Viggo's Blog: Hot Summer Nights

Hiya fans, Viggo here.
Did you know that my woman left me for a fortnight? I was shocked! But then again, that young guy looking after the house wasn't stingy with the crunchy nibbles, so me and the brat were okay, I guess.

Do not trust appearances!

I was on the bed first, and the brat plunked himself right in front of me, the nerve of that young tom!

Anyway, as I said, me and Bowie had the house to ourselves for a fortnight. We have a saying in my country: "when the cat is away, the mice have a party on the table". In our case: as our woman was away, us cats ruled the house. I got extra food out of our sitter by waking him up very early, so he gave us nibbles just to keep us quiet...hahahaha, sucker.

I would like to share a photo with you. My woman took it in Bath I believe.

See that? My hero is in that picture! Middle left. See him now?

It's The Cheshire Cat. You know, him of "We're all mad here" fame. In my country he is all but forgotten, so I was so chuffed to see half a shop window devoted to his adventures.

I tried to tell Bowie about him, but that silly youngster is too impatient to listen. All he cares about is running around outside and showing off to the other cats.

And I want to show you something else.

See that? A black cat! On top of that column. And what a handsome cat he is! It is in one of those stately homes, or manors, that my woman is so fond of visiting. She loved this one, it is called Anglesey Abbey, near Cambridge, and it was filled with wonderful stuff.She told me there were lots of animals there, in paintings and statues. The English have got class. They know our value.

Right, well, time for my nap.

Oh, by the way, what about his then? I want one!

Ta-rah!

Viggo's Blog: Life Without the Mutt.

Hiya fans, Viggo here!

Just an update on Life Post-Gina.
Would you know that I actually miss the old smelly mutt? And I miss our walkies late at night even more...Somehow strutting around the neighbourhood with your dog in tow is way more cool than just...walking.

My mates have adjusted to Bowie and me being dog-less. Big Black casually remarked that us not having our dog meant that some of the other toms a street away now thought that spraying the front door could be done...but that him and Mate had put a stop to that very fast. But Nose nastily said that Bowie should have less attitude, as Gina wasn't there to defend him. Nose should beware of his own attitude...Bowie is a young brat, but he's MY brat!

Apart from all that, it's all go over here in our household. My woman has taken the dog bed out of the living room and has put it out in the garden. She speaks of converting it into a raised vegetable bed, as it is a shame to scrap a nice piece of expensive wooden furniture.
Hm...I don't care for salad greens. And I wonder how she plans to keep the cats from pooping in it! Geez, I hope she isn't counting on me and Bowie to keep the other cats out of the back garden! That would make our spring and summer very stressful indeed.

Bowie has grown...a lot...He is now just as tall as myself, only slimmer. 
We get along most of the time.
But sometimes he gets these funny moods, he races around the room then and up and down the stairs, and he wants me to wrestle him. Hah! I win every time, I only have to lay down on top of him.
That can be a bit tiring.
Right, that's all. Not a lot of news I'm afraid. So I'll leave you with a pressing matter:

I bet you haven't. Good! I don't like being kissed. Bowie does, but he's weird. No, I like a nice, gentle stroking from my head down to my tail. Not too long, mind. I'll tell you when to stop by biting you, okay?
Have a nice Sunday, tar rah!

Viggo's Blog - My dog has died.

Hiyah fans, Viggo here.

Today I have a sad blog to write for you.
Remember I told you that I may be King of the house, but that there was a dog there before me who thought she was Queen?
Her name was Gina, and if you want to know more about her history as an adopted stray from Istanbul, search the posts using her name. My woman has blogged a few times about her.

Anyway,Gina had been ailing for years, suffering from arthritis, but she was puttering along since we moved to my present home; she seemed to like it there and had some sort of renewed lust for life (not a little helped by the daily heavy dose of painkillers she got along with her morning nibbles. Bowie once ate her medicine, well...But that's another story)

Last Wednesday my woman got a panicky phone call from the young woman, that Gina had vomited all over her bed. As my woman was singing with her band at that time, she told young woman to clean it up (duh!), and that Gina must have eaten a bellyful of grass again. She used to do that from time to time, silly mutt.
I was worried though! That vomit smelled funny I tell you.

