Swine Flu?

Don't know if it's possible for a cat to get H1N1, but whatever it was it was a doozy. Once again I couldn't eat, drink, crap or piss, which are basically all I ever do besides sleep. So Smelly Feet and Blondie got me into the plastic jail cell and took me to the vet. Turns out it was some kind of virus again, so the daily treatment was pills jammed down my throat twice daily followed by the ol' tube in the backside for fluids trick. Yowza! I'm back at it again, causing a fuss like usual. And yes I did catch two bats at the same time. How'd I do it you ask? All in good time, my friends, all in good time.

How to Brainwash Humans... part one

We all know humans are so predictable. And they think they know everything. So, let's take advantage of this. Example: you want soft food and your humans are being stingey. Easy! Pretend you're sick by acting "lethargic" (acting lethargic? it's a way of life!) by sleeping "too much", next thing you know the humans will give you extra attention- you know, scratches, cuddles, the works. But hang in there, take the attention but once every two days yak up your dry food (don't worry, this won't go on more than two days) and meow in a strange pitch for awhile. Result? Humans think you're sick, see the yak and try change your diet to something more digestible. And voila! Soft food! Suckers!

The Disadvantages of Freedom

I know, the title sounds strange. Like something Al Gore would say. But it's true. Ever since I've been given my freedom weird shit has started happening. First, I eat a poisonous mouse. Well, I didn't exactly eat it, but bit enough of the bugger to send me swirling and earn a visit to the hospital. Put me out of commision for days. Next, I get soaked. I already mentioned how wet this summer was, and I don't know how many times I got caught in the rain. No joy whatsoever. But you know the worst thing of all about being an "outdoor" cat? Freakin' fleas. OH...MY...GOD... These things drive me crazy. Stinky Feet even bathed me the other day. It helped for a day or two but they're back. The creepy pests do a daily migration up and down my back but have pretty well set up camp just up from my tail. You know, that spot that you just can't reach. So next thing you know all my customary sleeping spots are infested too. Haven't slept in my bed for weeks. Hardly ever sit on my pillow. You know the only places to hang where the bastards don't get you is on cold linoleum or on top of Blondie's dresser. But they're out there, lurking, waiting, dying to get at me.

Blondie got some spray the other day that's supposed to help. NOT. This toxic stuff is like Agent Orange but all the fleas did was pack up and move camp further up my back. IT IS DRIVING ME CRAZY!!! Besides the fleas, August was alright. A little damp, but at least that dog is gone. Hallelujah! Bring on September. Gotta go, my ass is itchy. Adios.

July, a month like no other

Hey humans. How's it going? And don't start complaining about the weather- you caused it (google: global warming) so deal with it. Must admit though, July's been pretty damp. Seriously cramping my social life. You want to know why cats don't like the rain? 'Cause we can't hold onto umbrellas- we don't have thumbs, morons! So I've been spending a lot more time indoors doing my nap research. But that's not easy either. The big, smelly German shepherd is still around so I've got to skulk around to avoid him. Don't get me wrong, I can handle him. He definitely doesn't want one of my claw-filled roundhouses to his ugly snout. But I've been controlling myself. The beast doesn't know any better, I mean, he's a dog. The guy can't even go outside without a rope tied to him, what a clown! And you want to know something freakin' hilarious? Smelly Feet and Blondie walk around the block (yawn) with him tied to the rope and collect his crap in plastic bags!! I almost burst a gut the first time I saw this. They actually wait while he drops one, then pick it up in a bag and then bring it home with them!!! As you kids say LMAO!!!

So I haven't seen to much of Pippers this month. He has no self control when it comes to the dog. I've tried to tell him: "Dude, relax... it's just a dog", but he lets his instincts take over and next thing you know they're scrapping. The end result is usually the dog gets scratched on the nose and Pippers runs and hides and risks cardiac arrest. Take some cat nip buddy. Remember, we're cats, we run things.

Well, it's raining again. Surprise! I'm heading upstairs to work on my thesis.

Did I tell you about the bat in the basement? Maybe next time. Sayonara, suckas!

Just when you thought you'd seen it all...

A dog. Can you freaking believe it? A dog. Smelly Feet left for a couple days and comes back with a fancy new car and a dog. A big, smelly, wants to constantly niff you and bark at you, German shepherd dog. So needless to say it's hard to get some attention around here. The dog, his name's Shango... what kind of freakin' name is Shango? Well the dog eats my food but he's afraid to go upstairs for some reason so I eat up there lately. The other night the crazed canine tried to chase me around the house and got punished by being sent to the mud room. Ha! Show him to mess with numero uno in this casa. So, yeah, I'm spending a lot more time upstairs and outside these days. Pippers freakin' hates Shango. Took a swipe at him the first time they met. Atta boy Pip. Show that mofo dog who runs things.

