Treated Like Shite

I have been treated abominably gentle reader. That’s the only word for it – abominably. It’s been the bank holiday weekend and you would have thought that I should have been pampered and enjoyed some peace. But no! Here’s what happened.

Friday night, the humans bugger off and leave me. All well and good as that means that I have the boat to myself. However, that also meant that there was no-one to feed me in the morning so I had no breakfast until they rolled home in the afternoon. Great! I thought. Food at last. But there was a massive down side in the shape of that feckin’ Labrador who they had brought down with them. Barking and yelping and generally getting on my nerves again. You see, Becky and Jason had gone away for the weekend and so we had to have that pillock on the boat. They took him home about midday on the Sunday much to my relief and I expected them to return within the hour and comfort me for my distress that he had caused. But that didn’t happen. They stayed up at Becky’s and got out of their minds on red wine. Probably cheap muck as well. Chateau de Bingley. Absolutely arseholed they were by all accounts and in a state of dishevelment when they did eventually return on the Monday morning where again, I was waiting for my breakfast.

Utter shite. Complete and utter shite. That’s no way for any cat to be treated let alone Pixie Poo Poo. Oh sure, food was left out for me when they went but what the bloody hell was I supposed to do when that was all gone. And as for that sodding four legged barking machine being here again and ruining my weekend, well the least said the better. So bugger the lot of them I thought and I have remained aloof and cool towards them since. I’ve never known such contempt and it shall be long remembered, trust me on that one.

PPP x 

Mexican Standoff

You would have been proud of me today gentle reader. I stood my ground. By God I did! For a while now there’s been another cat trying to claim the mooring as his own. I don’t mean that black and white fairy that I saw off last month, he’s hasn’t dared show his face again. No, there’s this other creature skulking about. A long furred, hulking great brute of a thing. Now, as you know, I am a rather petite little cat that you wouldn’t expect to get involved in too much roughness but that’s where you’d be wrong my friends. If my brother taught me nothing else, he taught me how to stick up for myself and I certainly do.

So there I was this morning taking a stroll down the mooring when all of a sudden furry bollocks appears out of the bushes and tries to intimidate me. Huh! If he thought for one minute that Pixie Poo Poo was going to turn tail and run then he was mistaken. Despite him being twice my size I stood my ground and growled for all I was worth. He growled too and soon it became a contest to see who could growl the loudest and longest and I was in no mood to back down. But, just as I was starting to get the upper paw the lummox came bounding up the stairs and his sudden appearance startled my opponent and he ran away.

Ooh, I was cross with lummox and gave him the glaring of a lifetime. I was on the verge of winning the standoff and he spoiled it. Apparently he had heard the growling contest and had come up to see what was happening. Well, I’ve two things to say to that. 1) Mind your own business. 2) Just let cats be cats without interfering. So now I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the end of the matter and it remains to be seen if that furry thing will return. But if he does I’ll be ready for him. This mooring ain’t big enough for the both of us.

PPP x

Ange's Birthday

It’s Ange’s birthday today. I won’t reveal her age but it’s somewhere between 56 and 58, I’ll leave you to work on that one. Anyway, I’d like to wish her many happy returns. Of course, when I say that, I mean I wish that she would make many returns to the shop to get food to make me happy. Hah!

On the subject of presents I thought I would keep it simple and therefore have got her nothing. And why shouldn’t I? Every gift I’ve ever presented to either of that pair has gone unappreciated. It’s true. Mice, voles, shrews, birds, you name it, I’ve given them some lovely gifts over the years and not one of them have they kept or put on the sideboard to look at. So bugger it, I’ve got her sod all.

The lummox has bought her some presents though including a litre bottle of Irish cream liqueur. That means that the weekend will be given over to revelry and bawdy behaviour. Well stuff that, I’ll have no part in it and will remain aloft from their sozzled state. Mind you birthdays are only once a year so I’ll let it pass. It will be mine in October and you can rest assured it will be a far more dignified affair all round.

PPP x

Rooftop Drama

Regular readers of this and my previous blog (Pixie’s Diary) will know that one of my favourite pastimes is spending time up on the roof of my boat. It’s especially enjoyable when the sun is shining and I can roll about to my hearts content on the warm steel and feel all scrummy and nice. Except, that at the moment, there’s a problem. You see the humans, being so inept, have moored my boat under a lot of trees. ‘What’s wrong with that Pixie?’ I hear you ask. Well I’ll tell you. There’s plenty wrong with it. In a nutshell it means that my roof is constantly coated in detritus of all manner. There’s twigs, blossom, leaves, berries, sap… the list could go on. How can I possibly roll around with all that lot up there? But the worst of it is the blasted, bloody pigeons that have deemed to make their home in said trees (you can guess where this is going can’t you?). Yes gentle reader, the dirty bastards poo all over my roof. It’s everywhere! You can’t move up there for pigeon shit! And I’m not prepared to put up with it much longer.

However…

I overheard Ange telling the lummox that she’s going to get up there tomorrow and clean it. About bloody time too if you ask me, and what’s that portly oaf going to be doing as well? He needs to get his fat arse in gear and get up there to do his bit too. Honestly, you’d think they had nothing better to do with their time. They spend their weekends sleeping or gadding about or pissing it up and all the while I can’t go onto my roof for fear of sullying my gorgeous pads with pigeon feces. I just hope they crack on and do a decent job of it so that I can crack on and enjoy myself. Anyway, I’ve said my piece now and Ange sounds determined so I’ll just wait and see if she comes good and does it. And as for those pigeons, if they get close enough…

PPP x