Well it's been the best part of a week now gentle reader and I'm settling in quite nicely. I still haven't fully forgotten nor forgiven the way I was roughly handled to get me down here and it's going to take some time before I'm over that one let me tell you. But other than that I'm doing well. I have re-commandeered the bed and use it whenever I damn well please. In fact, I'd forgotten just how comfy it was. It's a good bit higher than the one at my caravan and therefore requires more agility on my behalf but that's not really a problem for a cat of my prowess. I've been back up on the roof a few times and have been enjoying teasing dogs on the other side of the towpath from there. The mooring is nothing to shout about and so far I haven't seen a single mouse although there are a couple of gobshite squirrels that seem to think they own the place. I shall sort them out in due course. What there also is though is quite a few other boats for me to clamber on and explore and I've given one or two of them a good going over already. They're not as good as my boat though of course.
Ange and the lummox are keeping the place warm (as they should) and I have had a good many tasty treats coming my way too. That's obviously an attempt to curry favour with me after what happened last Monday but I'm enjoying it none-the-less. The worst thing about it all really is that there is no mains electricity and so the engine has to be run every other day which of course disturbs my sleep during the the hours of daylight. Added to this there's the other annoyance of the alarm clock they've gone and bought. Every weekday morning at precisely five o'clock its beep beep beep bloody beep. Wakes me up with a start it does. At least that horrible noise signals that I'm about to have the bed all to myself though.
There are a couple of new features that have been added to my boat in my absence as well. Firstly there is a new wheelhouse with two very sexy looking catflaps which are befitting of a cat of my stature and social standing. I'm enjoying them immensely. Also there is a side hatch where there used to be a window. Apparently the humans put it there as an other means of escape in case of fire which is total bollocks in my opinion. They've sneaked it in so that they can feed the ducks and spend valuable time oohing and aahing at them. I'll tell you one thing my friends, in my eyes it's not for the ducks, it's for me. I shall be using it as an alternative means of entering and exiting the boat purely for my own amusement. Ergo - my boat, my side hatch! Not a lot else has changed though since I last saw the old place.
Overall, it's good to be back. Pixie Poo Poo is master of the canal boat Walrus yet again. And when I say master I mean it. Do you know what the lummox got given for a birthday present last year? A hat with the word 'captain' on it. Captain my arse! He couldn't captain a rubber ring in the swimming baths. Oafish great numpty that he is. There's only one captain on this boat and she's small, black, furry and gorgeous. I'll leave you to work that one out.
See you soon
PPP x
Monday, 30 January 2017
Tuesday, 24 January 2017
Wo-manhandled!!!
The outrage!!! The indignity!!! The assault on my personage!!! I've never been so f****ing livid in my life. I have been treated abominably and it shall not go unforgotten. Let me explain...
The humans have been busying themselves all week making preparations for us all to move back to my boat. All well and good I hear you say. But here's the problem. They had it in mind to move back on board on the Saturday afternoon but I didn't want to. I had plans for the evening as it happened and in any case, I thought to myself 'it's my boat, we'll move on when I'm ready and in due course. So I curled myself up on the bed and let them get on with packing for when that time should come. Imagine then my shock and surprise when the lummox came and lifted me off the bed. His gnarled, hairy great mitts seized me and before I knew what was going on I was carried into the front room. He did his best to be gentle which must have been difficult for such a ham-fisted ape of a man like him and he is prone to picking me up from time to time to marvel at my fur (understandable) and so I decided not to claw his beady eyes out on this occasion. In fact it wasn't until he got me into the front room that I realised what his underhanded intention really was. The pet carrier was on the table with the door open!!!
Oh he though he was being so clever trying to get me in there whilst cooing at me thinking that I was daft enough to allow such whimsy to work on me. Well, let me tell you this - I resisted the berk for all I was worth. I dug my claws into the table top and held on. Time and time again he tried to cajole me in but again and again I stood my ground. 'Who does he think he bloody well is?' I asked myself. Then to make matters worse Ange joined in and I had the pair of them trying to shoehorn me into that basket. And still I refused to yield. Then they tried a different tack. Ange picked me up and carried me outside. I thought she was going to do the decent thing and let me go so that I could go and simmer down as I was feeling pretty irate by this time. But no! Do you know what she did? She carried me into the car! THE CAR!!! I was incensed by now and I climbed all over the dashboard and steering wheel trying to find my way out again but to no avail. Then out of the rear window I saw Becky approaching with that monstrous great labrador in tow. Could things get any worse?
Fortunately by this time I think the humans had given up. They knew better than to carry on with their hopeless attempts to basket me and I was allowed out of the car. I stormed off in a magnificent huff with my tail rigidly in the air. The winner!
So that was Saturday. I eventually calmed down and after a while went back to bed until the evening when I had, as I have mentioned, plans. But then worse was to come. On Monday they brought in reinforcements in the form of Becky. And this is where the real indignity comes. The buggers locked my catflap so I couldn't get out and then Becky crept up behind me gripped me by the scruff of my beautiful neck, put her other hand on my lovely bottom and whilst I was still reeling from her temerity bundled me into the basket and locked the door. They had me trapped and I meowed my opinion on the matter as loud as I could. My cries fell on deaf ears and within a matter of seconds I was in the car again and we were off. And that was the last time I ever saw my caravan.
I meowed and I cried and I shat the basket for all I was worth but they just carried on. Ange did her best to placate me with soothing words but on this occasion her best simply wasn't good enough. The journey took about fifteen minutes and soon the door was opened again and I was released. I looked around. I was back, back on my boat. I stomped into the bedroom and ignored those two for the best part of an hour. Eventually though I came out, had something to eat and re-familiarised myself with the old place. And do you know what, it was good to be back. Lummoxy had lit a fire (something he actually is quite good at) and the place was cosy. But damn it all, at the end of the day I am Pixie Poo Poo and I won't be handled in such a way. It's going to take a lot of Dreamies, Salmon, Chicken etc etc to put this one right let me tell you. And as for that Becky, she just might find a dead mouse in her slipper come February. Watch this space...
PPP x
The humans have been busying themselves all week making preparations for us all to move back to my boat. All well and good I hear you say. But here's the problem. They had it in mind to move back on board on the Saturday afternoon but I didn't want to. I had plans for the evening as it happened and in any case, I thought to myself 'it's my boat, we'll move on when I'm ready and in due course. So I curled myself up on the bed and let them get on with packing for when that time should come. Imagine then my shock and surprise when the lummox came and lifted me off the bed. His gnarled, hairy great mitts seized me and before I knew what was going on I was carried into the front room. He did his best to be gentle which must have been difficult for such a ham-fisted ape of a man like him and he is prone to picking me up from time to time to marvel at my fur (understandable) and so I decided not to claw his beady eyes out on this occasion. In fact it wasn't until he got me into the front room that I realised what his underhanded intention really was. The pet carrier was on the table with the door open!!!
Oh he though he was being so clever trying to get me in there whilst cooing at me thinking that I was daft enough to allow such whimsy to work on me. Well, let me tell you this - I resisted the berk for all I was worth. I dug my claws into the table top and held on. Time and time again he tried to cajole me in but again and again I stood my ground. 'Who does he think he bloody well is?' I asked myself. Then to make matters worse Ange joined in and I had the pair of them trying to shoehorn me into that basket. And still I refused to yield. Then they tried a different tack. Ange picked me up and carried me outside. I thought she was going to do the decent thing and let me go so that I could go and simmer down as I was feeling pretty irate by this time. But no! Do you know what she did? She carried me into the car! THE CAR!!! I was incensed by now and I climbed all over the dashboard and steering wheel trying to find my way out again but to no avail. Then out of the rear window I saw Becky approaching with that monstrous great labrador in tow. Could things get any worse?
