Right, it took me a while to have something to blog AND get a turn at the Blogger machine.
FTR: It ISN'T that I don't play well with others, it's that I prefer to choose me own mates, aye?
Sigh. Here's the short story:
See me with 'the freedom of the city' (well, ok, market town, which is not anywheres near enough to be considered a city, fwiw):
Looking good, no? Wait, here's one of me in the back garden:
And even better (a real points earner with Them), I always wipe me paws when I arrive home:
I would post the snap Her took a few minutes ago but really it's too depressing. My poor Roo face is plastered to the bedroom window overlooking the back garden where I am no longer permitted. I'm no longer permitted in the front garden, either. Nor in the lane you see beckoning in the top snap. I am no longer permitted outside, full stop.
I am Roo, The Tartan Terror - under the Kitteh equivalent of a bleedin' ASBO! (Anti-Social Behaviour Order for those of you unfamiliar with the term). ME! The finest Kat in two of the most important countries in the UK, am under a Kitteh ASBO! So unfair. So very unfair.
Permit me to expand...
RULES FOR BEING AN ONLY KAT AND FINALLY BEING GIVEN THE FREEDOM OF THE CITY:
*Understand that your Them are loveable dafties who will take forever to figure out that you NEED to go OUT. NOW! WHENEVER YOU WANT!
*Me-yowl like mad and climb the net curtains whilst on yet another (wretched for me, wonderful for them. Heh) holiday to Mum and Dad's and The Three Horrible Fur-Cousins. Keep them awake all night doing this. Through-out the week long holiday.
*Walk nicely on the harness and lead so that you can suss out all the good spots, and get a look at the competition - do this at home and abroad btw.
*Wander unconsolably me-yowling from window to window once home to drive them mad until THEY FINALLY OPEN THE BACK GARDEN DOOR AND LET YOU OUT OF DOORS. Did I mention FINALLY?!
*Make your loveable self known to all of the neighbours especially those thick enough to fall for your starving cat piteously me-yowling for treats (even though lifting you for a nice cuddle will give the poor 'Bean back strain because you are so pampered at home with nicely filled bowls of delicious premium wet AND dry cat food, and you bag treats from Them regularly too).
*If caught out in the rain (O. M. Bast! Can it rain in Scotland?? More like does it ever stop raining in Scotland?!) it is of course and certainly permissable to leap onto the closest window ledge and me-yowl piteously to be let in, dried in a warm fluffy towel (note to self, Them GOTTA get a tumble dryer! A warm fluffy towel straight from the tumble drier is definitely Kat Bliss!) and of course, comforted with a nice treat.
*But NEVER-EVER-NEVER get caught terrorising the second cat (always a female, ffs, why is that?!) when you leap up on the kitchen window ledge to see if your mate Arthur (the first cat, of course) can come out to play.
Her name is Annie. She is a spoiled whingeing little Tortie who thinks she is a Princess. One of these days...oh wait. I am not allowed out of doors any more. Because of her.
She wrecked it all, she really did. It IS NOT MY FAULT! All I did was check to see if my mate Arthur could come out to play. He does it all the time at my house and my Them don't think it's a problem. (Well, ok, there is no other Kat at my house to be supposedly terrorised by Arthur's appearance, but still.)
The twit ran away after hissing-spitting-growling-shaking-and otherwise demonstrating to her 'Bean audience that I was some sort of DemonKat bent on eating her or something. Hah!
OK, she ran away four times. Always after I appeared to pick-up my mate Arthur. The twit. (Annie, not Arthur)
The faker! I know she does this because she's angry Arthur isn't around to play her stoopid GirlKat games anymore because he's hanging with a real Kat - me of course.
And so yesterday her 'Bean walked the four doors down to my Them's door.
And knocked.
And asked Them please to do something about me terrorising Little Precious (aka Annie) because the 'Bean is worried Little Precious will run away for good.
(Which would be good for Arthur because he really can't stand her. He just puts up with her and would be quite happy for her to disappear forever so he too could be an OnlyKat. I know this because he frequently asks what it is like to be The Only)
And so I am under a Kitteh ASBO.
So wrong. So very, very wrong!
