Welcome to Fredcat's diary - and checkout his tails later!

Wednesday, January 31^st 2007 (number 908)

Somewhat bereft Fredcat! Large image

The Famous One wasn't happy, and didn't mind who knew it. "Where is she? Where's Cathie?" he demanded, "She should well be home by now. I hope she's OK," but Mr. B. simply shrugged his shoulders - which was of no help at all to the Mighty One. Fredcat had over the years developed an instinct for when his best human friend, Cathie, was about to arrive home and today felt all wrong. He knew the Cathie coming home pattern to a T - Mr. B. wakes from his mid-day snooze, busies himself preparing the evening meal, makes a nice cup of tea to welcome Cathie the moment she comes through the door, and then Cathie arrives. All this was usually preceded by an advance warning telephone call from Cathie - just in case Mr. B. had forgotten (but he never did, of course).

At last Cathie did come in through the door into the kitchen, and she was lugging a heavy briefcase full of all sorts of stuff. Fredcat ignored the briefcase and glared at Cathie, hopping up and down until she gave him an explanation. "Sorry I'm late, Chickie," she apologised, "I had to send a very complicated package all the way to Canada, and I needed a lot of help. The very nice Ship on Site man sorted it all out in the end, and so here I am." She grabbed the cup of tea, downed it in one and suggested to Mr. B. that a second cup wouldn't go amiss. Whilst this was being made she quickly lifted Fredcat onto her lap and carefully examined his eyes, checking to see that all was well in that particular ophthalmic department. It was. Fredcat wouldn't need to go to the v*t's office today. She knew only too well that Fredcat wasn't backward in coming forward when it came to expressing his feelings about going to the v*t's!

"What have you been doing whilst I was at work, Fredcat?" asked Cathie, "Have you been trying out the spiffy new Fredcat laptop notebook computer? I know you like computers because you spend much of your time when I am at home sprawled all over the keyboard - which makes it very hard for me to get anything done."

Fredcat sniffed, he wasn't going to be drawn into a conversation easily. He was still annoyed at Cathie's late homecoming and her attempts at conversation were not going to be successful, if he had his way. Anyway, he knew that many felines enjoyed computers; it was impossible to believe that he was the only computer literate feline who excelled at the wide, wide world of web. Oh, yes!

"Has Mr. B. been keeping you entertained? Has he been feeding you properly? Has he cleaned out all your litter trays and re-made all your round beds today?" she persisted. Cathie didn't expect an answer - she was well versed in recognising when Fredcat was in a nark and was merely trying to win over his truculence by choosing a common irritation about which they could both moan, but Fredcat couldn't honestly say that Mr. B. had been behaving in anything other than an exemplary fashion.

"OK, then, would you like to consider the purchase of a nice swing this weekend? You could use that all by yourself when the going gets boring," offered Cathie, and they both burst out laughing. That swing was for d*gs and the very idea of the Famous One lounging on such a thing had them both in gales of laughter. Fredcat folded first. "I'm glad you're home, Cathie," and they hugged each other while the Grumpy One looked on. "Silly creatures!" he thought.

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Monday, January 29^th 2007 (number 907)

Pain free Fredcat in the garden! Large image

"OK, Fredcat, come here now, please," said Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, to the Mighty One, "Following our talk on Friday last, I need to start you up again on yourt pain medication. Now I know that you've hidden your pain well but there are still some tiny signs that all is not completely fine with you." She looked pleased with herself. Fredcat stared at her. If this meant what he thought it meant he was not best pleased, but he waited patiently for a further explanation. "I know you are happily now trotting upstairs and downstairs at speed," Cathie continued, "And you continue to eat us out of house and home, but the signs are there nontheless." She gave another smug grin.

"How do I know? Well, you're taking ages and ages to settle down when you are go down for a nap - and it's not just anno domini catching up with you. I've seen the same signs in my fellow humans who are in arthritic pain, so there. You're taking to your round beds far more often than is right for a cat of your brilliance - and I fear that you're pushing your pain to the back of your mind by just sleeping your life away, and that's not good. I want you here with me!"