Fortunately by this time I think the humans had given up. They knew better than to carry on with their hopeless attempts to basket me and I was allowed out of the car. I stormed off in a magnificent huff with my tail rigidly in the air. The winner!
So that was Saturday. I eventually calmed down and after a while went back to bed until the evening when I had, as I have mentioned, plans. But then worse was to come. On Monday they brought in reinforcements in the form of Becky. And this is where the real indignity comes. The buggers locked my catflap so I couldn't get out and then Becky crept up behind me gripped me by the scruff of my beautiful neck, put her other hand on my lovely bottom and whilst I was still reeling from her temerity bundled me into the basket and locked the door. They had me trapped and I meowed my opinion on the matter as loud as I could. My cries fell on deaf ears and within a matter of seconds I was in the car again and we were off. And that was the last time I ever saw my caravan.
I meowed and I cried and I shat the basket for all I was worth but they just carried on. Ange did her best to placate me with soothing words but on this occasion her best simply wasn't good enough. The journey took about fifteen minutes and soon the door was opened again and I was released. I looked around. I was back, back on my boat. I stomped into the bedroom and ignored those two for the best part of an hour. Eventually though I came out, had something to eat and re-familiarised myself with the old place. And do you know what, it was good to be back. Lummoxy had lit a fire (something he actually is quite good at) and the place was cosy. But damn it all, at the end of the day I am Pixie Poo Poo and I won't be handled in such a way. It's going to take a lot of Dreamies, Salmon, Chicken etc etc to put this one right let me tell you. And as for that Becky, she just might find a dead mouse in her slipper come February. Watch this space...
PPP x
Monday, 16 January 2017
My Boat - An Update
It seems that things have progressed well vis-a-vis my boat being brought back to Shipley. Ange and the lummox with Becky, Erin and Jason have got it there to the new mooring and all is well. I understand there were one or two problems involved along the way but seeing as how I stayed at the caravan and slept all weekend then that was no concern of mine. In fact, if anything I had the harder time of it being without servants for two days. Apparently there was some problems with the locks and something about a tree in the canal. Yawn! Just bloody well get on with it I say and stop making out it was some great adventure. Humans! Have to to turn everything into a drama.
I'm not sure when I will move back onto my boat. That will of course be my decision and not the humans. After all, I'm quite content where I am for now. We'll see, we'll see. I'm also led to believe that the boat itself performed admirably and that it is in fine shape and ready for me to grace again with my person. I'm also of no doubt that whilst cruising my boat to it's new mooring that they emptied numerous bottles of beer, wine and spirits and behaved in a deplorable manner during the hours of darkness. It's what they do.
So watch this space gentle reader and I'll let you know when I'm back on board and ruler of the canal again. I mean this place is alright; warm and comfy etc, but my boat has more space and I'm the kind of cat who likes to stretch out when I'm relaxing after a hard day. But like I say, when I'm good and ready.
PPP x
I'm not sure when I will move back onto my boat. That will of course be my decision and not the humans. After all, I'm quite content where I am for now. We'll see, we'll see. I'm also led to believe that the boat itself performed admirably and that it is in fine shape and ready for me to grace again with my person. I'm also of no doubt that whilst cruising my boat to it's new mooring that they emptied numerous bottles of beer, wine and spirits and behaved in a deplorable manner during the hours of darkness. It's what they do.
So watch this space gentle reader and I'll let you know when I'm back on board and ruler of the canal again. I mean this place is alright; warm and comfy etc, but my boat has more space and I'm the kind of cat who likes to stretch out when I'm relaxing after a hard day. But like I say, when I'm good and ready.
PPP x
Friday, 6 January 2017
Working Class Lummox
Well first of all may I start with a big Happy New Year to all my feline followers and to any humans who are reading this - up yours! The new year has started really well for me. The lummox has begun his new job and that means that the two of them are out of bed a lot earlier than before so it's win-win for me. He started on Tuesday and got himself into yet another state of near mania beforehand as he had singularly failed to ascertain what time he was meant to start. What a shambles he is! He was up at ten to six on the first day making numerous phone calls to his new employer trying to find out what to do. The buffoon! Lack of forward planning my fat friend, lack of forward planning. Anyway, the fact remains that he got to work and that now the alarm goes off at five o'clock each weekday morning signalling that the bed is all mine. Ange usually gets up first whilst fatso lies in bed for an extra five or ten minutes, blowing off. Typical of the man I suppose. They're out of the caravan by about quarter to six and then it's all peace, quiet and slumber for me.
