A Black Day for Oscar.

14/5/2012

    The Longlegs had gone out and the smell was tormenting me. A lovely rich heady smell that tickles the nostrils and makes you want to eat it and here I was stuck inside with no clearways open and unable to get at it. I know I’ve smelt it before but I can’t remember where. I suppose I shall have to be patient.

That’s long enough. My patience has worn thin. I went to look through one of the clearways to see if I could see where the smell was coming from but I got a little tangled in the clearway covering. Trying to wrest myself from the grip of the covering I perhaps pulled a little hard because they came down with a snap and covered me even more. As they fell, unfortunately they brought down one of those tall things my ‘The Her’ puts her flowers in. I hope they’re good with puzzles.At last a key in the lock. I shot across the room and reached the clearway just as it opened. I shot out. “Oscar” they shouted in unison and my ‘The Him’ tried to grab me as I went past. Last I saw of him he was on my level struggling to get up. I admit I shouldn’t have sniggered as I looked at him because before I knew it my feet were feeling warm and the smell was very close indeed. I finally looked down. My feet were black.

The smell was coming from the surface of the road which had been freshly covered in black stuff. I turned and pulled my feet from the road one by one moving back towards the grass of the garden. The heat was leaving my feet but now my pads felt quite hard. They were covered from pads to ankle in black smelly stuff that had been spread across the road. As I got to the grass I lay down and tried to remove the layer of black that had attached itself to me. I went home through the still open clearway and as I hit the wooden floor my pads were tapping as though I wore the Longlegs shoes. It was undignified to have people hear me coming. I went to my ‘The Her and expressed my dismay that she would not try to  keep me in, and dismay that she did not make more of an effort to keep me in.She as usual feigned indifference to my words as though I do not make myself understood. I’m sure I do.

So, I finish the day sitting by my ‘The Her’ as she gently tries to soap the black stuff they call tar from my pads with soapy water. This could be a very long job.

                                                              Go for your gun pardner.

                                                      Honest, it’s a motor car usually.

                                         A magic week to you all with Hugs Galore x

Strange Start to the Day.

3/4/2012

Something strange is going on. I can’t quite put my paw on it but my whiskers are bristling and that’s a sure sign. Of course it could also mean that a great wet is coming from the sky as well, but I don’t think it’s that.

We all know I creep into this room once my ‘The Him’ has left so I can leave a note for all my fans out there who understand how to treat Superiors and like to know what I’m doing.

Let me start by saying I got up this morning and all seemed fine, well as fine as it can be with two interlopers in the house. I refuse to call them guests since I certainly didn’t invite them. There really are times when the Longlegs shouldn’t be allowed out on their own. Still, I’m sure I got my message across to them the other day and they won’t tangle with me in a hurry. Anyway, I was up. I didn’t feel like walking in the direction of the lounge just then so I thought I’d pay a little visit to my ‘The Him’. I was shocked to find he was already up too and working on the writing box that I ‘borrow’ to speak to you all. As I got closer I could hear him huffing and puffing as his fingers tapped harder and harder. P L E A S E S T O P S E N D I N G M E H O R O S C O P E S he stamped out saying it out loud as he wrote. I have no idea what they are but anything starting with horror can’t be good. He saw me and leaned down “Hello Oscar old boy” he said, “do you want your breakfast?” And without being asked too.

He carried my dishes through the lounge to the food room, passing by the cage with the rats as I followed him. He put the thing on that makes water hot and then instead of scratching my ears while we waited he took some crunchy things from a packet and went to feed the rats FIRST!! BEFORE ME!!!!!!! His paw was at a funny angle passing things through the bars and before I could warn him that he’d get pulled into the cage, one of them took the titbit from his pinched fingers as the other one got a grip on another finger with her teeth. I expected a squeal, either from him at the pain or her as he squashed her for her cheek, but no, he laughed and said “Patience Penny, yours is here” and gave her a treat. He’s obviously gone mad or they’ve hipnippertised him.

