Miss Calculations...and the Country Connection

Oh-h-h...please excuse my manners - I haven't introduced myself (my new mother would be appawled at this lapse - she cares about 'stuff' like that). I am Missy the cat, 8 months old - and I have had an unfortunate childhood - already! Make yourself comfy, and I'll relate the whole sorry saga.
I started out with the 'regulation issue' mother and siblings, and Life was a roller-coaster of drinking and sleeping, really. A veritable whirlwind of non-activity. Alas...all too soon these halcyon days would come to an end...and parting and adoption would follow. As chance would have it, I was adopted together with one of my brothers - and Life started to settle into a routine of sorts, with only a couple of hitches - two spoilt 'schnitzels' - or whatever these DOG wannabes are called- for company?? My brother and I took to the trees, post-haste - and made our first discovery - DOGS cannot climb trees! Is there any end to their 'inabilities'??
And then, just when it seemed peace was a possibility, there came a day of unimaginable horror and terror when my brother and I were taken to that Chamber of Tortures - the Vet's Surgery! And he did a 'nip and tuck' on us both (and it wasn't on our chins!!). I've just tucked that memory away in the 'too hard basket' that resides in the deepest recesses of my mind - and as soon as my belly fur grows back into its former splendour - this trauma will be 'buried'...FOREVER!
For the briefest of times, things settled down and we siblings thought our troubles were behind us. Sadly, this proved to be the calm before the storm, when, just a couple of months ago, tragedy struck! We were the furry child victims of a broken home - unwelcome at the new home my second mother was moving to...despicable! My brother found a new home - and I was beginning to think it was all up for me - several days had passed with no apparent change in my residential address (thankfully, didn't have to worry about my email address - I share this with humans - I am, after all, only a novice 'techno-geek').

And then along came my Mum and Dad - and I checked them out most carefully - and GREAT news! I could tick ALL the boxes!
They smelled good (like farm, and animals I haven't met, and space, and trees)...and they felt good (Mum is particularly soft and warm and cuddly - and Dad may have 'Different Strokes', but he's no slouch in the 'spoiling' stakes)...and they both talked to me in soft, kind of croony voices...and huffed warm air on my head really gently.They are SO purrfectly purrceptive to my purreferences.

**And look at this photo of them in 'prehistoric' days with a predecessor of mine - she was called Tammy, and she was a 'rather posh' Siamese. But they do make a handsome trio, don't they? One day I'll organise someone to get a photo of Mum and Dad now and ME!

What can I say! We fell in love, of course - and now their Casa is my Casa - Home Sweet Home - Heart's-ease - my Soul-sanctuary - and all that jazz! These two are quite old to be human parents, being actually grandparents - but man, do they know how to love a 'furry'!
Oh yes, and I should tell you...my name wasn't always Missy, but Mum (the writer in the family) suggests I look like a Picasso masterpiece - and that my genealogy was undoubtedly a 'Misscellaneous Misstery'. This is ALL complimentary - I think??

Of course, there had to be ONE cloud on the horizon - it's THE DOG - and she's called Muffin. (Why not Boffin, or Boofhead, or one of the great words that rhyme - like Frog, Log, Bog, Smog - don't they all conjure up great images?) Uh-uh-uh - don't be 'catty' now!
No, actually, I would say we are presently at the 'just barely tolerating each other' stage. The major problem is that she got off on the wrong paw with me by sniffing my bottom when I was deeply involved in rolling in some grass. I mean...REALLY! This is most definitely a DOG thing - you don't see cats Behaving Badly like that. No way, Jose...we're far too aristocratic!

Despite this unpropitious beginning, we can now lay a few metres apart displaying a 'don't care' attitude by faking sleeping 'with' (?) each other. I don't know for sure about the DOG - but I am actually only 'cat-napping' - ready on the instant to take flight.

Did I mention that this 'togetherness' phenomenon mainly only takes place when Mum or Dad are present in the near vicinity? Oh well...safety in numbers, I always say. Not to mention the 'escape route' (in through the back door - or a leap into human arms) that they provide.

Funny how it goes, these parents are becoming indispensable, in many ways.

Mum is a great cook - and once again, Dad has his specialities, too...maybe their history of rescuing and raising all manner of creatures has something to do with it? Whatever, me and 'hopeless' (oops, that should be Muffin and I) dine rather well - and that's an understatement if I ever heard one. Like, check this out - Mum or Dad make liverpaste for us to have on rye bread for breakfast each morning.

In case you need the recipe - for your 'treasured furries' - here is how it goes:

You buy beef liver from the butcher, cut it up a bit, boil it a little with a couple of cloves of garlic (to deter fleas - and it REALLY works), and some Canola oil (to loosen up joints and deter arthritis), and then zzizz it through a food processor (hate that noise - but the smell wins me over, every time), and mix in a beaten egg and a little flour (to get it all to stick together) and into a casserole dish (or two) and into the microwave on High for just about 7 mins. And that's what my Mum and Dad spread on the rye bread and chop up small for ME - and large for her (Muffin the dog). **And you thought a cat in the Kitchen would be catastrophic! -

CATS RULE! (given half a chance).

Around lunchtime, Mum gives me new water and some Kitty biscuits - I love them - and they keep me going until tea time - lean RAW MINCEMEAT - this is SO Good - and Mum says it's good for me too - because in the wild, IF I were a tiger (which I am in my heart - and a little lionish, too) - I would catch all my food, and that would be RAW meat, and that's because we CATS are CARNIVORES and PREDATORS...GRRRRR!
**and you also thought a cat couldn't read a recipe! Well, you're right! I watched every move Mum and Dad made through slitty eyes, so they wouldn't suspect copyright was about to be breached. Ha! Gotcha!

Then, before we all go to bed, Mum or Dad sprinkle a few more Kitty bikkies in my bowl in case I get an attack of the munchies around midnight. Mum says when I stop growing and being SO active, they will have to give me less food - but for now, I say 'CARPE DIEM' (or Seize the Day...and run with it!), and I also have been known to say -

"Oh-h-h YUM! this is like I've died and gone to heaven"

WASH YOUR WHOLE SELF

AFTER DINNER

NOT BEFORE - Like a Human!

WHY? BECAUSE I SAID SO....CATS RULE...REMEMBER?!

Here is a CATechism of what I have learned about humans, so far:

MUM does NOT like:

- me poking my nose and myself into drawers and the pantry and her wardrobe, the exact moment they are opened (or any other time, actually) - and she particularly dislikes me 'cataloguing' her clothes in new and fun ways,

- waking up to find she's wearing me over her head like a scarf, through the night,

- me getting in her way on her 'comfort' stops through the night. She can't see in the dark...can you believe it?

- me playing with HER ball of wool she's knitting with. HUH? Looks just like MINE to me - what's the problem?

- and she also just doesn't 'get it', how much fun it is to unknit her work. It's SO easy - you just run away at top speed with the ball of yarn, and her work just unravels like crazy! 'Wicked'!

- me washing her eyebrows in the middle of the night, when she is sleeping. I really don't see what possible objection she could have against such fastidious cleanliness. Beats me!

BUT she DID laugh the night I climbed right into her doona (that's Danish for eiderdown - see I'm already becoming multi-lingual - and I know some Sign Language too, except when Mum claps her hands, I don't think she's applauding me!). Actually, i crept in between the doona and its cover and snuck up towards where I thought her head should be, and instead, hit a dead end and had to be rescued. Even though she had to get right out of bed to sort me out, it all ended in cuddles and kisses, so the trauma was ALL GOOD in the long crawl!

**Psssstt!..... I practiced 'stalking' today...but I think I may be out of my league with this 'critter' (can you see it through the bush?).

It's SO BIG!!!

Some of you humans won't like to know I've caught two birds already. But Dad is happy for several reasons. First of all they were sparrows, and sparrows are an 'introduced' species (or ferals), and they breed like rabbits (and that's PROLIFIC), and they 'poop' on his beloved old Mercedes that he's waited ALL his life for - on the bonnet, attacking mirrors, harvesting squished insects from ALL over the car - and 'pooping' merrily along - EVERYWHERE they land or even 'bomb' whilst 'on the wing'! They've simply overflown the boundaries; worn out the old 'welcome' roost;
stretched the bonds of mateship further than a rubber band could tolerate on a warm day - you get the picture?

And their other behaviour that also REALLY gets up his nostrils, is that he believes a cheap morse code message has been sent to the entire sparrow population of the South East of South Australia, informing of his 'feeding the chooks their grain' schedule. He says he's fed up with the feed bill - especially as the fodder store doesn't offer him pensioner prices. And he also reckons the chooks are pretty fed up, also. This War of the Sparrows must be brought to a satisfactory end.
(The greatest worry is that the 'girls' might take strike action - and that's eggsactly the last thing we want)

Actually, Dad's not as blood-thirsty as I find I am...he'd be totally satisfied if I had the same effect as a scarecrow (or Miss Muffet's spider)...and frightened them all away. He also reckons sparrows have more than a 'fighting chance' at Life, given their potential speed, velocity and altitude in the wild blue yonder - AND they can choose higher and flimsier branches in trees than I can. Hmmm. Have to give that one some consideration...behind my eyelids...when I'm curled up in a ball...wrapped in my tail.

And Mum says 'mouse season' will come with warmer days. I don't know what 'mouse' is yet, but if it moves - it's MINE!

OK... BIG word again....as usual, you can check it out at Wikipedia - Catalepsy

Think I'll rest up for a bit (like all day - ready for tonight)...but you will be hearing more of my chronicles soon...I promise - cross my paws and hope to catch something. So until your next view of MY BEST LIFE IN THE WORLD -

MAY YOU ALWAYS LAND ON YOUR FEET

- like I have!

She has TWO Diamonds...truly!
One has been on her finger for decades now...and this is the other one -

You could learn a lot about her at Ezine...just have a bit of a scratch...errr....click!