Tuesday, 22 September 2015

Injustice!

Image: Percy cat, relaxing on the couch, in a patch of sunlight.
It's all Percy's fault!
Hello out there in the Bloggosphere,

I'm going to complain to the United Nations or the RSPCA or whoever it is you complain to when cats' rights are violated.

It's all Percy's fault.  I'm being punished unjustly because of him.

As you know, Percy was absent without leave for several hours yesterday.

Because of that, Mum has ordered cat-proofing to go on the fences for our yard, and has decreed that no cat can go outside until it's installed.

That means I had to stay in all day.

To make sure we did as we were told, she put the lock on our door.  And that lock works.  I know, I tried running head first into it full speed several times today. It wouldn't move.  But my head feels strange.  I think I can smell colours.

Mum took Fanta out to the yard lots of times, for bathroom breaks and just to play and relax in the sun, and roll around in the dirt.

I said, "Hey, Mum, innocent cat here who likes to play and relax in the sun and roll around in the dirt."

You know what she said?  She said: "You stay inside and get to know Percy."

Really. Who says I want to know Percy?

Most of the day, I've been napping on the spare bed.  Percy spent some of the morning on the couch, then moved to the nappy change table in the bathroom.  We've done quite a good job of avoiding each other.

A couple of times, Percy's tried to say hello to me, but I've told him in no uncertain terms that I don't want him here.

Fanta keeps wanting to make friends with the furball, but she's so big and clumsy Percy is afraid Fanta will hurt him.

Mum says everyone spending time inside together will be good for us, because we will have to learn to get on.  She says I learned to get on with Fanta, didn't I?

I say, open the door and let me go climb a tree.  I'm a cat, not a cuddly toy, I need to be out doing normal, natural, cat things.

So, for all of this cruel and unfeline punishment, I'm going to complain.

Until next time we meet in the Bloggosphere
I remain,


Mr Bumpy,
Bloggercat,
Supreme Feline Overlord,
and Political Prisoner.

Monday, 21 September 2015

Why Blame Me?

Hello out there in the Bloggosphere,

The humans are all worried tonight, and they seem to think it's my fault.  Even Mum's Facebook friends seem to think it's my fault.

Last night Percy settled in nicely.  He even got over his initial fear of Fanta to sleep on Mum's bed with both Mum and Fanta.

I slept on the couch. Alone.  Nobody came out to comfort me.

Well, Mum got up a couple of times through the night to check on me, but Fanta and Percy came with her each time, and I didn't want to be friends with Percy, and I told Fanta I didn't want to be friends with her if she was with Percy, either.

This morning, when Mum opened the pet door, Percy went out to the yard, but he came back after sunning himself for a while, and had brushies and watched TV for a while, before wandering out again.

Mum was pretty sure he knew to come back.

It's past dinnertime and he's not back yet.

Now the humans are worrying.

Of course, Percy doesn't know when dinner time is, or when lock-up time is, so he's just staying out as late as he feels like.

But the humans are afraid that he's lost or run away, or that I have chased him away.

One of Mum's Facebook friends asked if I'd been seen with a very small shovel, in case they should be looking for a shallow grave.

Mum's already posting his picture on lost animal pages of Facebook.

I think it's all a big over-reaction.  He can't really be gone.  I wouldn't be that lucky.

I'm sure he's going to saunter in, in his own good time, and steal my place on the bed, boss my doggy sister around, and get attention from my humans.

Of course, he's going to stay out really late first, just to make the humans think I might have done something to him, just so they act suspiciously towards me.  I can already tell he's that kind of a cat.

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


Mr Bumpy,
Totally Innocent, but Not Believed,
Supreme Feline Overlord.









Update:
Half past midnight the prodigal cat returned.
Mum killed the fatted wet food sachet for him to have a feast.
His resentful big brother (Bumpy) grumbled and complained.
Mum told the big brother to "build a bridge and get over it."

Percy is now contentedly proving his name should be "Purrrcy".

Sunday, 20 September 2015

Percy

Percy
Hello out there in the Bloggosphere,

You might remember that when I ran for Federal Parliament, one of my policies was that there should be no feline homelessness.

Well, I'm revising my opinion.

You see, Mum decided to save a feline from homelessness - by bringing him to our home!

Yes, you read that right.  I have a new little brother, Percy.  Miss C says he's Sir Percival.

He's some sort of high class Persian. (Well, that's what the rescue people said, but he looks more like a rag doll.)  But my humans got him from a group who rescue cats from death row.

So, one has to ask, is this new "brother" a criminal who deserved execution?

Mum told me not to be silly, but Percy's already committed a major crime here.  He brought fleas when he came from the foster carer.  And Mum didn't just flea treat him, she gave Fanta and me extra flea treatments as well!

Apart from that, he apparently supposed to share my stuff - dishes, litter tray, even humans.

Well, I don't like him.  I don't like the smell of him.

If anyone wants me, I'll be behind the tv. No I'm not sulking.  I'm just not welcoming this pile of hair into my house.

Fanta's already fawning over him.  The humans all seem to adore him too.  It's just not right.

I'm the Feline Overlord here, and everyone just better remember that.

Whats that Mum? Treats?  Why yes, I'll have a couple.

No, crunch, crunch, I don't want to come talk to my new brother. But I'll have some more of those Temptations if you're offering.

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


Mr Bumpy,
Very disgruntled,
Supreme Feline Overlord.