Pussy Paranoia

Now, my freaky, fidgety, feline fellow inmate, Tiger, wants to say a few words:

I run here, I run there. Got to keep on the move. I can appear or disappear in the blink of a cat-flap. I'm sly, I'm sleek, I'm more street-savvy than Old Mellow Marmaduke. My coat is streaked with go-faster stripes and I've heard the humans (my cat-captors) say that I've an evil smile. This, I reserve for them. Next door, I'm Snugglepuss and that's another tale.

Today, I felt more freaked than ever. The ringleader of the tormentors came looking for me. Caught off-guard lounging on the logs in the autumn sun like a snake, I was well and truly rattled. As he slipped back to tell his conspirator my location, I sneaked along the wall behind him, ears pricked.

I eavesdropped on a phone call She was making to her mother. They had been going out for the day but they had to stop along the way. They had to stop to see if the deceased creature at the kerbside was me or just cat carrion. I gather that they weren't completely certain. So they went to Costa for a coffee. Then they did some shopping. And then they came back to see if I was around. Was He checking to see if he'd got the right one? Surely not; after all, they were supposed to be going out for a day with the children and He wouldn't want to miss that. Even that headless rat incident yesterday wouldn't drive him to that. Would it? Hmmm..... Very unsettling.

I'm telling you all this just in case. Just in case something happens to me so you know who did it. In the meantime, my thoughts are with the poor chap who lies assassinated on the grass verge and may his feline family be comforted by the knowledge that I will continue the good work. Marmaduke calls me paranoid and I call him complacent. We'll see how cool he is when he's fox-fodder at the roadside.

Yellow

Hi there

I dunno who came up with this 'Ginger Ninja' idea. Ninjas are cool, although not as cool as me, of course and I kinda get the feelin' they're twitchy, y'know? All those fast moves, they're too stressy. Like that other cat dude in the house. Man, he is stressy. Always, flitting here and there, tummy on the deck, no dignity. Never strolls or slinks. Never wiggles his behind. I could teach him a thing or two if only he'd stay still long enough.

The ninja thing isn't really a big deal. I've heard what they call Tiger sometimes and it's worse. So I can live with it. But ginga? No, man, I'm yellow. Yellow and deep yellow. Stylish stripes, valleys or deep ocre swirling around the contours of my hips, a rub-me tummy. swim-in-me eyes and the biggest paws my humans have ever seen. And you know what they say about cats with big paws? Man, if you don't, I can't tell you. But they're real big.

I got to thinkin' about names and humans and things because I read an email from my human's relative (one of her litter) in a place called Australia. It seems that there's a bit of trouble going down under between Jacquie the Jack Russell and some neighbour feline dude they call the Grey Ghost. Now, I ain't sure why humans have this thing about colours. That much is the same here as there. But what's different is that me and Monty are cool. Sounds like this Grey Ghost needs some chillin' lessons from yours truly and the Jack Russell will roll over and stop the frothin' at the chops.

Got to go. Got some serious leg rubbin' to do before dinner.

May I introduce myself?

My name is Marmaduke and I'm a 'sleeping partner' in the household.

I greet you in the world of blogging to create a sense of balance because that's what life's all about man. Balance. And we cats are pretty good at that. Yeah, that's right man. Balance.

In order to achieve balance, you need to rest, to think, to stretch, think...aaahhhh...prrrrr.. nearly nodded off.....soft, warm...

As I was sayin', that dude Monty wanted me to write some diary or somethin'. What's to write about? Cat stuff. Wants to know what's happenin' in the neighbourhood probably. Ah well, got to go.

Laterzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz