Back to the cat theme.

As you know, I think cats are a bit mental.

However, I have discovered some uses for them. The best one being practising my sheep herding with them. There is also stealing their food and I've tried hairdressing with my cat. He didn't like the sheepie spit mohawk hair style I gave him though and it took me quite a while to detach his claws and teeth from my front leg. I think it was his attempt at revenge but I couldn't feel a thing, except that the leg was heavier when I walked, so eventually I got sick of dragging a cat around like a ball and chain and made a concerted effort at removing him.

But the latest use for cats, that I've discovered, is that they're are not bad at "the staring game".

This game involves the cat and I sitting a goodly distance apart and staring at each other. But there is more to it than meets the eye. While I'm staring at the cat I am sending subconscious thoughts at his teeny, tiny brain telling him to "Run, run while you still can!" And he sits and stares at me and tries to deflect the power of my thoughts and NOT run. 

To give him due credit, some days he actually not half bad at it and we sit and stare at each other for minutes on end, until he finally gives in and moves and then I chase him. Or until Mum starts in telling me to look at her and leave the cat. For reasons unfathomable to my superior sheepie brain my Mum doesn't like me chasing the cat.

Well, excuse me now I'm off to find my staring partner.

Clean teeth, dirty air.

Mum decided that Rastus and my teeth were looking grubby and neither of us like the stupid doggy toothbrush and toothpaste. In my opinion the only thing that should go in your mouth apart from you tongue is food; and water if you're thirsty. So she said she'd give up trying to brush our teeth - yes!! And get this! Buy us some bones, woo hoo!!!

She went to a place called the market and came back with bags of bones, they smell great. I want to go to the market it must be fantastic if they've got all those bones. They all got divided up and put in the freezer and every couple of days two come out and after a few hours we take them outside and chew, chew, chew. YUM.

Mum was really happy. She says our teeth are looking cleaner, whatever. Who cares it only matters that they look scary when you show them to some bad dude. They don't need to look clean if you ask me. But I don't mind Mum being fussed because it means I get bones to chew on.

The day before yesterday we got a bone that Mum called brisket. Extra yummy with fat on it. I just heard her tell my Dad on the phone that she is NEVER getting it again. You see all the fat upset Rastus's tummy. Not mine, my tummy is perfectly happy. Nearly as happy as my tongue. Well the result of the upset is that Rastus has bad gas.

Sorry understatement of the year. VERY, extremely, awfully bad gas. Mum says she needs a gas mask, the cat has just gone out his cat door. Even Rastus lifted his head and stared at his rear end as if to say "what the heck?" I'm going to go and ask to get let out now.

Ewwwwww. See ya, gotta go in a hurry.

Yum, Yum

There was scotch fillet steak cooked medium rare the other night.

And no one was offering any to me. So I decided to take matters into my own paws. My Mom left her plate on the coffee table and turned her back for a few seconds, plenty long enough for me to snarf down one whole scotch fillet steak.

I am very good at plate snatching, if I do say so myself. I was so quick at stealing the steak and swallowing it down that my Mom didn't even notice me do it. So I got a chance to go back and grab a nice big piece of pumpkin. Not bad either.

At that point my Mum noticed her plate was looking a bit empty and she just caught me doing a final lip lick to hide the evidence. So unfortunately she knew it was me. She was really mad! I don't think it was a big problem, there were still a few veggies left for her.

Snack Van

Woo Hoo!! I've just discovered there's a snack van in my backyard.

My Dad cooks yummy stuff on it but it has a lid so I never get a chance to try the tasty stuff. Well yesterday I discovered something new. There's all tasty grease dripping out of a tray in the bottom. It's dripped down onto the wood at the bottom and through onto the concrete.

So I'm going out regularly to have a little snack. Yummy!

Mum is going crazy about it. When I stick my head in to lick up a tasty little something I get grease all over my face and topknot. She's already gone wild with the potato flour 3 times and now that I've rubbed it all over the top of my nose she says I'll need to have my face bathed.

I think that's going entirely too far myself. So what if there's a bit of brown grease on my face and head. It smells beautiful and is quite decorative.

I'm off to ring my door bells and see if anyone will let me out again. Dad says he's too busy to clean the BBQ, I mean snack van, so I'm set for tasty snacks for a while longer. And Mum's hip is still sore so she can't reach down there. That's why my face isn't bathed yet too. :-)

Birthday Celebrations

Why was I not invited to my Mum's birthday dinner?!

She and my Dad went to a spiffy restaurant on the beach last night. I hear that they sat on a balcony in the balmy breeze watching the ships coming in and out of the bay and sipping champagne cocktails.

Well it's not acceptable! I have no idea what a champagne cocktail tastes like and that's my point really. How am I to find out if I'm not invited? So there was a dress code, I could have put a new bow in my topknot. There was prime Angus steak and lamb cutlets for Pete's sake, how is it possible that I should miss out on that?

I am not amused!

PS there better be a birthday dinner when it's my birthday or I'll have to consider a complaint to the RSPCA!