May 29th 2006 12:00 am
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Wow. It's been ages since I wrote anything here. The trouble is, my paws are too big for the computer keys, so if I try and type myself it ends up coming out as "fdong rhojoure nbj pnreap nj," so I rely on Lisy transcribing for me. And she's lazy. I keep trying to convince her to buy me a large-button keyboard so I can keep up this blogging without her help. She claims she's too poor - but you should see the amount she spends on stinky bubble baths and such.
Anyway, since I last wrote, I've been on holiday. I spent nearly three weeks in Clacton on Sea. Which is as dull as Lisy claims it is. Not that I really saw much of the town (other than out of the car window). I spent my holiday at her parents house. Which is biiiiiiiig.
The reason I got a holiday to Clacton was because Lisy took a holiday to California. I wanted to go too. Meanie not taking me. I get stuck in Clacton while she goes off and enjoys the sun. Not fair! She came home covered in freckles while all I got covered with was dust from under Nan and Grandad's bed.
I got to meet lots of new people. I met Lisy's Auntie Jill and her cousin Karen. I didn't like her cousin Kevin though. Her parents explained something about how Kevin was redecorating the hall. All I cared about was the fact that he came in every day and made lots of loud noises and strange smells (apparently that smell is called "paint").
But, Lisy's mum did get revenge on Lisy for not taking me with her. Nan Emailed Lisy and told her that I'd worked out how to open their bedroom door. What she didn't say was that the door doesn't have a catch on it, so all I had to do was push. Apparently the lack of this final bit of information sent Lisy into a panic for about 24 hours that I'd learned how to work door-handles.
I had fun, I got very spoiled (I love going and visiting those carnivores. I get fed real meat too. These stupid vegetarian owners who won't cook me anything and just give me cat food out of a can), and had loads of room to run around and play in.
It was nice to come "home" though. I missed my flat. It may be small, but it's my home and I love it. I also kinda missed Lisy, but I missed my flat more.
She brought me a present back from America - one of those laser pointer toys. Which is fun. It's most fun to play with in the bathroom, because that room doesn't have a window, so if the light's off, I can see that little red dot really clearly. When she first introduced me to it, I got so excited chasing it that I trod in my water bowl and got all wet. Which was *not* nice.
Remember how I told you that Lisy is scared of mice? Well, turns out she doesn't like spiders either. Last night I was playing with one in the lounge, and she just kept shrieking at me to "kill the damn thing before it comes over this side of the room!" So, I kept poking it to wind it up, hoping it'd run over there. In the end though I poked it a bit too hard and squashed it, so stuffed the dead spider body down the gap between two floorboards. She seemed satisfied with that and stopped squeaking.
Night kids.
March 16th 2006 11:46 pm
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I did indeed get my revenge on Lisy for waking me up.
3am I decided to stamp on her face to get her to give me some attention.
She couldn't get back to sleep for the rest of the night and had to go to work on Tuesday looking like a panda with the big dark circles around her eyes. She looked very funny.
Oh yes, I am evil. But I have a very cute face which makes me utterly forgiveable.
March 13th 2006 9:00 pm
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Lisy's mean.
I was perfectly happy, sound asleep, curled up in a cute little ball on her beanbag.
All of a sudden I find myself in Lisy's arms, being carried into the lounge! How rude! I'd never do that to her. OK, I couldn't do that to her, my entire body weight is about the same as the weight of Lisy's head (I know I'm only skinny, but Lisy's not very bright. Her head is quite light), but, that's not the point...
Something about "Er, well, you sleep about 18 of every 24 hours. You've been asleep *all* day. If I don't wake you up now, you're going to keep me awake all night."
So?
I'm awake now, but I still fully intend to spend the entire night walking all over her and dribbling on her. In fact, as punishment for waking me up just now I may dribble just that little bit more.
January 23rd 2006 6:30 pm
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It's been a couple of months since I moved to London now, and it's all been quite adventurous.
A couple of weeks after I moved here I got tricked into getting into my box so Lisy could take me to the vet. Not a friendly act. They shoved a thermometer up my bum. I don't wanna go back there any time soon... the indignity of it all.
For Christmas we went to Lisy's parents house for a few days. It was lots of fun. I got fed real turkey. These vegetarian owners who don't know how to cook real meat so only ever give me stuff out of a can. Pah. Lisy's parents house is *huge*. It was so much fun to run around in all that much space. When I decided to be calm and chilled out, I found the hugeness to be a bit overwhelming, so I tended to hang out in Lisy's bedroom. But, the space I had to run around in when I was in a silly mode was so worth it.
It snowed while we were there. All these people outside on sledges looked fun, so I decided to get in on the action... I decided to try skidding across the lounge on the TV guide. It was all fun until I crashed into the pile of wrapping paper and empty boxes left over from the present unwrapping.
I got some presents. But the wrapping paper filled with catnip that they came in was much more fun.
When we came back to London, things got back to normal pretty quickly. When we came back though, Lisy moved my litter tray into the bathroom. I don't know why - I quite liked going for a poo in the corner in the lounge. Especially when I timed it to coincide with Lisy eating. The look on her face would be priceless. So, yes, this litter move into the bathroom thing did not impress me. I miaowed in protest, lots. It didn't make any difference. Lisy wouldn't move it back. Oh well. I've gotten used to it now though.
The biggest bit of excitement since Christmas was last week when I found a mouse in the house! And I killed it! Lisy came home from shopping, dumped her shopping down in the hall and went into the lounge to take her coat off. When she turned around, I'd parked myself on the doormat, next to the shopping so she couldn't miss me playing with my new toy that I'd killed all by myself. Lisy started screaming, and I don't think it was excitement for me. She ran and phoned her mother. The utter wimp. You should've heard the screams I managed to get out of her when I started throwing it up in the air to play catch with it... though, if you were in NW1 at the time, you probably did hear.
In the end, after she shooed me away from the mouse with her mop, Lisy threw my new toy out of the back door using the Christmas card her parents bought her (she insists only because it was the most usefully shaped item around). It did take her a while to pluck up the courage to get close enough to the mouse to get it with the card. Useless human wimp, it's not like it could hurt her, I'd already taken care of it!
December 3rd 2005 11:37 pm
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It's been a week since I came to live with Lisy Babe.
I like it here. It's nice and warm, the sofa is comfy, Lisy loves giving me cuddles, and she's already trained to do my bidding.
Until I moved in, she always used to sit in the same spot on the sofa. That spot is mine now, ha! If Lisy sits there by mistake, she'll soon know about it. I have ways of making her move.
While Lisy is sweet and cuddly, she does sometimes shout at me. I don't know why... I'm only scratching. OK, so I'll be scratching at Lisy's bookcase, or her carpet. When she says my name in her "I'm not impressed" voice, she always says "that's what your scratch post is for." But, I don't like my scratch post. The bookcase and the carpet are much better.
I think Lisy wants to go to bed soon, she looks tired. I'll do what I've been doing every night. I'll wait until she's asleep, and, then, I'll sneak into bed next to her. That way I get a nice, comfy human bed too. The only thing is, I need to learn how to not fart in my sleep. The smell keeps waking Lisy up.
Night night.
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