The lummox has been issued with a uniform of sorts consisting of black trousers, T shirt and fleece and steel toe capped boots. And with his hair in that ponytail that he now insists on wearing he looks like a cross between Action Man and some kind of flabby night club doorman. Apparently he spends his time (a paltry three hours a day) emptying bins at the university. I always knew he 'd go up in the world! The good thing is though that he gets paid on the 28th of each month so guess who is going to be lining up for a tin of salmon (Pacific red) that day. Yep! Yours truly. And by thunder there had better be one. Come to think of it, with the pair of them now in gainful employment there really shouldn't be any shortage of the stuff should there?
He comes bumbling back home at about ten o'clock and this is where things take a nosedive gentle reader. He feels so tired at having got up early and done a piffling bit of work that he feels the need to get back into bed for a few hours. Out-bloody-rageous!!! He comes sneaking back into the bedroom and crawls into the bed wherever he can get in. Of course being such a good natured soul I let this pass for the first few days but I soon grew tired of his snoring and tossing and turning at that hour and decided to take measures to prevent it. I now sleep as close to the very middle of the bed as I can which means he can't get in without disturbing me, something that he is (rightfully) mortally afraid of. And it worked! He's now taken to napping on the couch, so once again my ingenuity shines through. I overheard him telling Ange that he hopes that this need to sleep will pass soon and that he'll be used to the early start etc etc. Well, I don't know about that. So long as I don't get disturbed anymore and so long as his wages are spent in the right direction (mine!) then I suppose it will be all well and good.
PPP x
The lummox has been issued with a uniform of sorts consisting of black trousers, T shirt and fleece and steel toe capped boots. And with his hair in that ponytail that he now insists on wearing he looks like a cross between Action Man and some kind of flabby night club doorman. Apparently he spends his time (a paltry three hours a day) emptying bins at the university. I always knew he 'd go up in the world! The good thing is though that he gets paid on the 28th of each month so guess who is going to be lining up for a tin of salmon (Pacific red) that day. Yep! Yours truly. And by thunder there had better be one. Come to think of it, with the pair of them now in gainful employment there really shouldn't be any shortage of the stuff should there?
He comes bumbling back home at about ten o'clock and this is where things take a nosedive gentle reader. He feels so tired at having got up early and done a piffling bit of work that he feels the need to get back into bed for a few hours. Out-bloody-rageous!!! He comes sneaking back into the bedroom and crawls into the bed wherever he can get in. Of course being such a good natured soul I let this pass for the first few days but I soon grew tired of his snoring and tossing and turning at that hour and decided to take measures to prevent it. I now sleep as close to the very middle of the bed as I can which means he can't get in without disturbing me, something that he is (rightfully) mortally afraid of. And it worked! He's now taken to napping on the couch, so once again my ingenuity shines through. I overheard him telling Ange that he hopes that this need to sleep will pass soon and that he'll be used to the early start etc etc. Well, I don't know about that. So long as I don't get disturbed anymore and so long as his wages are spent in the right direction (mine!) then I suppose it will be all well and good.
PPP x
Wednesday, 28 December 2016
Igloo
I've been given a Christmas gift and to say that I am underwhelmed is an understatement. The humans have presented me with a cat igloo. Basically a soft, fluff covered thing that I am expected to sleep in. I took one brief look inside and then came straight out again. A cursory glance and little more was what I gave it. This of course has left them feeling most upset and even hurt to some degree. But I can't help that now can I? I never asked for a cat igloo and I can't think why they bought it for me. After all, I've got a king sized bed all to myself so why would I need an igloo to sleep in. I bet it cost just shy of a tenner as well. That could have bought ten packets of Dreamies instead. But no, they've blown it all on an igloo!
