It’s been ages since I got to write a blog post. By the cat gods, Ellen can be so mean. You’ve all missed me, right?
But I suppose life has been same old same old… Eat. Sleep. Scratch. Growl.
Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of growling. Ellen’s developed this incredibly annoying habit of inviting people over on Tuesday evenings to sing with her.
Late. Like, 10pm. At that time I AM ASLEEP. The LAST thing I want is a few women
howling singing as though they actually thought they sounded good.
And they wonder why I growl and hiss at them.
Anyway, today I’m bringing you some highlights of my most excellent blog, Feline in Therapy, which is now (alas) lying dormant. Such a shame.
Let me take you back to January 2007, when I was youthful cat of five, all full of energy and devilry…
1 January – Morning sickness
Chucked up my breakfast again this morning. I wish Ellen would remember not to give me a whole scoop of food in one go! I forget to eat it slowly and I make myself sick.
It’s much better if she feeds me less food, but more often. After all, she eats at least five times a day. Why can’t I?
14 January – Butterfly effect
Last night I captured a butterfly and left it on the rug for Ellen to see. She thinks I meant it for a present, but that’s a common misconception. Cats don’t give presents. In truth, I left it there for a laugh to see what she’d do. It was quite disappointing really. She just picked it up by the wing and dropped it in the rubbish.
It certainly wasn’t as good as when I left a dead rodent there last year. I will never forget her reaction that time!
But perhaps she’s becoming immune to butterflies? The thing is, they’re so much fun to catch. And this time of year, they’re everywhere. Ah well, maybe I’d better see whether I can find another rodent . . .
15 January – Bloodquest
This evening I attacked Ellen and drew blood. Mainly on her hands, but some on her ankles as well.
She’s such a sook.
18 January – Jeckle and Hyde
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just gave Ellen a big cuddle, then sunk my teeth into her wrist. I couldn’t help it!
Maybe I really do need therapy.
21 January – An apology
I was very ungracious yesterday. Ellen’s little niece Hannah came to visit, bringing me toys she’d made herself out of coloured pipecleaners. They were beautiful, and I couldn’t help watching as she rolled them across the floor. But I was sleeping and sulking, fed up with the rain that was keeping me indoors and out of my garden. So I didn’t get up to play with them.
Hannah is really rather adorable, and she always comes to say hello to me. But I just don’t know how to act with other people! They always want to stroke me and touch me and talk to me. Usually, I just want them to leave me alone.
I lashed out at Hannah when she came to say goodbye. I wish I hadn’t done that. Now she’ll really be scared of me. I’m glad I didn’t actually get her. She looked very sombre. Do you think she’ll still be my friend?
24 January – Chenna before keyboard
I long ago worked out that if I sit on top of Ellen’s keyboard, she can’t do anything about it. It makes her do one of two things:
- she either shoves the keyboard away under her computer (there’s a drawer) and allows me to smooch her;
- or she sits back and allows me to sit on her lap while she tries to type.
Either way, I can chew on her wrist. This evening, I sit on her lap as she types this, chewing her wrist. It’s a sign of love and endearment, don’t you know?
28 January – Five star kitty
I’ve been very good recently. Only the occasional wrist-gnawing and breakfast-chucking (can cats be bullemic?) episode.
This morning, I was very kind to Ellen. She was reading in bed and I crawled in under the quilt and snuggled into her side. Like a little hot water bottle.
I have attacked her feet a few times though. I can’t be good all the time.
And I think I chased Oscar out of the garden as well.
But I have spent a lot of time on Ellen’s lap. Surely that makes up for everything?
Holy cat gods, just reading through this makes me realise how mellow I’ve become in my middle years.
Must. Put. In. More. Of. An. Effort.
If you’d like more Diary of a Devilcat, please lobby Ellen to let me have the floor more often!
2 thoughts on “Diary of a devilcat: Eat. Sleep. Scratch. Growl.”
I could probably take or leave more devil cat diaries, but Aeolyn insisted that I let you know she wants more and is eagerly awaiting the next instalment!
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Cats don’t seem to love it when humans make music. My friend Turi just earned a degree in vocal performance, and her cat Zamboni perfected the “Must you?” glare whenever she’d try to rehearse. The closest I ever came to that at Chez Rancourt was when my daughter was an infant. When I had friends over to rehearse music for a wedding, she’d cry whenever we sang out of tune.
From the mouths of babes…
And geez, Ellen, let the cat blog sometimes. It might save your wrists some wear & tear.