A New Beast

There I was minding my own business, reading the latest copy of Good Mouse-keeping magazine. A couple of good articles this month too. One on combatting the effects the Meni-paws and another on soft fur-nishings and the best way to scratch them. I was enjoying myself, just relaxing and cat-ching up (see what I did there) with my reading. When all of a sudden I heard the most awful bloody commotion coming from downstairs. A sort of high pitched 'yipping' sound is probably the best way I can describe it. At first I tried to ignore it thinking that the lummox had got himself trapped in his flies or something, but it went on and on to the point of distraction until finally I could stand it no longer and I went to investigate what on earth was going on.

I padded down the stairs as silently as possible and stopped just before the bottom. My nose instantly alerting me to the presence of the blonde berk and his over-active tail. But there was something else abroad in the air and I couldn't quite work out what that smell was. It was similar to the berk but not quite. 'Sod it' I thought, 'I'm going in' and I nimbly leaped into the living room. Imagine my surprise when I came face-to-face with an unknown creature that I'd never seen before. At first I thought it was some kind of monster or perhaps a demon from the bowels of Hades or maybe the local zoo was missing something. It was brown and furry and had ears like an elephant despite being quite small in stature. I wasn't going to take any chances though and I turned and scampered back upstairs.

Since then, I have discovered that this unknown thing is, in fact, a spaniel puppy. A yipping, biting, cavorting spaniel puppy that belongs to Erin, of all people. Huh! I'm surprised at her, bringing that beast into my house. It's bad enough having one dog about the place without a puppy tearing around like a whirling Dervish. Honestly, you'd think people would have more respect for me than that. I mean, I wouldn't mind so much but it evacuates itself on the floor and that's plain unhygienic, especially in areas where my food is prepared. As you can guess, I'm not best pleased and Ange and blubberboy had best watch their step after allowing this to happen.

Stay tuned for further developments.

PPP x

Chick, Chick, Chick, Chick, Chicken!!!

You'll no doubt be alarmed, gentle reader, to learn that I have of late been a little poorly. Relieved also to know that I am now feeling much better, thank you. I'm not sure what the problem was, I've been listless, liverish and off my food. And fair play to the humans, they have tried plenty of different comestibles for me to attempt but I just wasn't eating and I actually lost a little bit of weight. Not that I needed to of course, as you can tell from my photo, but I suppose it all helps to keep me svelte. They tried tuna, salmon (fillet), ham (finest Wiltshire naturally), topside of beef and a wide and extensive variety of sachet cat food. And I turned my nose up at pretty much all of it. That's how poorly I felt. Of course, being a stoic individual I refused to visit that vet chappie though.

Then one night, the lummox decided he was going to make one of those curry things with which he stinks the whole house down with (and I'm talking about after he's eaten it) for him and Ange. Well, it turned out that he bought one too many chicken breasts and between them they managed to reach the conclusion that perhaps they should bake it for me. Well duh! Obviously! And so baked it was and once allowed to cool Ange cut it into bite sized pieces and presented it to me.

My word! I wolfed it down. Every single mouthful and licked my lips for a long while after. They both seemed very pleased with themselves and I was also a little grateful and showed this by waking Ange up at four in the morning for a stroking session. Anyway, the next day the lummox was dispatched to the local butcher shop to procure me another chicken breast which was likewise baked and presented. I gathered from their conversation though that this one was in fact what's known as free-range and corn fed. I'm not sure what all that meant but it tasted absolutely delicious and you can probably guess where I'm going with this. That's right, I now insist on all my chicken dinners to be free-range and corn fed. Apparently it's more expensive than the other sort but it tastes better, I deserve it and that's the end of the matter as far as I'm concerned.

PPP x

The Importance Of Being Pixie

Buggered off they have! Gone off for a jolly along the canal in that little toy boat of theirs and left me behind. But do you know what? Sod the pair of them. Do I care? Not one jot! They can stay out for as long as they want for all I bloody well mind. You see, I am Pixie! A determined, capable and self-caring cat. I don't need them to fuss and fret over me constantly. I'm aloof when I want to be and sociable when I want to be. It's all on my terms. And any cat worth his or her salt knows that. And it's an important thing for cats to learn, at an early age.

Besides which they've left a servant for me to cater for my mealtimes That Steve fellow who was here last October when they cleared off to Ireland. Nice enough chap although he's forever got a camera in my face (understandable) but he knows his place in the pecking order and that's what it's all about at the end of the day. He knows that I am Pixie Poo Poo - internet sensation, with a horde of devoted followers and he respects that. Plus, he is in the habit of buying me ham so that gets the old seal of approval from me.

As for those other two, well I just hope Ange can survive a week in a 9' by 6' space with Captain Flatulence constantly letting off minute-by-minute. My God, the mere thought of it is making me feel dirty to the point where I might actually have a wash. So no, I'm not bothered. I am Pixie and I'll do my own thing. And that gentle reader is important to me.

PPP x