So, by the time my woman came home, Gina seemed fine, she was asleep. So we all had a nice beer, since the young man was there as well with his girlfriend, and the young man from my young woman as well. Quite the jolly party we had! Bowie and I joined in, as usual. Bowie tried to have a beer as well; I just focussed on the snacks.
Until, at almost precisely 1 am, Gina suddenly shot from her bed (quite a feat in itself, as she moved with difficulty) and pooped all over the parquet.It had a horrible smell! So they all shouted and made funny faces, and then had to clean up the mess.I chose to watch from a distance.

By that time the young man who dates the young woman admitted that he had seen Gina eat something in the bushes when he walked her that afternoon, but that he couldn't make out what it had been, as by the time he reached her she had ate it all.
So, my woman said that she hoped Gina had got it all out of her system now, and they all went to bed.

In the night, Gina woke me up by moaning, and I went to investigate. She really did smell weird! She again got up, and pooped all over the floor, in seven places in all, and by the time she had finished I got in a right state, as I could smell blood. I went up to the puddles and took a good sniff, and then decided to go wake up my woman. It was 5 am and she came down immediately (remembering that last time us cats had woken her up and the fish tank had emptied all over the floor), and when she turned on the light I saw her turn all funny and white, and she said "Oh Viggo, that's blood! It's blood!" and she ran to get her phone and phoned the night vet for advice.
He told her that she should go see her own vet straight away when his practice opened, so she woke up my young woman's lover (he's better in a crisis) and together they rolled Gina in a blanket and drove her to the vet.

There they put Gina on a stretcher and called the vet to hurry and get there, but just as he did, Gina's heart stopped.
My woman told me later that the vet had done mouth-to-mouth, and how special she thought this as she never realized that vets did that kind of stuff. Together with heart massage he got Gina's heart working again, but she was very frail, and just when they had managed to get a drip into her the heart stopped again. They gave her adrenaline and got it going yet again, but things looked pretty dire. 
So they conferred, and decided that if and when her heart stopped again, they would let her go. 

And that's what's happened.

Viggo's Blog - That Young 'Un Is A Handful!

Hiya fans, Viggo here.
It's been a while...sorry about that. It is just that with young Bowie around I hardly get the time to sleep a wink, let alone write to you all.
But the woman has put him out into the garden just now ("Out with you!" she said, and I understand, as he had just put his left claw in her) so I finally have the means and opportunity.

See this? 
This was this morning at 6.30 a.m. Bowie had woken us up, as he wanted to go outside, and we took along old Gina and went to the field just around the corner from our home.
First everything was as usual.

Well, this was a week ago, but you get the picture.
But then our youngster decided he would try to walk on the duckweed of the stream (you can just about spot it behind Gina's left buttock).
Lol!
He couldn't walk on water, silly brat. He could swim though...He was out of that water in a flash!
He was so upset that he tried to climb the woman's leg, but she walked us home instead and I tried to help him get his coat back into shape.

Hahahaha, not so feisty then!
Still, he got over it pretty quickly.

How's things otherwise? Well, he is a handful. The vet has warned us to look for signs of spraying, and then it's off with his balls. And he wants to shadow box with me: but all-the-time! I cannot get my rest!

Mind you, two weeks ago he came in handy for a change. Let me tell you what happened.
I was out chilling with my mates Big Black and Mate on the pavement at night, but Bowie had stayed in with the woman. At 4.30 a.m. he woke her up by tearing up and down the stairs and screaming in her ear and using her as a trampoline, so she woke up pretty damn fast and went downstairs with him, thinking he had cramps and diarrhea and needed to get out. When she got in the living room she saw the fish tank had sprung a leak and had dumped 3/4 of the water on the parquet floor already.

Is he a clever little bugger or what?
Obviously our house was a little damp, and the woman still hasn't heard from the insurance, but all is well again and all the fish have been rescued and almost all the shrimp as well, and we have a new tank already, which we love. All those pretty colored fishies for our entertainment!

It is still a bit bare...those ornaments are expensive. But the fish are happy.
Apart from that we have settled into a routine together. We now share our meals, which is nice, and we sleep together most days. And Big Black and Mate think Bowie's rather cute and they have welcomed him into our gang. So all in all I think the brat can stay. It is up to me, you understand, I was here first!

Okay, time for my nap. Bowie is still out, so I can have some peace.

Tarah!