Super-Bog-Standard-Cat

My owners get very agitated if I wish to go out after dark, fearing that I will become a latchkey "Youf", hanging about on street corners, and only one step away from a Catty-ASBO. As a result I have a curfew, which I can manage to evade if I hide in the undergrowth when they call me in, and resist the temptation to be fooled by the rattling of my Whiskas tin or the opening of the fridge. Sometimes I am tempted, and inadvertently find myself locked in the house, watching from the kitchen window the antics of more wiley Kin, going about their night time activities, a series of glowing eyes and shadowy crouching feline figures skulking in the dark.

Maybe my owners do have a point - Catty Society Worldwide has degraded, with unplanned pregnancy rates rocketing. However, I have become very concerned by the proposed enforced sterilisation of all cats in Belgium and routine culling, that will effectively mean that Heinz 57 Variety Moggies like me, will die out! Even if our Yo-Yo-Knickers-Kin can have "One pregnancy every six months and 36 offspring in less than 16 months", that's no reason to allow only breeders and owners of "Siamese, Abyssinian and other special pedigrees" to be exempted from the new compulsory sterilisation regime. No offence to my Catty Brethren, Gilbert and Sullivan (two handsome pedigree friends of mine), but such genocide cannot be acceptable!?

Thankfully, there are some vocal dissenters to the proposed regime. "Pet owners will rebel and refuse to do it," agreed Marleen Meersseman, who helps to run a rescue service for stricken wild animals in the Flemish village of Nieuwkerke. "And this wouldn't be Belgium if people did not find a back door."

Hmmmm hmmmm - now I'm not what you'd call "experienced" in matters carnal and copulatory, and I don't wish to be crude, but even I, with my cursory knowledge of biology, know that reference to the "back door" is surely not going to ensure the survival of the Super-Bog-Standard-Moggy-Cat?! Just a thought?!

Jobs for the Cats

You will be familiar with the phrase "Jobs for the Boys"? As the Summer break ends and I see the world return to work, school or university, I have been reflecting that maybe I should contribute to the household purse by acquiring some useful employment?

It appears that my fellow kin are way ahead of me on this and have been joining the world of the workers for some time.

First, there is Iggy - the iPad Tester- having procured this much sought after post, he was assigned the role of testing whether there needed to be a "Paws App" - as a designated special needs group, Apple were rightly concerned that Catty-kin would find the iPad a more useful tool, than just being another warm place on which to take a nap! Iggy demonstrates that they need to redesign the screen surface to account for claw damage and pad-wear, and that he is a musical genius worthy of jamming with any of the jazz greats from Miles Davis to Dizzy Gillespie!

Then there is Calico Cat - the Printer Engineer (video 1) called in to solve the age old "stuck paper" problem, she demonstrates that when pressing buttons furiously, and turning the machine "off and on again" does not work, brute force and a thump of the paw will always do the job!

Next there is Marcus - the overly eager, yet inept archetypal Intern (video 2) - Keen as mustard to please, hoping that his "skills" will impress, but ultimately bodging even the most simplest task. His hapless "mentor" will have to ultimately redo everything his inept paws touched once he has gone back to college! Oh dear!

Moving on to Ginger - the nervous new Secretary/Office Assistant (video 3) - Her first "real" job, unsure of the systems and machines, she has been given a document that "Has to be in the post today, at all costs" and she has pressed the print button to produce not 1 copy but 100! She tried to rectify the fault without anyone noticing by pressing buttons, trying to hide the multitude of wasted copies that are spewing from the machine, but finally retreats to the corner, phased, beaten, embarrassed and surrounded by a veritable forest of paper!

Lastly, there are the Herd of 100 IKEA Cats- A London Store decided to "product test" by inviting a "herd" of motley Catty-Kin into their establishment out of opening hours, to see how they liked and used the ranges. They seemed surprised when "turf wars" broke out in soft furnishings between several Alpha Males, kittens got lost in the kitchen department and were later found asleep in the sinks, and one intrepid "Sherpa Tensing" Kin climbed the vertical display of Chairs (to Cat-Kin this is the equivalent of an indoor rock climbing wall!), got stuck between the two 20ft high displays, and had to be embarrassingly cut out! Genius!

As for me, I see myself in a more managerial/directorship role, but I understand to excel in those positions, you have to be a Fat Cat, and since I am not such a portly being, I will settle for being a taste-tester/product developer for Whiskas - mackerel flavoured cat-milk anyone?

The C-Atkins Diet

This week my male owner decided to begin a new regime of cycling to work as many days of the week as weather would permit. He is naturally athletic, but with a "go faster" gene that resulted last week in a "side swipe" at speed with a "telegraph-type" post (which he said "came from nowhere") - it seems he has discovered a previously unknown phenomenon of animated road "furniture"!. He hopes this week to replace his current bicycle with a super lightweight one-speed road model - he seems to have fooled my female owner with the premise that one speed means less "diversions" in terms of changing gears and taking his eyes off the road, when in fact my wiley catty eye has surmised that this just means that his one speed will now be "go even faster" - we have Accident & Emergency on one-paw-speed dial!

