Love is in the Air

We hardly ever get to write in our diaries these days because Mummy's so busy romancing the Dog Guy. Actually, he's not bad for a Dog Guy. I like to hang out with him when he's on the computer, same as I do with Mummy.
And I have a boyfriend, too, our little stray Romeo, Nugget! He's a handsome spotted tabby...*smitten sigh*....visit his page to see his handsome visage!

Hunting Season!

I got Mummy a big ol' rat on Thursday night, and I left it next to her gumboot just outside the front door so she could start the day in a happy frame of mind.
She seemed pleased, if the delighted "Eeewwweaarghgh" she uttered is anything to go by, so I got her another one and put it next to the same gumboot again so she would know just where to look the next morning.
I was priding myself on my hunting prowess, but then I found out that Barry next door has caught two rats and a mouse this week, so I need to beat his score. Orkney has caught another mouse, but we need to keep it up or Barry may edge ahead again. At the moment I'm resting up in readiness for a big night's hunting.

Tagged!

I've been tagged by my handsome buddy Felix to describe 5 things my human does that annoy me, which should be easy as she has an extensive repertoire.
1. She shoots me with the anti-Tilly device (a water pistol) every time I get up on the kitchen bench.
2. She walks around the house with her plate when she's eating salmon.
(Note from Mummy: I'm sure this isn't as annoying as Arrow following me around the house when I'm trying to eat salmon, but I'll let it pass)
3. She doesn't pay enough attention to me when she's on the phone.
4. She doesn't pay enough attention to me when she's on the computer.
5. She laughs at me when I make my chuckly noise.

My furmum Orkney has also been tagged, so she's going to consider whether she can come up with more annoying features Mummy has (should be easy, as I said) and see if she can tag some kitties for us.

I Broke My New Year's Resolution

I resolved not to hiss at my sisfur Bunty, and I broke it big-time tonight. Mummy had been gone all day because she just started a new job, and after we had eaten and gone outside for a bit I clambered onto her lap. She made me get off so she could let Bunty in, and then a very bad moment ensued as we both aimed for the coveted lap simultaneously. I hissed at growled at Bunty big-time, so she wisely decided to go out again. Naturally I then had to follow her to make sure she got the message, and I was growling at her and meowing to go out at the same time. This comes out as what Mummy refers to as my "chuckly noise". It sounds like a cross between Flipper the dolphin and a sheep and never fails to crack Mummy up, which is a huge affront to my dignity. I'm so offended I might just stay in the shed all night.

A Mighty Tussle

There's a reason why I'm the Chief Rodent Control Officer in this furmily, because I'm the best! While the others were mucking around with a couple of puny mice in the house, I was outside stalking big game. Mummy was sitting inside and heard a terrible banging and crashing from the roof. She rushed out and called my name, and I appeared a minute or so later going "Brrrrrrr" in a pleased tone. She found the reason why the next day, a big grey rat corpse in the garden. Guess rats don't land on their feet when you rough 'em up and toss them off the roof (snicker)

So not fair!

Mummy's had such success with the Anti-Tilly device, she's found a new use for it as an Anti-Cats on Kitchen Bench device. Unlike the spray bottle, she doesn't have to come into the kitchen to use it. If she looks up from the catputer to see one of us doing something naughty in the kitchen, she just picks up the water pistol and fires. Seriously, she can hit a marauding cat easily from twelve feet away. It's so Not Fair!

Take That, Tilly!

Mummy was at the local supermarket yesterday and she had a quick look in the specials trolley. You know, the miscellaneous items that they mark down just to get rid of them. Lo and behold, lying on the top and marked down to $1.99 was a water pistol. Exactly what she needed in the war against Tilly the terrible heeler next door! Now when Mummy goes outside she is armed and dangerous with her anti-Tilly device. She's already got in one good shot and Tilly scuttled off. Hasn't barked at Mummy since. MOL, MOL, MOL!

Macavity, Macavity, There's No-one Like Macavity

I have stepped up my nefarious criminal activities from crashing around the kitchen cupboards to masterminding a series of daring raids on the cat food cupboard. Previously Bunty and Orkney had assisted me, but even Orkney's iron nerve broke and I was left to carry out Operation Purina Raid on my own, which suited me just fine. The more accomplices you have, the more chance somefur will blab.
The cupboard has a busted hinge at the bottom of the left hand door. Although there is a childproof lock holding the doors shut, there is enough play in them to get my paw in between them and push things around until I topple over the Purina bag. Then I work at it with my claws until I create a hole and voila! The crunchies come spilling out of the bottom of the cupboard into my waiting jaws!
But in the most recent raid I forgot a cardinal rule, which is that when the human reaches the scene of crime, to avoid detection as the perpetrator it is vital to be elsewhere, like Macavity. Mummy got up the other day to find me sprawled right in front of the cupboard, surrounded by scattered crunchies. At first she thought I was dead, then she realised I'd just eaten myself insensible. When I came to, I knew that I would have to refine my modus operandi, especially as Mummy now decants all cat food IMMEDIATELY into the screw top container. Can anyfur tell me how I can grow an opposable thumb?

A Worthy Successor

Anyfur who reads my diary may recall that I had a very unhappy relationship with the previous DND (Dog Next Door), the evil Jack Russell, Tyson. Tyson is gone, moved on - but in his place comes a worthy successor, the equally Satanic red heeler, Tilly. Tyson at least used to wag his tail at Mummy. Not so Tilly. The moment she hears Mummy at the gate she comes tearing around the side of the neighbour's house with her hackles up, barking and growling furiously. (I should mention that our house sits in the middle of the two-house property where we live, so there is no chance that Mummy can actually avoid Tilly, because the foul beast has full access to the rest of the property).
I spent the whole day in my safe tree today because Tilly scared me this morning and I was too frightened to come back down before Mummy went to work. Boy, was I glad when dusk fell and Mummy's car came rolling down the driveway! I ran to the front door and cried to be let in.
Mummy has tried ignoring Tilly. She has tried being nice to Tilly. She has tried being aggressive to Tilly. Nothing has any effect, the dog seems to be an idiot. Gates are down, lights are flashing, but the train isn't coming. Her next plan is to get a big water pistol and let Tilly have it. MOL! I'll have a front row seat in my safe tree for this event!

The One-Cat Crime Wave Continues

I love my Mummy, as my motto says - and she's mine! All mine! No-one else is allowed to attract Mummy's attention, or sit on any of MY office chairs, like Orkney and Zephyr keep doing. I've had a few more squealy girly fights with Zephyr over this little issue (I'm not game to tackle Orkney). Yesterday I fronted up to Zephyr, yowling menacingly, with my mean face on and she completely stumped me by slobbering all over my head with her tongue, licky-licky-lick. Well I just couldn't beat the tar out of her after that, could I? Sisfurs!
I've been in and out about twenty times tonight checking the weather, which is absolutely dreadful. (Mummy uses sheets of A4 for mouse pads, because she can just throw them in the fire after I have walked muddy pawprints all over them, MOL.) I came in about fifteen minutes ago absolutely soaked in rain and mud right up to my stomach, and went to the litter box. But all the litter stuck to my wet legs so I had to jump out, shake it off and get back in, but still the litter stuck to my legs, so I had to jump out again, shake it off and - well, you get the picture. There's mud and kitty litter everywhere. Now I have to sit here and groom all my fur off again, which will mean ointment on my legs and a bucket on my head. Mummy is sighing and holding her head in her hands.