Fredcat didn't reply. Truth be told, he was in no position to argue - his Cathie had hit the nail squarely on the head. He conceded and accepted the small dose of medicine and, Cathie was very pleased to see, was soon feeling the benefits. "Now that that's out of the way you can get back to doing what you want to do instead of just sleeping, sleeping, sleeping," said Cathie.

Mr. B. was soon on the case. "Today is National Puzzle Day so you can put your mighty brain to work solving some of the world's biggest mysteries," he remarked, his tongue firmly in his cheek. "There are some amazing puzzles and games out there for you to pit your wits against, you know."

"So, how did you fare?" asked Fredcat, and as he watched Mr. B. squirm and roll his eyes he knew that the truth was not going to be out there. As the Grumpy One continued to refuse to spill the beans, Fredcat grunted and went outside to see what his residential domain looked like in the coolest part of the year. All was quiet today. The garden was mostly in a dormant phase but it looked neat and there was sufficient grass for a famous feline to chew on. He remembered the times when he had stalked and attacked the most monstrous of prey in the garden of his famous residence - always victorious, of course.

He was loathe to go back indoors - he just knew that Mr. B. would be on him to take some exercise to make up for his recent inactivity (he'd been in pain, though!). He had no desire to go to a gym or take part in any other form of exercise, thank you very much. As far as Mr. B. was concerned he'd offer to play - and beat him - at chess, a truly cerebral activity which required little in the way of physical exercise. He cheered up, this pain medication was working and he felt good. Thank you, Cathei!

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Friday, January 26^th 2007 (number 906)

Hugely improved Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, had been watching the Mighty One from a distance for some time. Since Fredcat's last visit to the v*t's office his health had improved tremendously; Cathie wondered if the mere fact that Fredcat had seen the friendly v*t once more had been enough to trigger healing. She looked harder at Fredcat and frowned. "Are you in any kind of pain?" she asked at last. "Over the last month or so I'd seen you both walking with a decided limp and tearing great lumps of fur from your body but over the last week or so you've stopped the self-mutilation - and even your limp seems to have disappeared; I don't understand it at all!" She rubbed her eyes in case she was dreaming but the reality of the Famous One stood before her in full, unclouded view.

Fredcat stared back at Cathie. He was good at staring - excellent, even. When Cathie blinked and backed down he tried to explain things to her. "Look Cathie," he said, "All felines fear predators and even though there are none where I live (that I know of) nonetheless we are conditioned to always be on the alert. We are pre-programmed." He liked the sound of that and rolled the words around in his mouth again. "Pre-programmed, Yup, that's what we are.""

"So, given that, whenever danger threatens we have to look fierce to ward off danger; it'd never do to turn around and say something like I don't feel very well today, I'm in pain, Mr. Predator, so would you mind coming back tomorrow when I'm feeling more up to it?" Fredcat grinned and was about to explain further but Cathie shook her head to say she understood.

"The trouble with that, my lovely one," she replied, "is that if you're in pain and danger isn't threatening you, then we humans don't know that you're in pain because you're brilliant at hiding it through long years of practice. So what are we to do?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm afraid there's no easy answer," stated Fredcat, "You just have to keep a careful watch on my habits and general behaviour. If I'm in real danger I'd expect you to do your best to rescue me. Some felines in pain simply decide to run away and hide until they are cured - if they do get cured, that is. You'll just have to be alert to my needs, OK?" And saying that, he stomped away to his food bowl, and tucked into some tuna which Mr. B. had kindly left out for him. Cathie sighed again and thought that being a best human friend was a very responsible job and, even though she did her best, it was still a big task for a mere human. Fredcat was worth it, though.