You think my fur made a mess? Man, this thing makes his own carpets. There is hair everywhere! And my stools smell like roses next to this beast. I tried some of Shango's food today. Horrible. I yakked. No wonder his loofies reek.

I'll write some more later but here comes the dog again so I'm heading upstairs for a nap. Did I tell you about my all-nighter last night? Blondie and Smelly Feet left me out all night long! But that's another story.

I'm back, and I've lost weight!

Hey people. Sorry, it's been awhile I know. After the near death experience ( I'm only exagerating a little bit- you ask Blondie, I was H-U-R-T-I-N-G!) I've been up to my ears in mischief. I'm really getting to know the neighbourhood well, and enjoy causing havoc by staying out WAY late and waiting for the humans to try and entice me back with the bag of treats. I definitely could get used to this lifestyle. Smelly Feet lets me out first thing in the morning and all I have to do is come back, meow a little and they put food out for me- SUHweet! And if I stay out real late I get treats! You figure that one out.

Oh yeah, and since the last time I was weighed back when I was a city cat in T-dot, I've lost a whole half a kilo! That's like 15 pounds in cat weight! Actually, when I think about it my buddy Pippers has lost weight too, but that's only because half the dead thing hanging off his back end that he calls a tail fell off. GROSS!

We've had lots of visitors and they seem to enjoy picking me up, scratching me, you know the usual human stuff. "He's so big!" they scream. Oh yeah, thank you very much. I've been neutered though.

You readers ought to consider a visit, you'd love it. There's fresh air, lots of bike trails, rivers everywhere, but one thing I would definitely recommended- don't eat the mice.

Later folks.

not...feeling....well....

Hey there loyal followers, I'm gonna be brief. Felt great last week, caught a mouse on Friday, showed it off to Smelly Feet then woke up Saturday morning feeling like crap. I yakked a couple times, I've got no appetite (yes, I, Ficus, have nooo appetite) and my belly hurts. Blondie took me to the vet where they stabbed me, poked me and shoved things down my throat. Looks like I'm just going to chill for a few days, so bear with me.
Don't worry I'll be back, hungrier than ever.
Oh yeah, the doc said I've lost weight! Almost half a kilo.
Over and outski.

It's me, Ficus again.

So. Peterborough. Smells nice here. I've got a lot of space.

I have to admit The Blonde One can be really embarrassing: if I've "gone too far" she comes to pick me up. Seriously. Get over it, lady. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have your "Mum" come and pick you up in front of your buddies? I have legs lady. I can walk home. And no, I am not high on the catnip and trying to hide my eyes. I just want to go out sometimes.

About my neighbours. They're brothers, but I think they're brothers from other mothers. One is named Peepers. Or so I thought. Suddenly everyone is calling him PIPpers. Pippy my ass. He's not so PIPpy. You should hear some of the shit that comes out of his mouth. Anyway, maybe I'm being a little sensitive.....Smelly Feet has decided to feed Pipers some of MY treats. I guess he's not so bad. I mean....he does come to visit me every morning. We DID nap today. He does know an awful lot about the 'hood. He warned me about his brother, Jack. Jack-ass. He had the nerve to growl at me today. Bring it Jack. I'm fatter than you. Really, Give Peace a Chance, man.

Anyway, dinner time. Gotta jet, obviously.

it's "pippers", not "peepers" please!

Hey. I'm Pippers. I live next door to that fat thing they call Ficus. Don't get me wrong, he seems like a cool cat but geez, he could do to skip a meal now and then. And talk about lack of street smarts! You'd thing he spent his whole life indoors!

So I am more or less King of the Hill around here. I was born and raised in a barn and prefer the great outdoors to the stuffy house. I met Stinky and the Blonde One a few weeks back while they were checking out the house and it looks like they've moved in. They're a bit stingey on the treats though, the students who lived there before even put a bowl out for me. But they do shoot me the odd one here and there, although I'm sure Fat Fike eats raw sirloin and sips on half and half cream, either that or he's got a monster brick of cheese that he keeps to himself.

Between you and me though, it's good to have another curious cat in the 'hood. My roommate Jack (he's Siamese) isn't much of a wanderer, and we definitely need to make our feline presence known or you never know, this could become dog country.

