The Quiet Meow

Sometimes, when I’m cuddled up and the hoomans are within seeing distance but not patting distance, I will bring out my special trick: the Quiet Meow.

The Quiet Meow involves me doing the quietest, sweetest, whisperiest meow, sometimes even without any sound at all and looking as enticing and lovely as possible. Sometimes I only need to twitch my whiskerpads for it to count as a quiet meow. I will continue to let out quiet meows until I get the desired result: the nearest hooman running straight up to me with a squeal and giving me a big cuddle and lots of pats and chin rubs. WIN!

Check me out in action here:

Wordless Wednesday

Morning Wake Up Calls

Every morn at a time of my choosing – usually between 4.30 and 6.30am - I like to wake up the hoomans. The hoomans are required to rise at this time for feeding and/or entertainment purposes.

Behold!

Haha just tricking, this isn’t what I do. We don’t have a baseball bat at our house for starters and I quite like my hoomans to *not* have head injuries. Instead I like to use a combination of the following techniques:

• knocking things off the top of drawers;
• biting plastic water bottle lid loudly and crunchily;
• scratching walls;
• a little claw to the edge of the hooman's lip or nostril;
• general face prodding;
• the bladder sit;
• marching on the spot (usually on the hooman's chest);
• the eye lick;
• ball walking;
• waiting for the hooman to half open their eyes and then bringing my paw (claws extended) towards one of their eyes.

I think that’s about it. The hoomans are getting wise to my current repertoire so it would be good to have some new tricks up my furry sleeve. If anyone has any other ideas, I would love to hear them!

I command thee to wake up

Neighbourhood watch

Every breath you take, every move you make...

The neighbours’ house on the right is my number one priority. I need to check it at least four times a day to make sure nothing has happened to it. Like perhaps it might have fallen down when my back is turned. Or maybe someone has painted it blue while I am asleep.

I sit and stare at the house from my perch on the heater. So far not a lot has happened over there in the few years I have lived here. The house has not burned down during this time. Nor have they added anything cool like a bird aviary. One time the neighbours moved out and we got new neighbours. I liked the old neighbours better. They would wave at me through their lounge window. The new ones don’t seem to do anything interesting.

The neighbours on the other side of my house do not concern me as much. They have a giant rabbit which is bigger than I am and two chickens. The chickens pecked me once when I ran up to say hello with my claws, so now I avoid them like the plague.

Must stop blogging now and continue surveying next door...

Introducing Miss Meg

Do do, do do, dodododo, dodododo... (Jaws)

This is Meg, my big sisfur. She came to live with the hoomans a year and a half before I did so she was the boss of the house (and still thinks she is, but I know better!)

    

Synchronised ignoring

 








We didn’t get on at all at first. It took two weeks before she would even stay in the same room as me. Now we get on ok. We like to wrestle and try to kill hug each other. Sometimes I like to kick her off the top of the cat tree, and sometimes she swats me when I get all up in her face.



Here is a video of us happily sharing one of my Top Cat Model prizes:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owscymf9Hl4

Working the gam

Meg is a lot shyer than I am and has a gammy leg. She ruptured her cruciate ligament and her leg has never been quite the same since. When she sits down she always sticks her leg out at a funny angle.

Meg's favourite sleeping position aka Beanbag Pose

I’m sure you will agree that Meg is almost just as bootiful as me!

Ode to My Garage

One of these things just doesn't belong here

I know it’s going to be a great day when I beat the hoomans through the garage door as they leave for work. It means I can snuggle and purr all day long on the pile of dusty duvet inners and curtains right at the top of the garage shelving.

Yep. That's right. Just me....and the garage. Time for some Barry White.

The hoomans don’t like me being in the garage. They think I’m going to get up to mischief in there with all the bits and pieces lying around. There's also the matter of pawprints and scratches on the beloved car. But the more they try to shut me out and stop me, the more I realise that I cannot live without my garage.

O how I love thee, Garage! O how my throat becomes hoarse when I forlornly cry your name over and over while we are apart!

That's a 9.75 for the dismount.

Welcome to my new blog!

Here it is! My very own blog! Not only am I on Facebook and Twitter (not so often now), but I now have this, my special page where I can keep you up to date with all the latest highflying highjinks in the world of me! I might even allow my big sister Meg some airtime too. But only if she plays nice.

I would like to say a special big thank you to grandad hooman for designing the header logo. Extra big running headboof next time I see you grandad....

So what have I got in store for you all? Well I'm not entirely sure, but how about we start off as we mean to go on with a couple of pictures of yours truly being a diva during my aeroplane model shoot:

Take 1. Nuh uh!

Take 2. Nope!