Teeth and Fluffy Trousers

Standard

IMG_5635

Today I had an argument with the chuffin cat.  It wasn’t a pleasant experience. I have the scars to prove it.  That’s the last time I try to wrestle a piece of holly from her armpit. Until next week that is, when I’ll have to do it all again.  But then it will probably be a bramble stuck in her bum fur, just to change it up a bit. Maybe I should sell ring-side tickets to watch the battle.

Anyway, keen to put our differences aside, I bought her a catnip ball.  Not a tatty, fabric shape infused with 3 solitary leaves of catnip.  No, this was an entire ball constructed of compressed catnip: a deluxe treat.

IMG_5480As I handed the peace offering to Gloria, she eyed me suspiciously.  Two minutes later, having wrestled with it, batted it, pummelled it, dribbled on it and sat on it, she promptly stood up and cast it aside.  Then she flounced off outdoors without even giving it a second glance.  Assuming that put an end to our disagreement, I made a well deserved cup of tea.  As I headed outside with my mug, I felt content in the knowledge that I would be able to sit peacefully in my bear chair, without the worry of being clawed through the wooden slats by a revenge-seeking tufty paw.

Ten minutes later, I received an unexpected present from Gloria in return – a plump, soggy, brown mouse deposited carefully at my feet.  A very much alive mouse who promptly took two large gasps of air, and then waddled off at a brisk pace.

The face of disapprovalGloria looked from me, to the mouse and then back to me again.  Clearly she was expecting some form of action.  We watched together as her ‘offering’ disappeared back into the undergrowth, like a mini spy on a secret mission, having infiltrated enemy lines. He was only missing the dark glasses and briefcase.  Maybe he’d left them in the hedge earlier.

Gloria threw herself on the grass in front of me, an air of disgust hanging like a dark cloud over her fuzzy head.  She glared at me.  I glared back.  And thus we ended up right back where we started from.  In my role as Chief Human Staff Member, I had yet again failed abysmally in trying to live up to Gloria’s high expectations.

Note to self: you can never win a fight when teeth and fluffy trousers are involved (just to clarify, both of those relate to the chuffin cat and not to me).

IMG_5091

You Know it’s Autumn When…

Standard

img_4612

1  You go for a walk in the woods and emerge looking like Miss Haversham, complete with delightful, new cobweb-infested accessories.

2  It’s communal shower time again, when your ablutions seem to be shared with all manner of uninvited moths, spiders and insects.  What’s worse than finding a spider in the shower?  Just finding the leg of a spider… leading you to die inwardly as you check the soles of your feet for the rest of the innards *shudder*

3  You step out of the shower, go to grab your towel, and instead find yourself shaking hands with a large spider.  It’s very nice of him to introduce himself formally before taking up residence in your bathroom, but I’d say his timing is a little off to be honest.

4  The chuffin cat develops a new coat – consisting mainly of dead leaves and garden debris – which she gleefully spreads around the house at regular intervals.  As a bonus, she might even bring you in a slug or three, stuck to her belly fur.  Having thrown the slug(s) across the room (any room, she’s not fussy), she will then provide you all with some evening entertainment as she proceeds to noisily suck all the slug snot off her body in a particularly uncouth manner.

5  You realise it might be time to invest in some little tin hats for the chickens, as the coop is positioned directly beneath a giant oak tree, and a heap of hooligan squirrels take obscene delight in lobbing acorns from a great height.  Alternatively, just rename your chickens Chicken Licken, Henny Penny, Turkey Lurkey and Cocky Locky, and live out your very own live version of the children’s classic tale.

6  The apple tree in the garden bears fruit, not that you get the chance to eat any of it as the marauding gang of squirrels snaffle the lot, once they’ve finished using the chickens as target practice that is.

img_3018

An Important Day

Standard

Dear Gloria

img_4417You may have woken me up at 6am (it’s Saturday, that’s really quite rude) by clattering a ping pong ball around the kitchen floor.

You may have run your teeth along my foot when I tried to go back to sleep.

You may have initiated an affectionate head-butt, but then turned at the last minute and yelled, “Sucker!” whilst slapping me round the face.

img_4525You may have insisted on going outside despite the rain lashing down, and then come in dragging wet leaves and debris across the freshly-vacuumed carpet.

img_4536You may have sat in the middle of the floor with your fur stuck up on end, looking like a giant fluffy porcupine, swiping away any offers of a towel, preferring instead to wipe your wet fur along the soft furnishings.

