Sometimes I get really mad...

It is not my intention to use this blog as a political tool, but sometimes things make me really, really angry....


Nature lover bequeaths land for wildlife, but RSPCA sell it for profit.

Welcome to the sick bed...

Last night I had more than a little brandy, a reward for all my hard work.  And also to numb the pain in my neck and back from trying to dig up the rapsberry plants in my garden that I no longer want (yes, I know, that's what painkillers are for, but that's hardly rock and roll now is it?).  The cats did their best to help with the gardening by standing on the garden fork, and digging around the area I was doing my best to clear.  I gave up about halfway through.

So last night in bed, fast asleep, I heard the weather.  When I say weather, I mean wind and rain that makes Armageddon sound like a summer's day.  Which is also possible, this is Britain after all.  It was shortly after being woken up for the first time that I realised the pain in my neck was related to the migraine I was suffering from.  Not good, sleep required.

And so I spent a whole night of being woken up and making me more tired and the migraine worse, on top of the hangover, joy of joys.  But wait, what is this?  Oh, it's my IBS, deciding my body no longer wants food inside it.  

Suffice to say it was not the most restful sleep I've ever had.  I did finally drop off and slept quite soundly....before waking up and thinking I'd had a stroke.  I was completely paralysed from the waist down. I used my arms to push my upper body up and looked down my body...and there it was.  5/6 of a pride of lions.  

Ok, I know, a bit of an exaggeration, being tabbies the boys are more like tigers.  But  they were lying on my legs, and both sides, pulling the duvet tight and rendering me incapable of movement below the waist. Fantastic, perfect excuse to stay in bed.

Tatwo, realising I was awake went off to do what Tatwo does best.  Bump bump bump bump dededededededBANG.  Repeatedly.  I'm not sure if it was louder inside or outside my head.  Demon got up and fed the cats, and while they were eating Stella went outside.  Stella is not impressed by the weather and did her best to let the whole world know, and then shout to be let back in.

Mummy was rung and ordered to bring me lemonade.  Dutifully she came round and sent Demon upstairs with a can for me.

"Here's your lemonade.  I shook it up  a bit coz I forgot it was fizzy so you might want to wait a minute before you open it. See ya!"

I'm not predicting a career in nursing....

I would say just kill me, but it appears that has already happened.

Tsunami!!!

Today we were off out to the field and we saw the Labradoodles ahead of us.

After a sprint Team GB would be impressed by, we caught up with them.

Once we got into the field Stella went offlead, and finally Mr Grumpy let the Labradoodles offlead.  Boy Labradoodle loves Stella very much. Girl Labradoodle just loves running around.  Stella was gobby, so they were in no doubt that The Ball belonged to her.

Girl Labradoodle was hooning around, Stella was hooning around, and then it happened....

Stella tripped over girl Labradoodle, who carried on her way. Stella landed on her belly, legs tucked underneath her....and slid sideways about 4 feet....

...at which point the Tsunami she was causing sprayed Mr Grumpy's legs with muddy water.

Oops! :D

Feeling alarmed...

Demon set her alarm for 6 today.   It went off, woke her, me and half the neighbourhood.  She rolled over, switched it off and promptly fell asleep again.

I, however, did not.  Neither did the cats.

Fantastic, six wide awake IEDs. One fast asleep child. One wide awake mummy.

One mummy being leapt on,  two girlies having a punch up over who is going to be snuggling up to mummy, and curtains swung on until I got up (keep up, Tickles is now Tarzan remember??). 

It's the same at weekends, my new 'lie in' time is now 7am.  0700 hours.  I didn't know there were two 7 o'clocks in one day!!!!

Even Stella sleeps in at the weekend!! 

Operation Wriggly Rescue

Stella enjoyed her walk today, bouncing and hooning around.  We had to detour due to two ducks taking up residence in a puddle in her favourite field, but she was so busy trying to get the milkshake out of a discarded bottle that she failed to notice them.  She was quite interested in the three teenagers who were throwing bags of dog poo at each other, having smashed the bin to pieces.  They noticed our arrival, and decided a free-range German Shepherd was good enough reason to move on.

Demon, meanwhile, was loving the water trickling along the path like a mini river.  Until she found a worm.

Demon: Can worms swim?

Me: No, don't think so, why?

Demon: There's a worm here in the water, that means it's drowning! You have to get it out!

Me: You get it out.

Demon:  Urgh I'm not touching a worm again. Ever!  The last one poohed on me. **

Me: hahahaha yeh that was funny.

I got a bit fed up of picking worms up so Demon found a stick to do it instead.  I went back to Stella to play with her.  From the other side of the field I was kept abreast of worm rescue proceedings...

