TV is great

Mr Man and Mr woman like to watch TV sometimes. They like someone called David Attenburrow, but Mr Man finds his programmes so interesting he has to close his eyes and think about the programme for a long time.

I like Mr Attenburrow's programmes too. Sometimes they have bears in them but mostly they don't. Here's me learning about insects. I like insects. I like the crunchy wrapping.

Signed off

Back from my fan club. Five of them this time. They prodded me, poked me, picked me up and shouted "Indy boy" in my ear, stuck cold things in unmentionable places and generally adored me. Still, at least they didn't try to stick in needles in me and I overheard them saying that I was being signed off the sick so I guess it's back to work for me. No more being driven around in a cage while "Ms Man" makes grinding noises and explains that she would "never buy a kia." Cat of little brain keeps insisting that Ms Man buys from Ikea all the time and much though I've tried to explain the difference between a Swedish shop and a korean car, he doesn't really get it.

Out in the cold

Mr Man's out in the cold. At least, I think that's what's happening. It's a bit hard to understand him right now. He keeps sniffing and sneezing and Ms Man made chicken soup - for him! Not me!

When I get left out in the cold, I let Mr Man and Ms Man know they've accidentally shut me out by telling them I'm outside, as loudly as I can. Mr Man, though, can't speak very loudly at all just now so maybe that's why he'd out in the cold? I wish Mr Indy could speak. I'm sure he understands all this, but he never says anything.

It's all very confusing.

Ms Man says Mr Man has a man-cold, and he's invited some germs over for a while. Germs? Is Hitler cat coming to stay?

Goodbye Bob

Bob was a neighbourhood character. Big-boned, extravagantly fluffy and not all there. Ash would spend hours watching him through the window and half the world petted him as they passed by the house. Sadly Bob fell victim to yet another car driver who couldn't be bothered to stop.

Bob will be missed by many around here.

Confused

OK so the last few months have been very confusing. First Mr Man took to wearing a skirt. That was odd and I tell you I got real shock the first time I looked up. Gave me nightmares afterwards; no wonder they took me and Mr Desh to have THAT operated on. Shudder.

Then both of them kept telling me that joy was coming to the flat and they were leaving me. Leaving me! How could they do that! Mind you, at least I didn't have to worry about Mr Man and that strange dangly furry thing he started wearing. It was so white and fluffy that Indy kept checking his tail to make sure nothing was being nicked.

And then they did leave me. With Anti-Joy. Deaf Anti-Joy who couldn't hear me when I kept trying to tell her that I was locked in the living room and it was 4 o'clock and I needed first breakfast.

Then to top it all, they came back without a word of explanation and now apparently Mr Woman is Ms Man. I haven't been able to blog since because my head hurts so much that I have to sleep in order to have deep thoughts. Just like Mr Man.

Letting the wrong one in

This is me in watch cat mode. Mr Man has been complaining ever since those nice men came in and took away some of his stuff and some of Mr Woman's stuff too. Kept saying Indy and I were supposed to fight off someone called Berg Lurrs. Mr Indy says that this Berg person might be Swedish. The men didn't say their name but they did take away the IKEA bag and Indy says that's Swedish.


Indy knows lots of things due to his time in the war. He doesn't talk much about it. Actually he doesn't talk much about anything due to not being able to talk but he does mime and lashes his tail a lot to make his point. But anyway he mimes that when he was in the war before I knew him he had all sort of secret missions but then lost his memory. All he has left is a dog tag with "Weapon I" on it. I would have thought it would have been a cat tag but he's never let me see it. I would like a cat tag, especially if it was glittery and shiny like Mr Woman's finger.

Think I'll go to sleep now. Out of practice with blogging and it's making me tired and I think I've forgotten what I was going to write about.

A word from our sponsors

Well, ok, they're not our sponsors but a quick comment about Pet Plan insurance.

When we got Indy from the SSPCA he came with 6 weeks insurance from Pet Plan which could be extended into a full policy. At the time we didn't pay much attention to that fact. Like a lot of people we had a vague theory that we would simply save enough to pay a few hundred quid for any vet bills. Like a lot of people, we had the impression that pet insurance was basically a huge scam that rarely paid out and even when it did so, the excess was so high that it was meaningless.

How wrong we were and how close we were to costing Indy in his life. About 4 weeks into having him he was struck down by a life-threatening illness - pyothorax. He ended being rushed into the "Dick Vet" (Royal "Dick" Vetinarary School). It was touch and go but he survived after many days in an oygen tent and a lot of intense follow-up treatment. Even now he still gets his twice-daily puffer and is likely to do so for life. Our poor, if inordinantly fluffy, cat is a "respiratory cripple."

