Felix Domesticus

“I have a Gumbie Cat in mind, her name is Jennyanydots; Her coat is of the tabby kind, with tiger stripes and leopard spots. All day she sits upon the stair or on the steps or on the mat; She sits and sits and sits - and that’s what makes a Gumbie Cat.” (The old Gumbie Cat by T.S. Eliot)
Bast is the mother of four of our extended family. She is also a cat with a serious attitude. Which, I suppose, is why her three daughters also have a bad attitude. Bast (aka Baz) will spend most of her day sitting on things. Laps are the preferred option if she can secure one. Indeed, when the ape-people are wanting to use their computers, Baz will rush ahead of them, bounding gracelessly up the stairs to the computer room, leap (flollup) onto the side (which is an achievement given her lack of aerodynamic shape, I can tell you) and tramples across the keyboard - whereupon the ape-person will lift her bodily onto his or her lap. Mission accomplished.
Her attitude to other cats is one of “this is my place” and enter it at your peril. Those who do will be swiftly boxed on the ears and greeted with a loud hiss. If it’s Caesar, then an extra loud, long hiss is in order and possibly a hefty clout with claws extended - and he’s her brother.
She has a penchant for the bed. This can be a problem - so too do I and I am the boss. Baz sometimes forgets this little nicety and dares to hiss in my direction. I give her short shrift, I can tell you. I don’t take any nonsense from little tabby cats with a big attitude, you just see if I don’t!

I always think this picture makes her look like a little Buddha. Don’t be fooled, this cookie is dozing with her eyes open. The snoring tends to give things away.
Well, that’s me done for a couple of days.
Nefertiti.

I have talked about my experiments for determining the physical nature of the universe. Of course the ape-people will have you believe that one of their ancestors Isaac Newton did all of this years ago.? Well, what they don’t tell you is that he had a cat. Who do you think knocked things off for him to watch them fall? Well it wasn’t magic, was it? Cats discovered the existence of gravity. And if it wasn’t for his cat, he would never have managed to work out the spectrum of light - we did that. That is why Isaac Newton made the first catflap - with guidance, of course - to enable his cat to move freely about the experimentation area and give guidance and direction. Someone had to show him how to position his prisms.

Ahem… getting a bit carried away there….

Now, if you want to check out my experiments, this is how you do it. Get up onto a suitable surface. Don’t worry if the ape-types tell you not to, this makes it all the more interesting. Now, find a suitable object. Something that will make a lot of noise when it lands will be ideal. A tiled floor below is even better. I particularly like keys and spectacles as they make a nice jingly sound. Now, extend one claw and carefully hook it under the object. Look around you to make sure that there is an audience and purposefully drag the object with your claw to the edge of the surface and watch it drop. This should elicit gasps of admiration from the ape-types (or did they say it was exasperation?) accompanied by a satisfying noise on landing.

You have just proved that gravity exists. Feel free to practice this at home.

“You may think I am as mad as a hatter when I tell you, a cat must have three different names.” The Naming of Cats - T.S. Eliot.

Thutmose has three different names. Usually refered to as Thutmose greytoes - because he has a grey toe on each foot - he is also referred to by a number of less, shall we say, complimentary names. “Miserable bugger” being the latest. Thutmose was a promising kitten for a tom - indeed, I had high hopes for him as he readily lent himself to such tasks as exploring the attic. I’ve included a picture below - you can just about see me offering useful instruction.

Thutmose managed to avoid the dreaded snip for three years. The people who share our abode wanted him to father some kittens, so put off the inevitable until he had done his duty. Well, he did that alright. Ahmose now has two kittens and Berenike is the image of Thutmose - there’s no guessing paternity with that one. Indeed, she is starting to show his attitude as well.

Anyway, I digress. Thutmose is a wanderer. Some tom cats are and that’s all there is about it. It became the norm for him to disappear for a day or two at a time and the people got used to it and shrugged it off. “Oh,” they would say, “that’s just him being a tom cat.” Then he disappeared for three weeks. That changed their tune, I can tell you. They were worried, we could tell. They would sit at their computers tapping in his details to lost cat searches and making telephone calls. All because the randy charlatan was off getting his end away with some tart down the road, no doubt. Then three and a half weeks later he wanders in bright and breezy and twice as ugly with that arrogant yowl of his, demanding dinner like nothing had happend.

