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

Safety First

It was an important day today gentle reader. Today was boat safety inspection time. Yes, my boat was to be inspected to make sure that it was safe for me. This man comes along apparently and checks it all over. Presumably things like making sure the gunwales aren't too slippery for me and the cat flap is swinging correctly and my feeding station is properly cleaned. Stuff like that. Well, that's what I thought at any rate. To be purrfectly honest with you I slept through the whole thing and only woke up and showed myself as the man was finishing.

Imagine then my surprise to discover that the beastly chap had failed my boat. By thunder I was outraged. And it turned out that he wasn't checking all those things at all. No, he was more interested in battery terminals and gas hoses whatever they are. In fact there was quite a list of jobs that needed doing to get the place up to scratch. Which led to my next question. Just what the bloody hell is the lummox pissing about at? He's at home most of the day for crying out loud. He could have had all those jobs done months ago. But oh no, he just comes rolling home from work and sits listening to music or tapping away into that laptop of his in the vainglorious belief that he could be some kind of writer. Hah! He struggles to write the bloody shopping list never mind literature.

Anyway, the humans have now got a list of jobs to do to get the place right and they had better crack on with it. I understand that they're all trifling little jobs that even he should be able to manage without too much trouble despite being a ham-fisted, sausage-fingered brute of a man. My safety is paramount and failure to make certainty of it is frankly unacceptable.

PPP x

A Thick Ear

He's been back again! That black and white interloper who's got the hots for me. There I was today sunning myself in the wheelhouse when all of a sudden he rolls up and starts poncing up and down my mooring. Posing and prancing about like some kind of Victorian dandy-prat. Well, I gave him fair warning. He can't say that I didn't give him fair warning. I growled at him good and hard. The growling of a lifetime I gave him. But still he persisted in making eyes at me and swanning about like he owned the place. So I thought to myself - 'There's only one way to deal with this blighter!' - and I launched myself at him with all the pace and power I could muster. He didn't run at first as maybe he thought that I had succumbed to his charms and was making a B line for him. Hah! As if? No gentle reader, I caught him completely unawares and before he knew what was happening I socked him one with my right paw.

The shock on his face was obvious as my paw connected with his ear and he leapt into the air with fright and the sudden realisation that his amorous advances had been most keenly rejected. His tail dropped between his legs and he turned and bolted away as fast as he could. I felt vindicated and rather chuffed with myself. But then Ange rather spoiled the moment by coming out and telling me that I shouldn't have done it and that I should share my moorings with other cats. Oh dear, oh dear. I thought she knew me better than that. And oh my word, if my brother had been here that black and white nancy would have gotten a lot more than a thick ear I can tell you. He'd have got a bloody good hiding!

So now it remains to be seen wether or not he will return after that. I couldn't have made it more obvious that I don't want him hanging around the place like a bad stench, could I? And if he does show up again I'll lamp him on the other side and see how he likes that.

PPP x

On The Hunt

I got me a mouse this morning my furry, feline friends. A fine, fat fieldmouse. The first I've had since we got here. Naturally it took all my cunning and dexterity to hunt the beast down but I got him in the end. Gave him the mauling of a lifetime I did. Then I took it onto my boat to show the lummox what I'd done expecting him to be glowing with pride and he just said I was naughty and that he was going to tell Ange about it. Ooh, I'm so scared. Yeah whatever. Anyway I left it on the kitchen floor as you do hoping to come back and poke it with my paw later after I'd had a kip but lummoxy picked it up and threw it into the canal. Prick! If he thinks that's going to deter me from hunting he's desperately wrong. He couldn't be more wrong in fact. Seriously, if that's what he thinks he's as wrong as velvet loon pants with twenty inch flares (people born before 1970 will know what I mean).

Anyway, I think I've got my eye in (and my claws) now and shall get out there again and give those pesky rodents a bloody good seeing to. I'll show them who's boss. I'll teach them not to scamper around with their beady little eyes and twitching noses. Yes my Pixie followers, there's a gonna be some huntin' going on around these parts. Just you wait and see.

PPP x