Demon: OH MY GOD!!  How many worms??!!

*************************************************************************

**Demon, when she was aged about 7 years old, decided she was going to be 'really brave' and pick up a worm.  She chose a long, fat worm.  It was quite peacefully travelling along her hand when she noticed something.

Demon: What's that stuff coming out the end of it?

Me: Which end?

Demon: That end. Is that his bum? 

At this point I couldn't speak for laughing.

Demon: Is it...? EEEUURRGGHH is it pooing on me???  It is isn't it?!?!

I nodded.  Demon flipped out and started squealing in horror.  The worm had flying lessons.

Nature...better than television!

All change...

The aminools are still letting their personalities come out.  

Tickles has stopped thinking he's a hamster.  He now thinks he's Tarzan and regularly swings from the towels hanging on the door.  I love having a tug of war while I'm trying to dry after a shower.  Honestly, I do....

Summer thinks she's an ear muff, I often wake up with one ear warmer than the other, it's a bit disconcerting to find your ear vibrating. Purrs sound so much louder when they're giving you hearing damage.

Stella thinks she's a toddler.  We went to the quagmire and she was over the moon to discover her best friends were back.  Helloooooooooooooooooooooooooo puddles!!  She was throwing her head back, dashing through them to make waves and generally bouncing around like a Spring lamb on crack.

Tatwo thinks he's a tiger and suspect he was the cause of the dead bird in the house the other day.  Not a mark on it, so where the hell did all the feathers come from?  Tatwo, I'd better not find a dead bird under my bed!!!!!!!!

I haven't found out which one has decided to be the paper shredder though....

Scent from Heaven...

Dear Stella

I don't mind washing your cushion covers. Or your bed cover. Or your blankies.

But I wish you'd remember that the reason it stinks so badly is because you KEEP GOING IN THE STINKY WATER AND THE STINKY, MUDDY PUDDLES!!!!!!!!!!

Do NOT lie on my lovely rug because your bed stinks.  I will not be impressed.

And stop farting at me because it stinks...

Love

Mum x

Seasons come and go...

Once upon a time I rescued a white kitten, he was semi feral and totally in love with my GSD Sheba.  Nobody else could get near him for a good while, he had used up several of his 9 lives already and would only answer to his original name despite being only around 4 months old.   As the seasons progressed I found myself out in the garden frantically shouting him to come in as it was snowing and starting to come down thick and fast.   After about 2 or 3 minutes I realised that the neighbours probably thought I'd lost the plot.

His name was Snowy.

Recently we've been informed that the UK is in a drought, and it's done nothing but rain since. Which makes it great fun shouting the one and only cat who hates to be inside if there is daylight left....

That's right, in the middle of a downpour or hail shower, I'm in the garden shouting Summer...

Wildcats....

Last night Demon went to Grannie Annies, which meant I could enjoy a lie-in.  The cats had other ideas...

They cats were doing their level best to wake me up early, so in retaliation I did my level best to ignore them. Until Tatwo decided to get his lower jaw stuck in his collar (no, I have no idea either) and start bouncing around the bedroom like an animal possessed and screaming in terror. It took a rugby tackle, a blanket, a dressing gown and a whole lot of bravery to hold him down while I pulled it off.

Bit extreme Tatwo...

Happy Half anniversary Stella!!!!

Exactly 6 months ago today I formally adopted Stella. She was rescued heavily pregnant and how the ladies collecting her  managed not to speak their minds to the old owners I have no idea. Stella had eaten the contents of the bin and bits of sofa she was so starved, but managed to give birth to 8 surviving puppies.

One of whom met Stella today quite by accident! Little Max, now Louis, was at a local dog rescue's fundraising open day and show, spotted his mum and went mad to come over to see her. It was only through talking to the owners that we even realised they were mother and son. Stella and Louis knew though.  There is no way they could have smelt each other that far apart, there is a link there that is far deeper than one we understand.

And Demon entered the Child Handler category...and came SECOND!! Stella's first ever show and the lady asked Demon how many shows she took part in because she was so good with Stella.

I have no idea how to top today on our one year anniversary!!!

Health n Safety...

Going to the bathroom can be a dangerous activity.  If germ warfare doesn't kill me, it's quite possible one of the cats will.

Tickles likes to jump up onto the toilet.  He did it once without seeing me lift the lid, and very nearly disappeared head first into the bowl.  He regained his balance, thought about it and decided he wanted to have a drink.  Unfortunately, he did this without me realising he'd jumped up and I nearly sat on him...  He also likes to stand on his back legs and peek over the top of the sink like a toddler.  If I should put my hand on the sink, he thinks my fingers are a moving target.  He has a good aim and I have lots of small holes in my skin.  It's like dot to dot for blind people.

