This is almost exactly like my beloved BOINGY THING, except the color is different. It has a springy string that makes it go BOING in the air and so forth, and my monkeylady is careful to put the toy away so that I don’t chew on it and make the yak noise. Previously, the BOINGY THING had beads on it which would have tasted interesting but it stopped being boingy and so soon there was new one, heigh ho.

She should put the plant away, if you ask me. I’m frequently making the yak noise after investigating the plant.

I catch a lot of air when I really lose my dignity, but eventually I signal my boredom by pouncing decisively on the fishy and lying on it. Sadly, I have no front-knives and so catching it can be rather frustrating; thus it is quite satisfying when I do capture it. Fortunately the monkeys have not figured out how to capture ME with their camera-boxes mid-flight.

I have added a new CATegory as this post is related to my new pastime, tweeting. I am hoping that where there are tweets, birdies soon follow.

In my perusal of the Interwebs, I ran across this excellent guide for catpersons such as myself:

Toys
Any small item is a potential toy. If a human tries to confiscate it, this means that it is a good toy. Run with it under the bed. Look suitably outraged when the human grabs you and takes it away. Always watch where it is put so you can steal it later. Two reliable sources of toys are dresser tops and wastebaskets. There are several types of cat toys.

• Bright shiny things like keys, brooches, or coins should be hidden so that the other cat(s) or humans can’t play with them. They are generally good for playing hockey with on uncarpeted floors.
• Dangly and/or string-like things such as shoelaces, cords, gold chains, and dental floss (& Q-tips) also make excellent toys. They are favorites of humans who like to drag them across the floor for us to pounce on.
• When a string is dragged under a newspaper or throw rug, it magically becomes the Paper/Rug Mouse and should be killed at all costs. Take care, though. Humans are sneaky and will try to make you lose your dignity.

I had a sad lapse in dignity earlier this evening, as my monkeyman brought out the BOINGY THING!!1! and of course I had to humiliate myself leaping and capering about like a wackycat. Fortunately, it was rather dark and no photographic evidence exists of this failure to maintain my composure.

After my monkeys returned from their mysterious absence in far-away, fishy-smelling places, I proved my usefulness to the cavehold by stalking and securing a small intruder during those dark hours when they are unconscious. I brought it to my monkeylady, chattering a warning to her as I came up the stairs to the sleeping lair, and she promptly woke up, although clearly her grasp of the niceties of prize-accepting etiquette was not strong. She’s not the keenest knife in the paw, although loveable in her way… in any case she reached down to stroke my head while I tried to tell her of my triumph, and apparently the discovery of the intruder’s little feet (I held him quite securely) startled here.

There was a brief pause as she turned on lights, et cetera, and awakened the monkeyman (who is considerably less keen a blade on sudden wakefulness). She kept moving away from me, my monkeylady, and I followed closely so that I could lay the prize down for her approval.

Finally, she seemed ready to accept the gift, although she held one of her heavy feet-boot things ready to smack the thing as soon as I released it… I see there’s much room for improvement in her training there. For of course the intruder scampered away quite quickly, forcing me to chase after it (not unenjoyable in itself). The monkeys hooted and chattered to themselves as I captured and then released my prey a time or two, and then the little thing found refuge under a big wooden thing. The monkeyman fussed with a little piece of sticky cardboard under there, which I promptly investigated.

He actually shooed me away when the sticky pad-thing got stuck on my paw, but I forgave him eventually.

The next morning, the sticky thing had disappeared, and the intruder was gone from under the wooden thing. I surmise that it has been rather stealthily disposed in a refuse bin.

How rude, but then the monkeys are oddly squeamish about some matters of little or no consequence to seasoned hunters such as myself. I have already forgiven them, of course, and return their affection (but always in a dignified way).

Usually, these intruders work in pairs… and so I await developments with relish (and a nice Merlot).

“Ow! Ow! YEEEOW! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYOWTCH!!”