But here's the thing gentle reader. I probably will use the igloo when I'm good and ready to. And not just to make them happy. Let's not forget who is in charge around here. It's their job to please me not the other way round. So one day, when I feel like it I shall check the igloo out and maybe even have a kip in it. If I like what I see then I shall continue to use it. If I don't like it then they may as well put it in the bin. I'm sure there are plenty of cats out there sleeping in such things and if that's your bag then all well and good but Pixie Poo Poo is currently loving the bed and that's where I'll be sleeping for the foreseeable.
Cat igloo indeed!
PPP x
But here's the thing gentle reader. I probably will use the igloo when I'm good and ready to. And not just to make them happy. Let's not forget who is in charge around here. It's their job to please me not the other way round. So one day, when I feel like it I shall check the igloo out and maybe even have a kip in it. If I like what I see then I shall continue to use it. If I don't like it then they may as well put it in the bin. I'm sure there are plenty of cats out there sleeping in such things and if that's your bag then all well and good but Pixie Poo Poo is currently loving the bed and that's where I'll be sleeping for the foreseeable.
Cat igloo indeed!
PPP x
Monday, 19 December 2016
I'm Dreaming Of A Quiet Christmas
It's coming gentle reader and fellow cats everywhere. It's fast approaching and there's nothing any of us can do about it. I refer to Christmas of course. Already the front room is festooned with gifts of all shapes and sizes and there is much talk about food and drink amongst the humans. Yes, the annual gorge fest will be here before you know it. In fact, this time next week it'll be all over so that's something to look forward to isn't it? But before then I've got to put up with watching these two getting arsewiped on sherry and port wine, filling their intestines with food until bloated like a pair of methane filled hot air balloons and then listening to them expelling that gas into the confines of the caravan until I feel that I need to wash my fur.
And of course come Christmas Eve we'll have to sit through It's A Wonderful Life, again!!! We never get to see any of the films I want to see. Why can't we watch Ben Purr or Meow, Myself and Irene or Star Paws? (see what I did there?) Oh no, we have to watch that schmaltzy old guff so that those two can get all misty eyed and gurn at each other. Well balls to all that. They can watch their bloody film. I know where I'll be - firmly tucked up in bed. In fact, that's where I'll be for the bulk of the entire festive period. Especially on Christmas day when they're all coming over to my caravan for dinner! No doubt that great berk of a hound will be here as well.
But I shouldn't complain too much. I'll have the bed to myself quickly as the humans will be up early to tear open the gifts that they spent so much time carefully wrapping. Honestly it's like watching a pair of five year olds. And why go to all that trouble covering everything in paper and sellotape just to rip it into tiny pieces again a few days later. I never have understood that one. Still, there had better be something nice in there for me or I shall give them the cold shoulder like never before. And I'll have my gift when I'm good and ready for it. Not like that time a few years ago when they tore everything open on Christmas Eve like a pair of ravenous wolves in a chicken coop and then had nothing to open in the morning. Mind you they were full of that funny looking Bailey's stuff so that's their excuse. Pfft!
So anyway, I've got me a plan and that plan is to sleep in the (darkened) bedroom until it's all over and try and get some much needed peace and quiet. And woe betide any of them if I get disturbed. I'm dreaming of a quiet Christmas and I'm bally well going to get one don't you worry.
PPP x
And of course come Christmas Eve we'll have to sit through It's A Wonderful Life, again!!! We never get to see any of the films I want to see. Why can't we watch Ben Purr or Meow, Myself and Irene or Star Paws? (see what I did there?) Oh no, we have to watch that schmaltzy old guff so that those two can get all misty eyed and gurn at each other. Well balls to all that. They can watch their bloody film. I know where I'll be - firmly tucked up in bed. In fact, that's where I'll be for the bulk of the entire festive period. Especially on Christmas day when they're all coming over to my caravan for dinner! No doubt that great berk of a hound will be here as well.