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Wednesday, January 24^th 2007 (number 905)

Meteorological Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, was reading the news on the spiffy new Fredcat laptop notebook computer as she drank her morning cup of tea. Fredcat listened half-heartedly to her musings. What he really wanted to hear was Cathie's saying that she'd be staying at home from work again. "Surely if it the weather's cold then that's reason enough for you to stay at home with me," he whimpered, clutching his paws around the comfortable throw which Cathie had brought upstairs for him, "I know it's cold everywhere in the US at the moment and me and Mr. B. are freezing, yet you are sitting here before going off to work as if it were a summer's day. I don't get it at all." He pulled the throw even more closely to his famous white chest.

Cathie closed down the spiffy new laptop notebook computer and turned to Fredcat. "Look, I have to go to work; it's part of the deal to earn money for your food and to pay for your medication. I can't alter that. Much as I'd love to stay at home, I have to go to work." She went downstairs to put on her coat, followed by Fredcat trailing his throw.

Fredcat tried again, "I don't want you to go out with ice on the road, driving on ice can be very hazardous," he argued. "Why can't you have another snow day? I like snow days - you get to stay at home with me and you get paid so you're able to buy me stuff." He looked out of the window, but there was no sign of snow. Or ice, for that matter.

"Actually it looks like rain again," remarked Mr. B., You'll need your umbrella today, not snow-boots." He looked at the Mighty One shivering, "I don't suppose you'll be going out in the rain or to the lake for a spot of water skiing, Fredcat?" he joked; It was amusing to see Fredcat turning to stone whenever water was mentioned.

"We'll have less of that talk, thank you very much," sniffed Fredcat, "I don't go in for water skiing - or for any kind of exercise at all - and you know it. I find it all rather boring. I'm just not the competitive sort." And he marched off back to the study in search of his second Christmas throw. He did wish Cathie could have another snow day soon, though ...

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Monday, January 22^nd 2007 (number 904)

Fredcat versus Squire! Large image

Fredcat stretched himself awake, yawned - and froze. What was that noise? His excellent hearing (a great help when hunting) was telling him that something was upstairs in the loft. He listened again, and the tiny scrapes he could hear were, to his ears, as plain as the whiskers on his famous ginger and white face. No doubt about it - Squire was back. This was most decidedly not good news. Putting aside his strong desire to go back to sleep he went in search of his best human friend, Cathie, and broke the news to her. "Oh, no!" groaned Cathie, "We've got to do something about that, you live in a Fredcat residence, not a tree. We want no squirrels here! We'll have to persuade Squire that he has to return to the wild."

Fredcat contemplated this. He knew that cats had an extraordinary ability to return home if they'd been lost, but he'd always reckoned that squirrels were too busy finding and eating nuts to return to places where nuts were less than plentiful - which included the interior of his famous residence.

"Where are you going?" asked Fredcat, as he watched Cathie. It looked as if she was getting ready to go to work. "You're not going to work, are you? I need you to help me to deal with Squire."

"Sorry, my little one," she replied, "My new alarm clock did its thing early today and I am off to work now. You'll have to get Mr. B. on the Squire case. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll know what to do. Frankly, I don't like squirrels in the attic any more than you do and, after all, dealing with squirrels is just the sort of thing that males were set on earth to deal with." And so saying, she waltzed downstairs and was soon on her way.

Mr. B. did indeed know what to do and soon the man from Critter Control pulled up in his van and set to, sorting out the problem, "It looks like Mrs. Squire is working on using your famous residence as a nesting place, so I'll persuade her to find a more suitable delivery room," he said, kindly, "Then you'll have your residence all to yourself again, sans baby squirrels."

"I think I could tolerate a stray kitten coming to stay - for a very short time," admitted Fredcat, "I know Cathie would love to have a whole house full of felines but I value my independence and I'm afraid I wouldn't be happy were a fellow feline to be staying here for an extended period of time." He sighed, and considered having a tiny feline such as a Scottish Fold kitten staying in the attic, complete with feeding and water bowls, safely ensconced at the top of the house. He sighed again. Everyone deserved a little pleasure as the years rolled on - and Fredcat's desire was to have Cathie's undivided attention. He hoped she'd be back from work soon.