Almira Gulch in "The Wizard of Oz"

For many years my female owner has been seeking the "Holy Grail" - the exact balance of eating the food she loves with as little exercise as possible, that would allow for weight loss of the sort that previously sadly only prisoners of war would be able to attain.

This Holy Grail has escaped her thus far, but bless her, she keeps trying every exercise regime known to Man, hoping she will find the key to success. She continues to cycle around town on her antiquated "step through-sit-up-and-beg" bicycle (10 mile cycle, almost daily) looking like a cross between Miss Marple and Almira Gulch!

I find all this exercise fervour highly amusing - I sleep approximately 16 hours per day and yet maintain my lithe physique, with no need for such lowly exertions. I need no "new fangled" diet regimes to keep my sleek perfection. Cats have for Centuries been "following" the C-Atkins Diet - high protein, very little carbohydrate - it is nothing new - we were there first!

Running around like demented chickens seems crucial for the lesser beings that are dogs - in the wild, they live in packs who run around together all day. When domesticating them, humans used this failing by making them pull carts or sleds all day. Cats never did this and never will! Any self respecting Cat would no more pull a sled, than use the tradesman's entrance, that is the Cat-flap!

Even in our wilder history, we Cats only ever ran flat out to escape from a predator or more likely to catch our prey. For Cats it is all about intensity not duration - quality rather than quantity if you will. We Cats lie around all day plotting and planning, and then explode into action - the fast-twitch fibres (the main kind of muscles Cats have, which are much better at generating short bursts of strength or speed ) in my body mean that I am the Usain Bolt of the animal World, rather than the Haile Gebrselassie.

My owners try and engage me in inanities such as chasing a ball, or toy mouse on a string, but can be easily dissuaded from such embarrassments, by me merely lying down to nonchalantly paw at the toy, or haughtily watch their shenanigans, tip of my tail flicking - this means I am done, and so are they!

My body is a well-honed machine, that converts the food I eat into glucose, ready for that well-timed pounce to my food bowl, twice daily. When I move I am perfection personified - think sleek and fast - you envisage Jaguar (i.e. Cat) Cars - think slow and lumbering, you think Greyhound (i.e. Dog) Bus!

Now if you'll excuse me I need to limber up for my 100m sprint down the stairs to my food bowl - 9 seconds flat - eat you heart out Mr. Bolt!

Cool for Cats

My owners have expressed some concern that writing my Blog with six followers (Paws up to you all, my Peeps!) may lead to an exaggerated view of my own importance.

How ridiculous! I don't need my Blog to know that I am important! Cats ARE important! Every week there are stories about Cats from around the World proving that "The Cult of the Cat" is alive and well amongst all Societies.   

Cats are cool - it is official. The uber-trendy music magazine, NME recently featured an article on the "Most famous Cats in Rock" and band like Klaxons who feature their cat Orphee (the astronaut cat!) "Klaxon's Cat"; We are Scientists "We Are Scientists' Cat"  and Blink 182 "Blink 182 Cat" all feature my fellow Moggies on their album covers. Even the folk hero Billy Bragg features a cat (name unknown, left) who I swear is my Doppelganger! Many a mega rock star would sell their soul to be featured in the NME, and with effortless feline ease, there are my fellow kin gracing its pages!

However, some owners take Cat Cool to a cruel extreme. 

Personally the only piercings I can tolerate are those made by my claws into the supple leather of my owner's furniture (sooooo gratifying!). But it appears that a woman in the US (where else) is being prosecuted for piercing kittens with ear and neck rings and selling them online as "Gothic Cats". 

Apart from affecting their balance and causing infections, it does no kitten any favours to resemble a brain-dead-head-banging-Red-Hot-Chilli-Pepper-groupie! Rock 'n' Roll Dude! 

And then there is the strangeness of Cats as tourist attraction - meet the Taiwanese Tickle Cats.
Cool or creepy? There we have the tiny town inhabited by 200 people and about 400 apparently nymphomaniac Cats. They started with about 5 cats who obviously thought they were at a Sandals Resort for Cats and interbred, and now they have hundreds who have turned into a tourist attraction - people can buy feather tickling stick to "pet" the apparently friendly Taiwanese Kin, who seemingly bask in their new found glory! I still think it's a bit ....."icky".... and someone should check to see if they have webbed paws, with all that interbreeding!

I wish to be more than cool - I wish to be a Classic! A Cat of renown, and remembered for posterity.

This weekend my owners set off to cycle around London, on something they called the London Skyride? 15km using their own peddle power to traverse the centre of a car-free London with 80,000 other bi-ped-allists!

As I watched them peddle off from the comfort of my warm bed, I sent them with one goal - to photograph the (left) Edwin Landseer "Trafalgar Square" Lions, because Dear Follower I have a plan.

Apparently I have heard there is a Fourth Plinth in the Square, which they are constantly having trouble filling. Since there is already a precedent for Catty Kin in the Square, I am thinking of a bronzed stature of One, striking a thoughtful, regal pose, with the words;

"I BLOG, THEREFORE I AM" inscribed beneath. 

My argument being that I would seem an apt subject, since the NW corner (near where the said plinth is placed), has been the site of the King's Mews since the time of Edward I. 

QED!