Sweety claws - the females strike back.
I am sorry about the weekend lull, Barbara. Until you mentioned it, I didn’t realise I was having one. My doctor says he can fit me in on Thursday.
My weekend was spent chasing Sweety Claws around with a tape-recorder, but all I got was ’iwannaplayiwannaplayiwannaplay...’. So finally I gave her the machine and let her do it herself.
SWEETY CLAWS - THE FEMALES STRIKE BACK
The Red Mum can’t have kittens anymore. She breaks out in hot sweats in the middle of the night. Warmest place to sleep in the whole house. I could have kittens if I wanted to. I haven’t decided yet.
Old Grumpy (Big Boy, ed.) won’t let me out at night anyway. Don’t know why, his friends seem to like me. If I stick my head out of the cat door for longer than a quick pee, I get chased all over the house by the Grumpinator and he doesn’t stop until he catches me.
Once I was forced to sit in the same chair for three hours. It’s not fair. Just because I want to have a little fun. All the other cats my age are allowed to go to parties.
I don’t think Furry face and the Red Mum would mind having a bunch of kittens round the place. They like kids. But whenever the subject comes up, Grumpesen puts on a face and mutters something like - ’Half a dozen of these running round the place? I’d sooner go throw myself under a mouse!’
He’s full of sarcastic comments. Jealous, I think. Just because I’m beautiful. Like when he says he hates me ’right down to the black roots of your blonde whiskers’. I’ll have you know my roots are genuine.
There’s no need for Grumpo di Tutti Grumpi to take it out on me just because his fur is full of holes. He can’t sit down without 45 mins of licking first. My fur is self-maintaining. I have natural shine.
And its not my fault if I didn’t do good at school. Il Grumpissimo was supposed to teach me. I tried to stay close and follow his example, but he doesn’t like being stayed close to. So I made up my own games.
Talk about a party-pooper, nothing pleases that cat. I thought ’Oooh, big strong hunter, I’ll pick up some good tips here, but oh no. If I do finally get him to stop preening for a second and join in a good game of cat n’ mouse, Old Grumpa is out of breath after the first couple of jumps. I haven’t had any real training.I’ve spent lots of time watching him lick himself and sleep, but paws-on experience - nada.
And by the way, why do I only get half as much food as he does? I work ten times harder. Why did they get me if they don’t want to feed me?
I just don’t feel respected as an individual. Just because I’m female and small doesn’t mean I can’t be the boss some day. Megagrump is getting too old for the job anyway. He should be glad of the help.
Anyway, its time to let the girls take over. The old way of fighting for territory and getting clawed to pieces is a waste of time. And it makes a mess of your fur.
Females know, y’ know? If you want to create peace and harmony in the neighbourhood, you can achieve much more with the tail-first approach. They’re not such bad guys.
It’s dark now.
If I could just get outside ...