Ok. So my tail doesn't move. I was born that way. My owner once considered chopping it off, but really it doesn't get in my way. And I have had it for 19 years now. Yep, nineteen years. And I've got a ways to go yet, that's for sure. It's all about pacing yourself. Something you humans could take a lesson on. Anyways, I'll be stopping in from time to time. Nice to meet you, got any treats?

relocation

I thought so. There was something weird going on for awhile there and it all makes sense now. Blondie and Smelly Feet packed up everything, put it in a van and took it away. Then they came for me, put me in a cage (how degrading) and drove me to the country. Must admit, I was pretty nervous. Yeah, so I shat myself too, like you wouldn't do the same. Anyways, it turns out they've rented a house in Peterborough- my home town! I've only been here a few days but it sure is different. There's other cats all over the place. Next door lives Peepers, and I'm not too sure about her. She meows funny. Her tail doesn't move. And she spends all day outside! I saw another tabby cat as well, and a siamese. As soon as they unpack the camera I'll post some pics. Later folks!

yakked

Yo. I yakked this morning, maybe my owners will get the message: THAT DIET FOOD TASTES LIKE CRAP. Do they really think I can't tell the difference between regular dry stuff and the "low calorie", "low fat", shite? Hey humans, guess what? I can read the package. Duh. If I have my own blog don't you think I know how to read? Freakin' clowns. Anyway, Blondie's away so Smelly Feet'll have to clean it up. You know sometimes I think he figures I'm going to eat my own puke, is he nuts? Well, truth be told, some of that deluxe food is worth another go, I mean, I know where it's been. Ha! Oh yeah, I left a dangleberry on my butt this morning too, you should've seen the look on his face, abso-freakin-lutely priceless. There's a nap in my future, and the future is now.

the shitter

Behold the "shitter". Well, I piss in there too, but still I call it the "shitter". One of my goals in life is to try and make this thing as stinky as possible by half burying my dumps and then peeing by the front door. Then, once a week or so I like to sit back while Blondie and Smelly Feet decide whose turn it is to change the gravel that I've crapped on! Hil-freakin'-arious! You gotta wonder why there's a roof on the thing though, I mean, what are they expecting- a tornado or something? And while I'm going on about it I'd really like a magazine rack and maybe a light in there, you know, for those looooong sessions. Anyhoo... gotta run, I saw a treat wedged in the couch I must've overlooked this morning. Meow.

think I need a furcut

Been thinking lately it's time for a change. I mean, I've been wearing my fur the same way ALL MY LIFE. I was flicking through channels on the noisy picture box the other day ( no thumbs required) and I saw a few styles that I might consider. I really like that sleek, smooth look that cheetahs are wearing these days. Then there's the rough and tumble, devil may care look of the lion. Knowing my humans, though, they'll do something ridiculous like some lame-ass poodle. Anyhow, for now I'll just shed all over the place and see if that helps.

there's something afoot...

I'm not stupid. I may be a cat but I know what's going on. There's something funny going on at my place these days. Blondie has been away for days on end and Smelly Feet doesn't scramble around the house near five o'clock trying to make it like he's been doin' shit all day. My guess is either they're splitting up- which I doubt 'cause they seemed pretty tight last weekend- or there is some kind of move coming up. Yeah, that's it. There was some people looking at the place the other day. yep, that's gotta be it. Thanks for the warning. I tried to look my best but I get the usual- "Wow, that's a BIG cat" ... typical. Well, I guess I don't have too much say in the matter. All I can hope for is they don't do the "Slim Cat" wherever we end up.
I'll try to keep you all up to date. Meeee ow.

the amazing slim cat

So this is the amazing "slim cat" ball that everyone's talking about. It's brutal. The humans put a "day's" worth of food in it, twist it open and figure they're off the hook for the rest of the day. Yeah, right. The thing's round humans, it's going to roll. Morons. And they wonder why I wake them at 5 a.m. when the damn "slim cat" has rolled behind the vacuum cleaner.

I hate this thing. Imagine trying to eat your favourite tuna sandwich while wearing a muzzle. Ridiculous. I swear one day I'll roll the thing off the deck and smash it into a million pieces down below. What is down there anyway? One day I really gotta check it out. You know, stretch the ol' legs a bit. Nah, screw that. Sounds like too much work for this cat. Lasers are up but the humans are distracted by "chores", I'm napping.

laser beams, part deux

Man, these humans are nuts. They put up these laser beams to keep me from heading back to bed after eating. Yeah, right. As if a few elastic bands are going to keep me from my favourite pastime, napping. Here's a picture I found in one of their cameras showing me "stuck" in the laser beams. Losers.

Hilarious part is they forget they've put the laser beams up and then trip on them while carrying a load of laundry in their arms. Serves them right. Wait, I hear the sound of food. Gotta go.

soft food- why not everyday?

