Ginger Cat

Goodness me, Readers, look what naughty Gingercat did recently! One minute the kitchen was fairly tidy, the next there was an overflowing bin tipped over and rubbish dragged all over the shop. Just look at Gingercat – posing with his handiwork. That cat has more front than Blackpool. I was disgusted by his behaviour. There was even an empty box of Covid Test kits amongst the mess – I mean, what on earth was Gingercat thinking? (Friends, I know the empty Covid Test box should have been in Cardboard Recycling, not the bin, but standards are increasingly shoddy round here. Bad luck, planet.)

Gingercat really does need to think about his behaviour. He drives me insane with the yowling every time he has been fed and then immediately forgets he’s been fed – honestly, it goes on and on. Plus he’s taken to sleeping in my chair recently, which is unacceptable. I’m working up the courage to give him a piece of my mind, but I’m not quite there yet. Gingercat has sharp claws.

Readers, if any of you Doubting Thomases are thinking that it was me that trashed the kitchen, I am very hurt.

Well as usual it’s been ages since my last blog. In fact, last time I wrote it was my birthday. I had some lovely treats from my special friends dear, dear Ebony and dear, dear Pippa and I even had a little present from the neighbours. What do you think my own family bought me for my tenth birthday? That’s right. Nothing. She was far too busy and couldn’t be bothered, Lad is away at university and Young Lad was, er, on the Xbox. It’s dreadful, Friends, the lack of concern for my welfare. Thank goodness for New Buddy, who saved the day by taking me to PetsRVetsRus or whatever it’s called and spending a small fortune on me. I had a marvellous time, Readers, sliding my body under the counters and cleaning up all the spilt biscuits and food. For a dog of my advanced years, it’s amazing how supple I can be if there’s a gravy bone underneath a low counter. I had such fun in PetsRVetsRus, and I was very glad that every time She said, “No, he doesn’t need that,” New Buddy totally ignored her and bought it anyway. Oh there were biscuits, bones, a special travelling water bottle, a new MASSIVE Kong toy….I wasn’t so keen on the flea treatment or the muzzle but I let it go.

New Buddy continues to be the best thing since sliced bread, as far as I’m concerned, as he actually bothers to do things like brush and comb me, and lets me sleep uninterrupted in sunny spots round the house and garden. He does NOT make me go out for walks that I don’t want to go on, and has a similar view to my own of what weekends are for. This involves sleeping and relaxation rather than hiking through the countryside. Far more sensible. Any form of exercise should be limited to walking to a nice cafe for brunch. We tend to do this a lot.

That reminds me! Last time I was at the nice cafe with New Buddy and She for brunch, the lovely lady who works there took my photo, as she was starting a “Dog of the Month” thing on their Facebook page. I am meant to be the very first Dog of The Month because I am so handsome. (And go there a lot.) I must check out their Facebook page to see if I feature yet. I tried hard to look really beguiling in the photo. Pack Leader said I looked suicidal as usual.

It’s been hectic round here, as usual, with Very Long Hours at work and a Heavy Workload, which means there is no time to give me any attention whatsoever. Added to this, it is Mock Exam week for Young Lad this week, so you can imagine what the lead-up has been like….. Young Lad is not awfully keen on the idea of revision, and rather views revising Anglo Saxon History in much the way I view having my anal glands emptied.

Talking of which, She dragged me to the Evil Vet last night for my six-weekly manicure. But I was tricked, Friends! Not only did I have my claws clipped, but once I was in my muzzle and there was no escape, I also had my fatty lumps felt, my anal glands drained (they were VERY full), and my teeth looked at because my breath stinks apparently. Oh I was SO cross. Fancy having all these indignities thrust upon you when you aren’t prepared. I was so annoyed. I did, however, accept the treat that the Evil Vet gave me for being so good.

Nobody ever takes She to have her fatty lumps looked at, and there are plenty of them.

The kitchen smells divine tonight, Friends, as She has been frantically baking for something on at work tomorrow. There are cheesecakes, fruit cake, cookies…. I made sure that I lay across the kitchen floor for the hour and a half of baking activity so that I was completely in the way and able to catch any mixture that dropped. I was sworn at and told I’m a nuisance. Nice.

Well, I haven’t seen Lad for a few weeks but I’m sure he is very busy at university. Nobody is ever entirely sure what he’s so busy doing; both New Buddy and She remember their own days at university and can’t recall ever being busy. But there you go, Lad is very underestimated. I hope Lad comes home over the Easter holidays so I can catch up with him – we do miss Lad, in a strange sort of way.

Young Lad, apart from the stress and trauma that is GCSE Mock week, has also been very busy recently – yes, really – in the kitchen. It suddenly became apparent that Young Lad was meant to have planned, cooked, evaluated and practised several dishes for a meal. Young Lad hadn’t quite got round to any of this. So there were ten days of a VERY tense atmosphere, a lot of snapping and snarling such endearing comments like, “chop it FASTER!!! FASTER!!!! Use TWO hands for the love of God!!” and so on. Poor Young Lad. To be fair, the dishes he cooked tasted absolutely divine and She suddenly stopped moaning at him as She shovelled them down her gullet. Young Lad cooked chilli bbq king prawns, roast cod with fennel and orange, mini garlic sauteed potatoes, and chocolate fondant. Well done, Young Lad.

Nobody gave me any of this to taste, and I feel my feedback would have been useful.

Well, Friends, it has been a long day and I really do need to settle down for the night. My anal glands are cleared out, nails trimmed, fatty lumps felt and teeth examined – but my proudest moment was standing on the scales at the Evil Vet’s. In fact I ran straight over and stood on the scales as soon as we went in the room – that’s how cooperative and well-behaved I am. My weight has stayed the same for a long time now, and I am at the better end of my range. Pack Leader said something ridiculous like, “ooh a proud Mummy moment” but I can’t for the life of me see how She can take the credit for this. Obviously the contents of the bin haven’t been very calorific lately. I must try harder.

I hope you’re all well, Friends, in our strange world and strange times.

See you soon,


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