Saturday, 22 March 2014

Dear Ombudsman

Dear Ombudsman

I understand you're the person to write to when things aren't fair, if I can't get justice by any other means.

Well, things are very, very, unfair at my house lately.  I've appealed to Mum for justice, and she has ignored my pleadings.

First of all, Joey keeps a bed at my house to sleep in when she visits.

If I get into her bed at all, I get into lots of trouble. Humans get me out and tell me that's Joey's and I'm not allowed to use it!

Well, I've had a claim on the furry blankies on the couch for ever!

But when Joey decided she liked to play on them, Mum just said: "I guess I've got to wash them more often."

Now, while I do appreciate Mum washing the blankies so I don't get baby drool or whatever other stuff on my lovely fur, I think there is a principle at stake here.

If I'm not allowed where she likes to sleep, why is she allowed where I like to sleep?

Well, that's what I'd like to know.

I think the world will be a much better place when I'm in charge of all of it.

Yours sincerely.

Mr Bumpy,
Supreme Feline Overlord.

Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Watson Holmes, Feline Detective

Feline detective on the job.
Hello out there in the Bloggophere,

I don't know if you know this, but I'm an expert detective.

Mum and I watch detective shows together all the time.  And sometimes I help her read detective books on her kindle.  She says it's hard to read through a cat, but  really she knows she needs my help.

So, as I'm such an expert, it was no surprise at all when Mum asked me to solve a real life crime.  It was a matter of vandalism.

Mum said: "Bumpy, can you explain why there's claw marks in the office chair?"

"Claw marks on the office chair? The one we sit on to write my blog?" I asked, shocked.

I immediately jumped up on the chair and inspected.

Mum was right. (That was something of a surprise, because, well, you know, she is only human.)

A close inspection of the evidence.
A close inspection of the evidence, revealed the claw marks were exactly the same size as my claws.

Well that narrowed it down to species.  The offender was clearly feline.

I did a search of the house. There were no open doors or windows.  There was no way in or out, unless someone actually let the miscreant in.

That made it an inside job! A human, one of my humans, was a traitor!

Someone had let a cat or cats unknown into the house so they could claw our office chair.

I tried to question the suspects.

Mum just demanded to know what had happened to the chair.

When I asked Mr 19 about opening doors, he said, "Do you want to go out?  OK, just come in for lock-up time." He opened the door for me very kindly.

So here's my two alternate theories:

One, Mum deliberately let another cat into the house to claw the chair to try to frame me, for whatever nefarious reasons Mum might have.  (Remember, this is the person responsible for Friskies shortages and the occasional late delivery of stinky fish.  I wouldn't put anything past her.)

Or two, Mr 19, being such a kind-hearted human, let another cat into the house, without paying due attention, thinking it was me.  If that happened, that also means there's another cat in the neighbourhood impersonating me and probably getting up to all kinds of crimes.

So far I haven't found a way to prove which theory is right. But the case is still open.

Trust me I'll catch the cat-clawing chair criminal, eventually.

Until next time we meet in the Bloggosphere,
I remain,

Mr Bumpy,
Supreme Feline Overlord,
World's Greatest Detective.