But I shouldn't complain too much. I'll have the bed to myself quickly as the humans will be up early to tear open the gifts that they spent so much time carefully wrapping. Honestly it's like watching a pair of five year olds. And why go to all that trouble covering everything in paper and sellotape just to rip it into tiny pieces again a few days later. I never have understood that one. Still, there had better be something nice in there for me or I shall give them the cold shoulder like never before. And I'll have my gift when I'm good and ready for it. Not like that time a few years ago when they tore everything open on Christmas Eve like a pair of ravenous wolves in a chicken coop and then had nothing to open in the morning. Mind you they were full of that funny looking Bailey's stuff so that's their excuse. Pfft!
So anyway, I've got me a plan and that plan is to sleep in the (darkened) bedroom until it's all over and try and get some much needed peace and quiet. And woe betide any of them if I get disturbed. I'm dreaming of a quiet Christmas and I'm bally well going to get one don't you worry.
PPP x
Monday, 12 December 2016
Bladdered!
That scouse hippie came over at the weekend. Randy or Roddy or whatever his name is. Anyway, he arrived with a supply of strong drink for the humans to consume. This only added to the strong drink that Ange and the lummox had already purchased. To put it bluntly they weren't short of the stuff. Naturally they then spent Saturday night pouring it down their necks until they were all thoroughly inebriated. The lummox was virtually insensible by the end of the night and it was frankly atrocious and embarrassing to see. And Ange ought to know better than that too. She should remain vigilant to my needs at all times. How can she feed me when she's off her head on plonk? I blame the hippie. He turns up out of the blue and before you know it my servants are arseholed. Unacceptable or what?
As you would expect they were all subdued and fragile the next day. The pair of them didn't get out of the bed until half ten which, as you know, isn't allowed. And the hippie lay on the couch until then, snoring at both ends. Honestly it was hard to tell which end was making the most noise. And then they cooked and ate sausages like a bunch of gannets and didn't save any for me. I was pretty disgusted at their gluttonous greed let me tell you. Later in the day the hippie attempted to stroke me, obviously in a vain attempt to curry my favour. It didn't work and I did my level best to ignore them all until he had gone home. I took pity on Ange about 7pm and made a big fuss of her because she had made a bit more of an effort to keep me in the manner to which I am accustomed but I gave the lummox the cold shoulder as all he had done all day was to sit on his vast arse and drink coffee. Worse than useless at times that one is.
They both then decided that they needed an early night. And I let them gentle reader. I let them sleep some more. What a caring and magnificent cat I am. They'll probably do it all again at some point over Christmas and then spend the next day feeling sorry for themselves once more. Well I won't feel sorry for them. I shall treat their behaviour with the contempt it deserves until such times they are in a fit state to care for me properly.
PPP x
As you would expect they were all subdued and fragile the next day. The pair of them didn't get out of the bed until half ten which, as you know, isn't allowed. And the hippie lay on the couch until then, snoring at both ends. Honestly it was hard to tell which end was making the most noise. And then they cooked and ate sausages like a bunch of gannets and didn't save any for me. I was pretty disgusted at their gluttonous greed let me tell you. Later in the day the hippie attempted to stroke me, obviously in a vain attempt to curry my favour. It didn't work and I did my level best to ignore them all until he had gone home. I took pity on Ange about 7pm and made a big fuss of her because she had made a bit more of an effort to keep me in the manner to which I am accustomed but I gave the lummox the cold shoulder as all he had done all day was to sit on his vast arse and drink coffee. Worse than useless at times that one is.
They both then decided that they needed an early night. And I let them gentle reader. I let them sleep some more. What a caring and magnificent cat I am. They'll probably do it all again at some point over Christmas and then spend the next day feeling sorry for themselves once more. Well I won't feel sorry for them. I shall treat their behaviour with the contempt it deserves until such times they are in a fit state to care for me properly.
PPP x
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