Felix Domesticus

That good for nothing layabout Thutmose was released from custody yesterday. The humans decided that he had been incarcerated enough and now was as good a time to see if he had amended his wayward ways.

Upon his release, he took Berenike for a walk around the local neighbourhood, then he and his family spent the night playing tag and climbing trees. They came in this morning for breakfast before going out again. I can’t help wondering how he would be after a long stretch.

So, did the humans’ experiment work? Well, yes, it does rather look as if it has. So we queens have to put up with another ragamuffin tomcat lurking about the place.

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Cats love windows. They are a place to look out at the outside world and observe without getting wet and cold and without being seen. They also provide a toy in the form of blinds, as Arsinoe has been learning…

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Ahmose had the snip this week, so the humans are keeping her indoors as well as Thutmose, until the wound heals properly. Oddly, rather than hisses and irritable spats, the two have rubbed along rather well and Thutmose is beginning to get along with his daughters. Well, he still denies any responsibility, but that’s no news… And he does get miffed when Berenike takes his spot on the bed.

Well, the humans have got me incarcerated, so I’ll have to make the best of it. I’ll try not to look as if I’m making the most of the “Nautically Nibblies” they are giving me. Hmm, this keyboard stuff isn’t as difficult as that proper little Madam, Nefertiti makes out. I could make a go of this. Seeing as I’m confined, I might as well acquaint myself with all this computer stuff, such as sitting on the scanner. That is what scanners are for, isn’t it?

Mind you, it’s been a long time since I got any window duty in… those other coves keep chasing me away so I have to wander about on the common. Let’s see… hmm… raining today. Maybe I will stop indoors for a little longer.

Oh, yes, what’s all this about two daughters? Nothing to do with me, guv, honest. You don’t expect me to recall a brief encounter nearly six months ago, do you? It was all Ahmose’s fault anyway, tarting about encouraging me, like… She should’ve taken precautions. I’m not admitting anything without a paternity test. CSA*, you say? Nope, not me, guv. Thutmose? No that must be the other grey cat - three doors down, you can’t miss him; his eyes are too close together; untrustworthy cove that one.

*CSA - for non UK citizens: Child Support Agency. They chase up absentee fathers and make them pay maintenance.

Thutmose had gone semi feral. Consequently the humans decided that some time as a house cat was in order. At the moment he is power sleeping upstairs, which leaves one to wonder just what it is he gets up to when he disappears for days at a time over on the common. His daughters tried to make his acquaintance but were treated to the scowl and growl response. Not that they were fazed by this, Cleo has been warming them up for it with her hisses and scowls since they were born.

Mind you, the longer he stays in, the more of the old tarty Thutmose is revealed. Reluctantly, I have to admit that he’s a fine cat with a friendly nature - for a Tom…

The humans have returned. The cheeky blighters expect us to behave as if nothing has happened, like we weren’t abandoned for two weeks. Hah! Well, I did elicit a tickle behind the ear and Berenike did nuzzle their faces. When she nipped their noses they complained though.

I’m pleased to announce that our French Connection is busy training up the next generation of recruits:

Collective Noun

Thanks to Kat for correctly pointing out that the collective noun for cats is a clowder or clutter. Also, there are the following:
Glaring, pounce, dout and nuisance. Curiously, the humans tend to use the latter rather a lot. I wonder why?

Window duty is a serious business. Well, for those of us who take things like duty seriously, it is. Bast is frequently discovered asleep at her post. The game is usually given away when upon entering the room to take over duty, there is a loud snoring emanating from the direction of the window.
Hatsheput is modelling the ideal window duty position in the picture below. Notice the alert posture, ears pricked whiskers twitching as she watches across the street outside looking for any raiding parties of strange cats.

The humans are away at the moment. They think I don’t know where they are. However, I am well aware of their whereabouts in southern France. Indeed, I know the exact location. This is due to the Feline Bureau of Intelligence. This is a worldwide intelligence gathering organisation dedicated to the eventual feline domination of the world by stealth - and free catfood for life. The FBI is not to be confused with that other organisation; the Canine Intelligence Agency - which isn’t. They spend rather more time sniffing bums than is entirely healthy as well as running round in circles and slobbering over people. Such activities get in the way of effective intelligence gathering. Anyway, come the revolution, all dogs will be enslaved to do our bidding - as is only proper…

Oh, sorry, getting a bit carried away there. The FBI has a French connection and our agent in southern France is a calico cat codenamed Honey (Miel). Unbeknown to the humans who think she is just being friendly when she goes into their house and scrounges milk, she is gathering vital information on their activities and feeding it back to the spymaster general - that’s me, in case you hadn’t worked it out.

So, we know exactly where they are and there is no escape. The French Connection is keeping us well informed.

Cats are not dogs. Dogs are rufty tufty knockabout oafs. Friendly enough but far too familiar. They also lack dignity. I dread to think what they roll around in, I just know it smells like something died. Cats on the other hand understand deportment. We cats are dignified creatures. We look upon canine brutes with considered disdain - as they deserve. You won’t find cats doing anything undignified…

I said; cats are dignified creatures… Oh, never mind…