I guess you figured out by now that I LOVE soft food, I'd say it's my favourite thing in the whole wide world next to sleeping. In fact, what could be better than waking up to the sound of a tin of soft food being opened, chomping it back and then going back to sleep... heaven. Trouble is, for some reason, my humans only give me the soft stuff maybe once a week if that. It's as if they're hoarding it. Wait a sec, maybe- heaven forbid- there is a soft food crisis. I know the noisy picture box is full of depressing economic news about stuff I can't really get my head around, but what if the world soft food supply was drying up? Oh my god! Noooooo!! Say it ain't so.
I know there's plenty of tuna to go around, my humans love the stuff. But it must be quite rare or expensive because I hardly get any of that. In fact smelly feet tries to shut me up by just pouring the tuna juice in my bowl, thinking I'll be content with that. Think again, stinky.
Anyways, I'm late for my nap.

these are a few of my favorite things

1.) Food. Soft food is my favorite thing, really. Those humans complain about the smell; but i think its absolutely delectable. The pellet food is ok, especially if there's nothing else offered. Lately the humans have started putting the food in a plastic ball. Apparently, it's intent is to ration my food for me as I seem to be deficit in cutting myself off, a problem that often leads to some gastric reflux.
2.) Tuna. Tuna gets a status all on its own. There's nothing I love more than hearing the clang of a can opener on a can of tuna. I have a sneaking suspicion that the humans eat an awful lot of tuna that they don't share with me. They tell me to "relax, it's not tuna." Do they think i was just born yesterday, those greedy buggers?
3.) Treats. Apparently the blonde human attests that they're good for my teeth. I attest to the fact that they're delicious. I'm even willing to prance along the couch to get them. mmmmm...treats.
3.) Waking people up unnecessarily. Hilarious. People can get seriously upset when woken up for no reason. My tactic of choice is to walk on hair that is strewn across a pillow. This is followed closely by screaming right at who-ever-is-sleeping's face. I often do this in a high pitched whiney voice.
4.) Sleeping. Obviously. NO brainer. Who the hell doesn't love to nap. I have a couple favorite places, but more on that later.
5.) Suntanning. If it wasn't for that blasted raccoon. He stinks. And he tries to eat my food. Bastard. (See numbers 1-3).
6.) Catnip. It must be good, if i'm willing to lick that dry ball of fabric for it.
7.) Modeling. Damn I look good.
8.) The occasional trip down the hall. This one time, some nice lady down the hall fed me all night. Sweet find. I went down the stairs once and the blonde one carried me all the way back up. Silly. I would have come home; they feed me. (agian, see numbers 1-3).

hmmm...nap time

TV tirade

I hid the remote from the humans the other day. I've decided to call them the humans out of respect for my real parents; they were young and couldn't really raise all eight of us. Anyways, I hid the remote for the t.v. under my pillow and man, you should've seen them freak out. It's like they couldn't live without it, freaks. So after a half hour of frantic searching and cursing they find the thing and here we go again- same old, same old. I don't even know why they bother with all the four hundred channels they get when they really only use four. After trying to ignore the stupid noisy picture box I've started to notice a few things:
That English guy who cooks and swears, I think his name is Gordon Ramseed, he's quite a prick but I think he can't help himself and most of the time he's right on.
There's this show, Planet Earth, lots of furry freaks and some HOT felines...MEE-freakin'-OW..
I hate it when the blonde human wants to watch The National... zzzzzz, pillow please.
George Strombolopolus... nice name pal... he's a bit of a tool
Hockey rocks, but the smelly feet human has this loser team that never gets as happy as the other team... and what's with the freak in the jackets that make my sleepy blanket look sharp?
Survivor Man wouldn't stand a chance if I was out there and hungry. I agree though that plants taste awful and can make you puke.
Reality Shows? I mean really people. Maybe you should have a close look at your own lame reality.
Well, smelly feet's got the reggae on and the blonde one is playing with dirt again. They've put the laser beams on, but there seems to be a steady supply of food around so I'm good. Except they put my food in some goddam plastic ball, but that's another story. I'm outta here.

Laser Beams

My parents suck. First of all they're not really my parents. I call them that because they look after me, feed me, clean out my shit station, open the big glass door and all that jazz. But they are humans. My cat parents abandoned me when I was little and I ended up with Mom when I was about 5 weeks old in human time. Anyways, laser beams. Let me explain. My folks think I sleep too much so they've rigged the staircase with these freakin' elastic bands so I've either got to do some damn limbo to get under them, which is near impossible, or leap three steps up and I'm not exactly in top physical condition if you get my drift. So they shake the treat bag which puts me into a hypnotic trance and I end up downstairs and wolf back the treats and BOOM! there's the freakin' laser beams. I don't know why they call them laser beams. They smoke pot now and then. I'll try and get a picture and post it. Later.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

I woke up and yakked. Well, I guess I had it coming to me. I ate half a ball before I crashed, then my Dad put some treats up on the tight-rope couch and I really should have stayed in bed. Anyways, it's Sunday and it's raining out so I'm gonna go back to bed. No laser beams so far. More on that later.