That was the final straw for the people - they wisked him down to the vets before you could say “Nefertiti is a very fine cat indeed” and he had the snip. Did that change him? Did it buggery! He still wanders off and they still treat him like royalty when he deigns to honour them with his presence. The more aloof he is with them, the more they fawn for his attention. And they still say what a fine cat he is and what a delightful grey coat he has. I’m missing a trick here, I think.

Added to all of this, he now wants to establish himself at the top of the hierarchy. Damn cheek! I am the top cat around here. He even had the effrontery to chase me up the garden the other day. He chased ME! A quick boxing of his ears put paid to that little game, I can tell you. We’ll be having none of that around here, thank you very much.

Oh, well, that’s enough about that upstart. I’ve got cupboards to check and things to knock off the cabinets.

T.S Eliot tells us that kittens these days are just not trained. “Now, these kittens, they do not get trained as we did in the days when Victoria reigned. They never get drilled in a regular troupe, and they think they are smart, just to jump through a hoop.” (From Gus: The Theatre Cat.) Well, in the Nefertiti Academy for Wayward Kittens, they certainly are. Graduates can climb trees, catch all sorts of woodland animals, keep inventories of the cupboards and carry out scientific experiments to prove the existence of gravity using keys, spectacles and ornaments (failing that, anything that comes within claw reach will do).

I’ve been watching the development of Ahmose’s kittens very closely these past five weeks. This is an important matter. As the matriarch, their education is of prime concern to me. That they are both queens is a good sign. I don’t usually waste effort trying to educate the toms - they make poor micecatcher generals and their investigative instincts are non-existent. As for tree climbing. oh, please, spare me…

Now, of the two kittens, Arsinoe (the tortoishell kitten) is perhaps the least equipped for the tasks I have in mind. She is a dear, but somewhat slow. Berenike (the black and white kitten) is the the one already showing good invesitgative instincts - just like her mother, she will be an excellent learner. She has already grasped the significance of keys. Excellent, excellent. This kitten will go places, just you wait and see. Of course, if their mother wasn’t so possessive, matters would be simpler…

Here are some pictures of the kittens in training:

And their mother, Ahmose in repose…

Well, that’s enough from me for one day - I’ve got far too much to be doing to spend time chatting to you lot. Things to do, places to go, folk to see. Busy, busy, busy.

Caesar is one of our three tom cats. Now, Toms are darlings really and I wouldn’t be without them, but they are rather useless about the house. There is a reason for this. Toms keep their brains in their balls and you know what happens to those…

So after six months, they become brainless dollops who lounge about the place contributing nothing but good looks. Which brings me to Caesar. Narcissism in a mackeral tabby coat is our Caesar. Of course, getting his picture displayed in the local camera shop didn’t help matters.

He was about two years old when he posed for this picture and so taken by it was the local processing shop that they kept a copy for their display. Did we hear the last of it? Did we indeed ever! Ever since that picture he preens about asking “Am I looking good today?” Then giving us the answer… “I’m looking good…”

As decoration Caesar is perfect. As a contributor to the household his usefulness is limited, I can tell you. Ask him to catch a mouse or climb a tree and he wouldn’t want to risk messing up his coat. Yet everyone loves him. Well, everyone except his sister, Bast and nieces, who will clip his ear and hiss at him just to put him in his place…

Sometimes I don’t understand just what it is he does that annoys them so much. Apart, that is, from just poncing into the room looking good.

Bye for now

This is my first entry to a new blog. By cats for cats. I’m Nefertiti, named after the famous Queen of ancient Egypt. I’m the matriarch of the group and I run things pretty much around here. As cats go, I’m of the more intelligent, though I do say so myself. Well, you have to be to keep ten other cats in order; and my, don’t they need it. I’m forever chasing around just keeping the place together. I really don’t know how people would manage without me. Well, they wouldn’t and that’s all there is to say on the matter. Modesty never got a cat anywhere, I always say. I’m also proof that intelligence and good looks are achievable in the same cool cat. Of course that upstart Caesar (more of him later) will have you believe otherwise.

As time goes on I’ll introduce you to the rest of the tribe. Although, I really don’t see why I should bother - after all, it’s me you will want to know about. I am, after all, the boss - and don’t you forget it.

This is me - just so’s you know who to look out for.

Bye for now

Nefertiti