Yes, I did indeed vocalise in this very vulgar manner tonight. I was quite overcome with pain. My furry human was busying himself with doing something about the monkey chow they eat at night, and I was in my usual position right at his feet. Well, I was only offering to take care of any little fishy tidbits that happened to find their way to the floor.

And then he stepped back and put his big monkey foot down HARD, RIGHT on my little paw, and it HURT. I screamed loudly and ran away.

My monkeywoman came quick! She ran right up from the other room and they both approached me as I stumbled away in some pain and confusion. It was like reliving a nightmare, but then they both stopped and spoke softly and gently to me and to each other.

I shook off my pain-befuddlement and moved as quick as I could up the stairs to the sleeping room, in some embarassment for being caught out. I had shown fear, and I felt very small and vulnerable again. They followed, carefully.

Oh no! For a moment I was afraid of even my beloved monkeys! I shuddered with fear, but it lessened as I realized that already my paw hurt less and less. Not a serious injury, then. Of course, I should have realized that when I was able to run up the stairs, but still.

I jumped, rather gingerly, up on to the bed to my secure place, a blanket placed for my personal use at the foot of the bed. My monkeys came close, reassuring me that they meant me no harm. My lady petted me softly and felt my legs and paws gently. She seemed relieved, and then she petted my furry one, and he seemed even more relieved and petted me over and over again. It was clear that abject apologies were being offered, and so I accepted with a tentative “bump” to his paw. And then all was loving and good and I was not scared any more. I love my humans, but they certainly are clumsy.

I recovered my sang-froid, and later was able to play a couple of good games of Stringfish! and Get That Red Dot!!1! with my furry man. Friends again. However, I shall be much more cautious about those big feet-things they have. I’m fine now, although you may kiss the paw if you wish.

I don’t think I like feet much at all. My monkey lady has big purple fake feet on her back paws right now and they make a scary SHH! – SHH! noise. I did not think it was amusing when she approached just now to play a game of I’m Coming To Get You!

If I could talk Gibberish (the language that they speak) I would tell her “Lose the purple feet, please.”

Perhaps I shall have to take drastic steps to render them…unwearable. More on that later.

Ha! My monkeys left the computer unguarded again. Silly monkeys. I took the opportunity to check in on a few of my brethren and sistren in the Cat underground.

Caveat Lector | Good morning, housemonkey

Didi came in for her morning trample bright—well, dark and early this morning. Yawning, I got up to feed her, and check in by IM with a friend of mine in Australia.

Turning on the light, I discovered that one of them hurled on my winter cloak. Good morning, housemonkey! Isn’t it a lovely morning!

Good work, Didi! I commend you. I myself have had a few opportunities to hurl. I was unable to find a coat, but I did have a go at the living room rug (the nice soft one) again.

I was irked that my monkeywoman took my fishing pole toy away from me, so later on I left her a couple of messages in the front hall place. She had foolishly left my toy out on the counter, and then both monkeys went out into the place where the noisy moving boxes live. So I jumped up and captured the mouse that is somehow invisibly attached to the fishing pole, and took it toward the kitchen.

Suddenly, the fishing pole was chasing me! It wanted the mouse back! I ran up the little stairs and the pole stopped, but then I couldn’t keep going with the mouse.

So I stopped and chewed at the almost-invisible string and snapped it. The fishing pole stopped chasing me and the mouse.

In fact, the way the string coiled up begged for further investigation and attack, so I chewed it into several pieces.

Then the monkeylady came back and made very surprised sounds. She
tried to pick up all the pieces of string and she put the fishing pole away in the cupboard, but she didn’t know I saved some pieces for later, and left them for her to find when I hurled some messages in the hall. Ha.

The mouse is now completely mine and I carry it around as is my right. My mouse now.

She’ll have to get something else to attach to that fishing pole thing, but I bet she won’t leave it out where I can get to it again.