Raining cats but not dogs

It's raining today, looks really nasty out there. I'm glad I'm wrapped up nice and warm by the fire. Liberty, equality and caloricity are magical words.

You scratch mine and I'll scratch your eyes out

The sooner she realises this is my house the sooner we'll get along. Full marks for trying but it doesn't always go my way. I really love that old Victorian chair that her grandfather left her. Such a plump cushion to sit on, but best of all the antique mahogany legs that I love to sharpen my claws on. I know she hates it, but I hate that stupid scratching post. Why you may ask, if I know it annoys her, do I continue to cause dissatisfaction by my continual sharpening? To have good claws, a cat must always be at war. Or near enough.

Rules of engagement

Take time to deliberate, but when the time for action has arrived, stop thinking and go. Out of the window onto the gravel path. Along the lawn, using the marigolds as cover. To the foot of the fence, pausing for the best attempt. Then like the coiled panther onto the fence post. Quickly descending into the neighbours garden and again taking cover behind an apple tree. The prize within reach causes me to salivate in anticipation. Victory is close at hand.

But like some cannonball from my past blocking the sun, I take too long to recognise the inevitable. Hurtling towards me at great velocity the neighbour's Wellington boot. Damn that Wellington.

Gone fishing

Where's the sport? I absolutely hate the idea of it. It's just cruel; plain and simple. I mean if you put it there, surely you understand I will do something about it. I'm not going to sit on my fluffy backside with a smile on my face am I!

Comical times

My owner is odd. He spends so much time looking after me if only I could speak. My bed is littered with comics. We live and die in the midst of marvels. If only he knew.

It's a cat's life

Being a cat is easy. Everything I've wanted in this life or the last given to me on a plate. Of course my needs are a lot simpler these days, no need to extend the empire further than this postcode rather than Europe, but nevertheless what a life. Better live a King, than a Prince.

Supplies

A cat marches on his stomach, and that's as true now as it was hundreds of years ago. So why do I only get one small bowl of food every morning, albeit with some very delicious fishy bits? What does a cat have to do? Invade Russia?

Napoleon is sleeping

British bulldog

We have new neighbours today, a new family, 2.4 children, two cars, and a dog. Merde.

Vets

It starts with a bribe. A nice piece of fish or chicken, so succulent, so irresistible. But it's bait. Poisoned. For it lies within the cage. As the gates closed behind me the sickness in my stomach fully overwhelming as I felt myself rise from the ground, carried dispassionately to the car.

These regular visitations to Helena the veterinary surgeon, oh how how hate the surgeons! But as I have always said, God is on the side with the best artillery, or in this case claws.

Budgie

I spent two hours stalking a budgie today. Prissy little blue bird. Tweet tweet in my tummy. Victory belongs to the most persevering.

My name is Napoleon

My name is Napoleon and I'm the reincarnation of Monsieur Bonaparte. Well why not.