Titch has a fetish about my feet.  He will come in, watch me sit on the toilet and instantly throw himself on my feet.  He will only do it, though, if I am barefoot.  I have to point out that I am extremely ticklish and most mornings start with me screeching at him to stop picking on me while my feet are moving around in random patterns trying to avoid his attention.  Brings a whole new meaning to the term bog trotter...

Midnight is still very quiet.  This assists in the 'lying in wait' ninja position at the top of the stairs.  I never have a clue she's there until it's very nearly too late.  The only time she moves from the top of the stairs is when she lies outside the bathroom door.

TC is becoming a lap cat.  He also likes to stop the circulation in my feet by lying on them at night.  Must see the vet for a diet sheet.  He likes to wrap himself around my legs whenever I'm walking, which makes getting out of the bath a bit challenging.  At least I don't have far to go before the wall breaks my fall.

The other night, very late at night, when the world was quiet, the house was in darkness and I was on my own, I started brushing my teeth.  As I bent over the sink to spit, the door banged open about 120 degrees...I nearly bit the toothbrush in half as I had a heart attack through fear.  My attacker? Summer....   Summer has a thing about opening the bathroom door. She does it whenever I take longer than she deems necessary in there.  One morning she smashed it open while I was wiping my face dry. The towel hangs on the back of the door....

And Tatwo.....is still a lunatic.

Putting your foot in it...

If you ask Stella if she wants to go to the toilet, it usually results in lots of barking.

So when you need to ask her at 330am if she wants the toilet, it's a bit nervewracking. 

I have a babygate on the stairs to prevent her coming upstairs.  This was started as soon as she moved in due to the imminent arrival of the Cyprus 6 and not having a clue how they would get on. I thought, cunningly, that it would give the cats some space from Stella.  It actually gives Stella space from the cats....

But I digress.  Stella is very good, and 9 times out of 10 the babygate is left half open.  Mainly because the cats are too stupid to work out how to get through a shut babygate (jump, you lazy little gits!) despite being bloody experts at getting out of a locked cat flap.  Luckily the babygate was left open the night she had a poorly tummy.  She came up at 330 am and woke me up.  I sent her downstairs and went back to bed, for at least a whole nanosecond.  And then she was back up.

Luckily I realised she needed to go out, and she responded quietly, rather than her usual demented response.

But letting her out is usually cause for a noise abatement order, particularly at 330 am....so I had to take her out on a lead to make sure she didn't rush out to protect her garden from the monsters that she thinks live there. 

I'm so very glad I didn't ignore her and get up to the most destroyed carpet in the world.  At stupid o'clock, in nothing more than a nightshirt, I was stood in the garden listening to the world fall out of poor Stella's bum. 

Only, it wasn't the garden I'd just stood in..............

Rubber balls come bouncing back..and back...and back.

Tatwo went upstairs to play last night.  Three hours he was playing with his ball, bouncing it down the stairs, then thundering down after it in his lead bottomed clodhoppers.  The heaviest pawed cat in the world, I swear.  It doesn't help that he's been playing with the uber bouncy ball he's 'acquired' from Demon.  The type you can drop from a standing height, make yourself a cup of tea and by the time you come back the bloody thing is still bouncing off the walls, ceiling and light fittings.

When I went to bed I read a magazine, but as I couldn't flaming hear myself think I took action!  I got up, confiscated the bouncy ball, and  the ball with the bell in for good measure, and went back to my magazine with a smug grin on my face.  It was shortly after snuggling under the duvet that I made a discovery.

Tatwo has three balls...  

Another half an hour of bump, bump, bump, dududududududududbang and I gave up.  Switching the light off I reasoned that he'd soon give up.  Fifteen minutes later he went quiet.

I woke up in the morning thinking I'd be able to enjoy the lie in as it's a school holiday. Yeh, right.  As Tatwo had lost his ball he couldn't annoy me with lobbing it down the stairs and chasing it. So he opened my drawers and started throwing my clothes out.  

One ball swiftly returned....

Run, Rabbit, run...

Sundays....day of rest....until there's a knock on the door.

Next door brat: Er, excuse me, we've just looked out of the window and your cats are in the rabbit run.

Me: Oh for god's sake...ok, thanks.

As I go to shut the door she continues:

yeh they're terrorising the rabbits..

I ran into the garden full of fear.  And yes, the boy cats were all wondering around the rabbit run.

And the rabbits were sat on the lawn watching them.