He did my dishes and gave me breakfast. Then I saw him put some bread on to brown for himself and make himself a drink. He carried my dishes through and I left him to his meal while I had mine. As I came back there he was feeding them the crusty bits. I left in disgust and went to see my ‘The Her’.

I had just settled down when my ‘The Him’ came through with a drink and a plate of browned bread. “Thank you Dear ” she told him, “but please take it through to the lounge and I’ll join you there so I can feed the girls the crusts.” He swivelled round and headed back saying “Righto my Dear”. The world has gone rat mad. Do they not know these are rodents in the house of a Superior? It’s unheard of, or at least it should be.

After a little nap I went through to ‘borrow’ the writing box to tell you all of the indignities I’m suffering and there on the place where I tap I found hair. Rat hair, where I work. Please don’t tell me they’ve escaped. But I looked carefully about and couldn’t see them. I made my way to the lounge and there they were still caged up. I was just breathing a sigh of relief when they noticed me. One of them smirked while the other one just put her head down and crunched into a peanut shell. It was very unnerving.

I’ve come straight back through to tell you all about it as I don’t understand how these hairs got from that room to this and up onto the table where this box sits. If anyone has an answer please let me know, and if anyone would like two rats just let me know.

The Present and one from the Past- Oscar on Love. A lesson for the kittens.

The Present.

One From the Past.

10/11/2011

Words have power. Some words have more power than others and the one I want to talk about today is the most powerful of all. LOVE. This single word can raise emotions so strong….well, strong enough to start wars if what I heard from the Longlegs is true. Though in truth, I wonder whether they share the same meaning that we do.

We love our partners. I know that it may not seem that way sometimes when some of us take advantage of and she-cat we can find who’s receptive. But that’s the nature of Toms. I would always be there for my partner and don’t believe in tom-catting around.

We love our kittens. They carry our genes through the generations and our memories through life. We protect them and guide them and teach them. Hopefully we teach them the right way of things.

We love our friends. They are there when we have hard times and they are there for us when it counts. Yes, even Ginger who doesn’t carry a single thought of worth between his ears but is a faithful companion….mostly.

I’m going to dare to say it now, even though many may think it wrong. We can love our Longlegs too. Strange creatures as they are they can be endearing. You don’t have to explain to me that they are not of our species or that their sole purpose in life is to take care of us. Nor that they may not share our concept of love, and oft times it seems they do not as they seem to cause pain to each other to judge by the reactions of my ‘The Him’ when one of the she’s of the species comes at him with a needle. And I know that many of the hims tom-cat around with the hers as well. Maybe they shouldn’t be judged by our high morals.

What we should do is admit when we feel that sense of belonging that tells us we feel love for our Longlegs. I confess to that feeling myself. Yes, I know. I often complain when my meals are late but as a Superior I should do that in order to train them. But when I get my ‘The Him’ off his sleeping place some early lights it’s because I want his company and the comfort of a stroke. The fact that he complies, even though he moans, shows me that it’s possible he loves me in his own way, which I agree in my case is natural, but I believe he wishes to please me more than just a servant would.

When I go to sleep alongside my ‘The Her’, or she who cannot be woken, I get a real sense of pleasure. And when she awakes the first action she often performs is to reach out to stroke my head and say “Good morning Oscar” with real devotion.

The opposite side of this coin, to paraphrase a Longlegs, is the feeling one gets when told “I don’t love you.” Now I can’t speak from experience here as it’s obvious everyone should and does love me, but not dogs, but I’m told of the power to diminish one that those words hold. They can crush. And yet they are just words. Which brings me neatly back to my first statement. Words have power. It is my suggestion that you think before you use them, and use them well. Use them for good. Use them to reinforce your affection and don’t be shy. Use them to show you love all members of your species no matter where from, Persia, Egypt and even the Isle of Man. Use them to show your Longlegs appreciation.

Have a Great Week. Good Luck on Tuesday if you’re in the U.S. Humongous Hugs to you all.