Because we had cover and it could be extended, the insurance paid all of the fees and continues to pay for his follow-up treatment and subsequent complications. Because we have a decent policy with life time condition and annual budget, we are confident that we can deal with whatever might happen to him. He's been through at least three lives that we know of already.

Thing is, Pet Plan didn't just do the minimum. A few months after we extended his policy into a full yearly one, we received, unasked for, a refund cheque for one of the excesses. The letter said that although it was technically correct to ask for an excess for each "year," they felt the events were so close together that it wouldn't be fair to charge us the excess twice. So they took the initiative to refund one of them.

We pay about a tenner a month for Indy's policy and we don't begrudge a penny. So far his treatment has cost in the region of £5,000 and the insurers have paid out for it. Without insurance we could not have afforded the treatment. Indy can't speak but we can. Insurance companies get a bad press but in this case, this company has come up trumps and we both believe that if a company does something to be praised, it should be praised.

Remarkable

Remarkably enough I have enjoyed more than an hour without being made to eat a pill, drink the yellow milk or even being puffed. If only the little, grey pest wasn't hurtling around the place like a jumping bean with St Vitus' Dance, my life would be almost tolerable.

Update. I was wrong. They found something else. Held me down and doused the back of my neck with some sort of chemical. Now, everywhere I go, flies drop dead. Tried sneaking up on that fat pigeon again but it could smell me coming. Rats.

My Big Furry Friend

This is me and Mr Indy hanging out together. You can see the way he likes to look all big and fluffy and how much he likes to chill with me. He still doesn't talk much, due to the "war wounds" and the humans do give him lots of pretty coloured pills as well as the special face mask thing. They never give me pills. Mr Indy keeps offering to let me have some; sometimes he holds onto them in his cheek pockets for ages and leaves them for me. They never taste too good by that point but I don't mind because it just proves how much Mr Indy likes me.

Though sometimes his head bobbles and his eyes get all wide then I have to hide because he attacks the house.

Ash reporting in

It's cold and snowy out there. No way is it fit for a cat of my sensy, sensya um me. And Mr Man and Mr Woman are making it hard for me to blog because they keep going off and doing things and making something they call a "wedding blog."


I've no idea how anything can be more important than helping me blog. I might have to give that some deep thought on Mr Man's academic chair. Mr Man always thinks best when his eyes are closed so there's no distractions and as Mr Man is the brainiest human in the universe then I better copy him.

Oh and Mr Indy's back on his fat pills. He keeps waddling all over the place taking about water retention and how he would give Felix a good thumping if only he could squeeze out of the window.

That's all for now. Back to thinking. Ash signing out.

regal

If I say so myself, I'm a mighty fine hunk of a cat.

Catching up

I haven't been doing much blogging for a while and I have been told I better catch up. I've been too busy getting into television so here's some photos.

This is Indy. He's still my bestest friend though he doesn't do much these days. He has to keep going to see his German friend at the Dick Vet. Each time he comes back he has a new hair cut as well. It's not fair. The humans don't take me for pampering like that. Anyway, he doesn't like having his photo taken because he's not as photwhatsit as me.


And this is Jiminy. He lives next door and I don't think he's very clever. Not like Scamp - she's brainy.

Proof!

They all said I was mad to wait by the curtains all those times but I knew my mother was there all along.

It's in black and white

This koo business is starting to confuse me and, I'll have you know, I'm not easily confused. You see my humans went to see a koo so I thought they were bringing back a friend for Mr Indy. But this koo is black and white.
Apparently it's a Ger Man as well and not a kuh at all. Scamp, my friend from outside who fancies me said "ceci n'est-pas un kuh" because she's really brainy. Thing is, if it's a Ger Man then Mr Indy will like it because he it will remind of him of Anita vet. Then again it's black and white like evil Hitler cat so Mr Indy will have to fight it! What's a little cat to think?

Credit crunch?

Are Mr Man and Mr Woman getting desperate? I've heard them talking about the credit crunch, but I think that sounds biscuity and delicious, and it makes me hungry. I hope they're not going to run out of money. I've heard Mr Man threatening to buy cheap Tesco cat food, but Mr Woman won't let him.




He did pimp me on teh interwebs though. And now he's pimping Deshar! He'll never pimp Mr Indy, though. He's not flexible enough to turn upside down.