Lonesome pterodactyl

Another pterodactyl is missing.....

Esther was scooped up into my basket never to be seen again. Where is she? The Chief minion has been sad since she returned with the empty basket. The remaining pterodactyl has been spoilt today, being fed fresh cucumber and radish all chopped up on a wooden board. I think she is secretly pleased that she didn't have to share it with Esther. I'm not getting in that basket - never, never, never. So far I have always returned safe and sound from the v-e-t but I'm not chancing it again. Wherever the pterodactyls have gone I don't want to join them, I like it here with my minion and Jasper (even if he does get right on my frill occasionally). Next time I see that basket the fight is on.....

Frill exposure

It is well known that thousands of years ago cats were worshipped as gods. I have not forgotten this. In my quest to find a minion worthy of caring for my every need, I sought out one that venerated not only the feline species but the highest caste within said species - the Ginger.

Since choosing her as my minion seven years ago we have formed a strong bond, she as my disciple and I am her familiar. The Chief MInion is diligent in her duties, she will do even the less pleasant tasks without complaint (litter tray cleaning, removal of vomited hair balls and, when I was ill - bottom cleaning with warm moist toilet paper). She is kind, caring, attentive and loving at all times but, oh my goodness, she is not very intelligent. 

When relaxing on my pouffe, and this is something all cats do, I can reach a state of near nirvana, a blissful zen like experience where I am chilled out without a care in the world. I roll onto my back exposing my magnificent frill and revel in the warmth and safety I feel in my chosen home. The Chief Minion gets very excited when I do this and often comes to worship at the frill altar. She calls me her 'cuddly teddy bear' and gently kisses my head. I put up with display of affection as it seems to be important to the minion to express her love in this way.  Not content with this the minion will start stroking my exposed white bib and chest and then working her way down to the frill. Mine is rather splendid, even if I say so myself. Our cousins, the lions, have their awesome manes and I have my frill of epic proportions. Her hand strokes the baby soft fur as she coos endearments however, the frill is extremely sensitive. It is very near my tom bits and, as every male knows, these need to be protected at all times. I allow her a few strokes hoping she will stop, but no. She never learns. Always one stroke to many and I have to teach her a lesson (again). In an instant all twenty claws unsheath and my four limbs enclose around her hand, like a ginger Venus Flytrap her hand is caught in a terrifying vice like grip of fur, claws and fangs. Her reflexes are fast, but not fast enough. I manage to get my fangs into  her soft flesh just before she snatches her hand away, moaning and complaining before sloping off to attend to her wounds. I resume my nap immediately, mulling over the fact that this happens everytime the frill is revealed.

Pigeons learn faster than her.

Good vibrations

One of my favourite places for a nap is on the pouffe. It's just the right distance from the fire and I can survey the garden for intruders and any unfortunate prey that may dare to trespass on my territory. It has a soft woolly covering that I have coated in my fur and alluring aroma. The Chief Minion often leaves her detritus strewn carelessly on my coveted spot which gets on my frill. However, this doesn't deter me from sneaking 40 winks if required. Last night, I had settled myself on top of a couple of opened letters delivered that morning, the square plastic things she wears on her eyes and the small plastic box that she spends a lot of time talking to and prodding with her finger. The Chief Minion was upstairs zipping herself into the strange faux giraffe fur she seems to like wearing in the evening when something strange happened. My frill started to vibrate. This was highly unusual and strangely unsettling (but bizarrely not unpleasant). My ears pressed themselves flat against my head in alarm and then I heard........frogs........croaking. I cast my mind back to what I had done that day - nope, I definitely have not been on the catnip so I double check that I am not dreaming. I look down. The frill was shaking, all the fur moving and rippling like a field of wheat caught in the wind. The Chief Minion pranced down the stairs and groped beneath my frill - how rude!! Her hand grasped the small plastic box, she jabs at it with her pointy digit and lifted it to her ear.

I heard her say 'hello?'...

Bed wars

The Chief Minion was up late this morning. She wasn't happy last night   - we were up late which is unusual and she had laid out a little banquet of cheese and mini cheddars (I am fond of both these delights) and some foul smelling liquid that looked like water but had bubbles and smelled vaguely of cucumbers. She refers to this as her naughty tipple -gin and tonic. I would never drink it -smells like poison to my sensitive nose. I stared longingly at her until she broke a bit off a cheddar and put it in front of me to scoff. She then moaned and groaned at the moving pictures of tiny men in shorts moving a ball with their feet. Most strange. Anyway, after releasing the pterodactyls and serving my breakfast she scuttles back to her nest with a cup of tea - I follow and nestle in my spot on the bed. She has tried many times to make me sleep on the inferior side of the bed but I'm not having any of it. My side is nearest the door for ease of access and also near my glass of water which is on the floor by the door (the floor!!). This makes me laugh because what she doesn't know is that I regularly climb on the nightstand and gently lap the water from her posh glass that is kept near the light and the talking box that starts early in the morning most days. Sometimes she will move me to the other side but I immediately claw my way back and squash my body in whatever space is available on the right side. I stay here squashed on a sliver of bed until eventually she gives in, she moves to the inferior side with a sigh and I'm back in the best spot. I stretch out all my limbs and make sure the frill is hanging loose. Time for a power nap I think...

Through the flap

I fill my frill to capacity with the posh nosh, licking the bowl clean as it travels across the kitchen floor, scraping along the tiled floor before finally coming to rest butted up against the fridge. After a few laps of water I move away from the dining table into the hallway and give myself a quick wash and brush up. I need to look my best before venturing outside.

I move to the door and peer through the clear perspex flap - that pesky young upstart Jazzer better not be waiting outside for me. I nudge the door with my nose and push my front paws through the flap. I am concerned that the door seems to be inexplicably shrinking each time I use it, it used to be be much bigger when the Chief Minion first installed it. My shoulders are out and I drag the rest of my body through the narrow opening - my sides constricting as I force my rotund torso through the tunnel. Finally I'm out, the door closes softly on my lingering tail and I give it a flourish to set it free. I glance around quickly to make sure that my undignified exit hasn't been observed.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of orange, I turn and see a skinny, boney body sloping towards me. It's that little runt Jazzer...