But today is an important day for you, so I didn’t shout.

I cleaned out your litter tray, since you prefer to use it like a ball pit, albeit with white grit in place of coloured balls.

I cooked a big roast beef meal, not because you like beef, but because you like the crispy bits from the roast potatoes.

img_4551I tried to take some pictures. You refused to smile for the camera.  You refused to sit still for the camera. You hate my camera.

I bought you presents, which I then wrapped in catnip-infused paper.  I did the same with the card I made for you too. You ignored that and chewed the foil bow instead.  You went berserk when you saw your new toy, but then ignored it when I removed the packaging.

But this is an important day for you.  Today is your second birthday.

And what did you do in return?

You decided to indulge me in a touch of forensic anthropology – my favourite subject. You left 3 dead mouse carcasses scattered in the front garden: fly-infested, mangled corpses, carefully placed in full view of the garden path.  Your very own body farm.  I only hope it wasn’t a warning for the postman.

img_4543So Happy Birthday, you mischievous heap of fluff and mayhem.  Here’s to another year of sleeplessness, irritability and attitude… I’m talking about you, not me, sweet cheeks.  Hope you’ve enjoyed your day more than I have *mwah*

with much love from the Chief Human Staff Member xx

img_3800

How To Take Down A Christmas Tree When You Have A Cat

Standard

1  Remove the cat from the tree.

2  Unplug the fairy lights.

IMG_39003  Explain to the cat (for the umpteenth time) that the wiring on the fairy lights is not to be used as dental floss.

4. Unwrap the wiring from the cat’s teeth.

5. Fetch the bag for the baubles. Remove the cat from the bag.

IMG_32376.  Look for the baubles on the tree. Note that there aren’t many left. Observe how the top half of the tree is still decorated whilst the lower half is completely bald (save for the odd mangled, half-chewed chocolate wrapper). Glare at the cat who is nonchalantly polishing her claws underneath the tree.

7.  Remove the cat from the tree.

8.  Pluck a bauble off the tree.  Drop the bauble on the floor as the cat pounces at your hand.

9.  Retrieve a plaster and stick it on your bleeding finger.

IMG_313110.  Chase the cat who is chasing the bauble round the lounge.

11. Retrieve the bauble from the cat and place it in the bag.

12.  Remove the cat from the bag.

13.  Remove the cat from the tree.

14.  Collect the remaining baubles from the tree, repeating steps 7-13 until all the baubles are safely deposited in the bag.

15.   Nip to the chemist to stock up on plasters.

16.  Remove the cat from the tree.

17.  Take hold of the fairy lights and gently unwind them from the tree branches.

18.  Remove the fairy lights from the cat’s mouth.

19.  Remove the cat from the tree.

20.  Replace the plasters on your fingers.

IMG_311821.  Keep unwinding the fairy lights from the tree branches.

22.  Unwrap the fairy lights from the cat’s neck.

23.  Remove the cat’s claws from the wiring on the fairy lights and stick another plaster on your bleeding hands.

24.  Lay the lights across the floor as you remove them from the tree.

25.  Remove the cat from the tree.

26.  Remove the cat from the lights.

27.  Run round in circles as you try to wind the fairy lights into a ball before the cat can throttle herself again.

28.  Find the box for the lights. Remove the cat from the box and place the lights in it.

29.  Take the tree down one segment at a time and place each segment in a large bag. Place any broken branches in the bags too, with the intention of reattaching them next Christmas… knowing full well that you will never get round to reattaching them.

30.  Pour yourself a large drink and dress your wounds whilst watching the cat sulk in the corner.

019

Gloria’s Twelve Days of Christmas

Standard

20151231-170921-61761645.jpg

What could be more trouble than a kitten at Christmas?
A 1 year old cat, that’s what.

This is to  be sung to the tune of the traditional song ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’… no drummers drumming or pipers piping in our house that’s for sure!

*****
On the first day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
A chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

20151231-171700-62220668.jpg

On the second day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the third day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

20151231-172339-62619407.jpgOn the fourth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the fifth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me

Five exasperated sighs….

Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the sixth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

20151231-172038-62438522.jpgOn the seventh day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Seven puffed up pounces
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the eighth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Eight battered baubles
Seven puffed up pounces
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

20151231-171443-62083715.jpgOn the ninth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Nine fractured fairy lights
Eight battered baubles
Seven puffed up pounces
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the tenth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Ten stolen sweeties
Nine fractured fairy lights
Eight battered baubles
Seven puffed up pounces
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me20151231-172851-62931562.jpg
Eleven puked-up pine needles
Ten stolen sweeties
Nine fractured fairy lights
Eight battered baubles
Seven puffed up pounces
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Gloria gave to me
Twelve chomped-on chocolates
Eleven puked-up pine needles
Ten stolen sweeties
Nine fractured fairy lights
Eight battered baubles
Seven puffed up pounces
Six chewed candy canes
Five exasperated sighs…
Four paws a-boxing
Three broken branches
Two eyes madly staring
And a chuffin cat in the Christmas tree.
*****

20151231-174245-63765542.jpg

And that just about sums up our Christmas.

Gloria and I would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very Happy and peaceful New Year.
But she’d like to keep the Christmas tree please.

20151231-170243-61363504.jpg

How to Introduce a Cat to a Chicken, Part 2

Standard

Have you ever wondered if a highly-strung chicken and a naughty young cat could be friends?  Judging by my ‘Friend not Food’ post earlier, you would assume not.

014Doris has never been the brightest chicken in the coop. Throw her a grape and she often stands motionless, staring at you with her beak open, a vacant look in her eyes. The grape can land on the floor directly in front of her, and she will still be gazing up at you.

“It’s there, you daft ‘apeth!” you can exclaim, pointing to the ground.

Only then will Doris look down and gasp (in a chicken-like manner) “Well I’ll be blowed! How the chuffin ‘ell did it get there??”

“It bounced off your beak and landed there when I threw it to you!”  (She’s not called Dim Doris for nothing).

And the plump little hen will shake her head, give a little chuckle and attack the grape viciously. It’s a shame that she doesn’t show the same attack mode when Gloria Chufflepuff appears.

Being a fluffy ninja, Gloria just wants a sparring partner; someone to ambush and chase and slap.  Yet Doris just wants to eat. Therein lies the problem.

Whereas Doris used to dilly dally about in the garden when I called her to bring her back to the coop (much like an errant child: “Hang on a mo, I’ve just found a worm!”), she now scuttles furtively into the relative safety of her enclosure. However Gloria still persists in trying to play.  021Many a time recently I have been replenishing the chicken food in the coop, when I’ve heard a noise from above. As I’ve looked up, I’ve been showered in dirt and cobwebs (dusting the coop isn’t high on Doris’ list of priorities) – only to find a wide-eyed furry face beaming down at me through the coop roof saying, “Oooh look! A CHIKIN!”

I mean, stalking from above?  That’s a bit out of order. Don’t chickens have a right to privacy?  Imagine being slap bang in the middle of a dust bath and looking up to discover a voyeuristic cat ogling you! Shocking.

Once Gloria had mastered the coop-top spying manoeuvre, she decided to take things a step further. There was I, merrily poo-picking in the coop… well I say merrily… maybe I’ve exaggerated a bit there. 067Doris hopped outside, having found an interesting speck of nothingness to peck.  As I followed her out of the coop, I pulled the door closed behind me… and turned to discover a fluffy face looking back at me. Yes, the cat was sitting inside the chicken coop, and the chicken was gleefully stomping about outside in the garden!  Doris thought this was hilarious, and in an act of blatant bravado she kept waddling up and pecking the outside of the enclosure.  I had never seen Gloria so subdued, her whiskers twitching as she blinked her big, green eyes. It wasn’t easy trying to swap the occupants over, believe me.

008Several days later, I had an even bigger surprise: having been bent double whilst undertaking the coop cleaning chores, I stood upright to be confronted by Gloria nonchalantly sauntering out of the pop hole of the chicken house. She then sat at the top of the ramp and had a quick wash, before looking at me with an expression that said, “WHAT??”.  Clearly impressed with the sleeping quarters, she had decided to make herself at home.

We have now got to the point where Gloria accompanies me down to the chicken coop every day. I open the door, Doris waddles out and Gloria bounds in.  014017Sometimes they sit together in the coop, pointing and laughing at me as I clean.  At other times, they play leap frog or rugby with Doris’ yellow ball.  Of course outside the coop, on the grass, Gloria reverts back to her ninja training and Doris often has to dive for cover, clucking loudly in annoyance.

 

So there we have it: yes, a thick chicken and a cheeky cat can be friends. But only if they live together as room-mates in the chicken coop.  Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad – with so many cobwebs down there, Gloria could make excellent use of her beloved feather duster!

023