Good morning, human staff member!Chuffin flower power

What?  Me?  Drinking out of your flower vase?  No, you must be quite mistaken.  I was just admiring the scent, whilst rearranging the flowers for you before you got up.

The flowers on the floor? No, that wasn’t anything to do with me.  You’re just not very adept at flower arranging, are you?

Yes, the water level in the vase does go down quickly.  Isn’t it amazing how much water these flowers need?  Very thirsty, these flowers.

Fur in the flower water?  Hmmm, yes there is.  Mind you, there’s fur in all manner of places in this house.  You should clean more often.

Why am I on the windowsill you ask?  Well somebody has to protect the house whilst you staff members are lazing in bed.  I mean, anyone could come and steal these flowers.  Where would we be then?

Thirsty?  Me?  Why would I be thirsty?

Anyway, now that you’re finally awake you can fill my food bowl.  You’ve neglected to feed me all night.  I might pass out soon through starvation.




Oh, and I’d put some more water in the flower vase too.
For some reason it looks empty.


Top 10 Tips – How to be a Proper Chuffin Cat


Close up!1 Compose your own haka, then perform it to all the garden birds on a daily basis through the kitchen window.

2 Flirt with the milkman. Not only does he loudly praise your singing talents, but he keeps similar hours to you too. Plus he has free milk.

3 Survey the clean, fresh water in your drinking bowl regularly, but never drink from it. Instead, venture outside to lap from the most stagnant puddle that ever existed. Failing that, why not take a nice, long slurp from your human’s favourite flower vase. Just pull the flowers out with your teeth and scatter them across the floor if they get in your way.

4 Why use your cat flap when there’s a perfectly good patio door just 3 feet away? Not to mention the army of human staff willing to let you in on an hourly basis, day or night, if you sing loudly enough.

5 Watch as your human staff member brings you a new stuffed toy. Watch as they place it near you. Watch their excited face as they move the toy repeatedly from left to right and back again. Watch the toy very carefully. Then pounce viciously on the hand holding the toy.


6 It is important to announce your arrival in a very loud voice each time you enter the house, particularly during the middle of the night.

Sherbet fetish7 Whilst all conversations with your human should end at your food bowl, this in no way obligates you to eat out of that bowl. In fact, the tastiest food can be found on a human’s plate. Claws are ideal for hooking a tasty morsel. Just don’t get caught, as humans aren’t very good at sharing.  Sherbet fountains should never be shared; wrestle them from your human at every opportunity.

8 Fur balls are no laughing matter and all throwing up, even if you are outside, should be undertaken indoors – preferably on a clean, pale carpet, the tassels of a rug or on a doormat with long bristles. Throwing up is an art in itself, practised by performing a reverse caterpillar movement, loudly and repeatedly. Shake your head at the end for a maximum splatter effect. It is then imperative to vacate the house at breakneck speed and deny all knowledge of any involvement in the entire affair. Practice your look of disdain to use in such scenarios.

Perfect sleeping position9 There are many marvellous places to rest, but there really is only one position in which to sleep: on your back with all 4 feet in the air. Splendid sleep locations include on clean laundry and also on dirty laundry, particularly if it is in a laundry bin – this has the added bonus of providing you with a hideout from which to ambush your human on their midnight trip to the bathroom. Alternatively what about sleeping on the back of an armchair, resting your feet on a human’s head.

Smug face


10 The flat roof of a building will make an excellent litter tray, particularly if it is covered with gravel. The joy at squeezing out a turd whilst eyeing up the birds is completely unrivalled.

Kidney Chaos


I hate hospitals.  I am the world’s worst patient.  It’s not that I’m squeamish – I can handle blood and guts, but only if they belong to somebody else.  My doctor has diagnosed me with significant ‘white coat syndrome’.  By that, I assume he doesn’t mean that there’s a significant risk that the men in white coats will be here to cart me away.  No, I see a white coat and my instinct is to run as far as possible in the opposite direction.  Probably straight into the path of an oncoming truck, knowing me.

So I had to go for a kidney scan.  The last one didn’t go too well.  The letter sent from the hospital clearly stated to “drink 2 litres of water at least 2 hours before your appointment time”.  It should have added on the end “if you have a bladder like that of an elephant”.  I duly complied, then wished I hadn’t.

The road leading to the hospital was littered with speed bumps, randomly scattered at various heights to ensure that each one caught you and your exceedingly full bladder completely by surprise.

003Upon arrival at the hospital, I had to sit in the ultrasound department along with a queue of other full-bladdered people.  In a row, outside the toilet.  Seriously – who planned that?  It was like some form of cruel torture, our eyes bulging as we scanned the toilet door, bladders fit to burst.  Yet nobody moved.  What amazing willpower we had; either that or we were all terrified of the nurse marching up and down the corridor, clipboard in hand ready to slap anybody who stepped over the toilet threshold.

After what seemed like an eternity, my name was called and I staggered behind the nurse as she led me into a darkened room.  It was in that room that I discovered something about myself: I have a new ticklish spot.  Well 2 to be precise, one on each side of my waist which just happen to be exactly where the radiographer needed to prod me to scan each kidney.  Bingo!  Each time the poor man thrust the transducer probe into my side, my leg shot up uncontrollably, my knee connecting with his body on several occasions.  I didn’t realise that being a radiographer was such a dangerous occupation.  Neither did he, judging by the lack of humour he exhibited.  I lost count of the amount of times he barked at me to “please try and keep still!”  I was giggling too much – no mean feat with an exceedingly full bladder. By the end of the scan, I wasn’t the only one staggering out of the darkened room, although I was the only one with a smirk on my face.

Then it was decided that I needed a repeat scan.  Deep joy.  Proud as I was of my immense bladder control at the last scan, I decided to go for the more sensible option and drink less beforehand.  Joining the queue by-the-toilet-but-not-FOR-the-toilet, was less painful.  In fact I almost felt a little smug that my bladder wasn’t as pin-poppingly full as those of the other cross-legged people waiting.

As I entered the consultation room, I noticed that it was a different radiographer: a pleasant young man who seemed to be pressing his palms against the walls in the corner of the room.  Clearly news of my killer karate kick action had spread.

He approached me warily with the words, “This might hurt a little.”  Huh?

He placed the probe not on the side of my waist, but on my lower rib.  Then he pressed down. Hard.  As I winced, he said, “I’m sorry, it will be uncomfortable.”  Of course it was uncomfortable! He might as well have grabbed a large mallet and smashed my lower ribs to smithereens – there, that would have given him a perfect view of my kidney!  Alternatively I could have given him a pair of drumsticks and he could have serenaded me with a tune of ‘nick nack paddywack’ on my ribcage.

The scan didn’t take long.  Maybe that was due to my furrowed brow and clenched teeth.  Who knows?  “Well,” he said with a very big smile, “that all looks perfectly normal!”  We breathed a collective sigh of relief: me that I had the all clear; him that he could put away the armour plating and never see me again.  Well not for another year anyway.

So what did I learn from this little episode?

  • 002Speed bumps and full bladders don’t mix
  • I can get quite violent when I’m being tickled
  • Radiographers aren’t generally into kick boxing
  • Sometimes it’s necessary to break a rib or 2 to check if a patient’s kidneys are healthy


Oh, and a final note to self: when using the ladies’ toilets after having crossed your legs for a couple of hours, don’t choose the cubicle next to the hand dryer.  No matter how desperate you are to empty your bladder, it’s highly embarrassing when someone dries their hands, and the rush of air blows under the cubicle door and wafts your frock up over your head.