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Friday, January 19^th 2007 (number 903)

Steroidal Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat sighed and bowed to the inevitable. Since his last visit to the v*t's office he'd hoped to get away without any more trips in Mr. B.'s car but, alas, that wish was not to be realised. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, was determined to have the Mighty One complete his treatment and take him to receive a steroid injection. This couldn't be done at the Famous One's last trip to the vet's office because of the potential interaction between said steroid and another one of Fredcat's medications. Fredcat complained bitterly but gave in gracefully once the v*t's office was reached. Once there, Laura, the veterinary technician, expertly gave him a subcutaneous steroid shot and Fredcat relaxed. His weight had stabilised - albeit at a new lower level - and his other vital signs were good so he was soon released, uttering not squeak one all the way home. Laura had kindly compared Fredcat to her own ginger and white cat (of the female variety) and told him that she loved him loads. That was good!

On reaching home Fredcat scampered (yes, scampered!) out of the car, leapt up the steps to the kitchen area and wolfed down his cat food. No sign of ageing there! Mr. B. peered again at the v*t's age chart which suggested that five year old cats of Fredcat's age were, in human terms, 84 years old. There must be something wrong with the chart, he thought. At Fredcat's time of life he was ageing one year for every four years of human life so he would be the human equivalent of a hundred in four years time. Hmmmm...

"Right, Fredcat, set to and listen now, OK? It's going to be cold for a few days," said Cathie, "There have been awful problems for citrus farmers - ice has been covering much of the US, you know. We might not be getting our regular supplies of fresh fruit if the prices go up too high, You'll have to keep your nose inside your new Christmas throws if you want to stay warm of a night."

Mr. B. was worried by the imminent frost in North Carolina. "You won't be able to enjoy our emerging daffodils," he said, "We've already had the first daffodil appear in full bloom for three days now, and the star magnolia tree is a beautiful sight - THAT, TOO, IS IN full bloom, I fear the weather is all topsy-turvy." But Fredcat was more concerned with ensuring that his normal quantity of provisions would still be arriving in time.

Once that matter had been addressed, he turned his attention to his e-mails. "I've had a nice email from a pink pit bull terrier d*g." he announced, "Now normally (as you well know) I don't go much for canines but this one did write a nice email so I've included a link to his nascent website. It's the least I could do. I've already posted his email on my Guestbook." And, quite worn out by his conciliatory actions, Fredcat yawned, said he felt a bit sleepy, wished his humans goodnight and wandered off, slowly this time, to find his big box Christmas bed. Sleep well, Fredcat!

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Wednesday, January 17^th 2007 (number 902)

Mighty morphing Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, coaxed the Mighty One onto her lap and told him about the a new medication he was being advised to take by his friendly vet, Dr. M. "It's something quite new for you - it's called Benadryl," she said, prising open the bottle and filling the needle-less syringe with the prescribed dose, "I wish you'd take to having pills instead of this liquid medicine," she said hopefully but one look at Fredcat's face told its own story. Liquid medication it would have to be.

The dose was administered. Fredcat gasped and, wriggling free, jumped to the floor. "What are you trying to do to me?" he cried, as bubbles slowly burst from his mouth. Every time he opened his mouth more and more tiny bubbles dribbled out, slowly at first then increasing in number.

His face contorting as he slowly morphed from a handsome Fredcat into a scowling version of the same feline, the Mighty One looked plaintively at Cathie and demanded to know who had recommended this new medication. "I'm sure it's OK," blustered Cathie, "Our friendly v*t gave me the prescription herself." She shook her head as more bubbles escaped from Fredcat. She looked at the bottle of medicine more closely and said with a frown, "This Benadryl is bubblegum flavoured, Fredcat. Bubblegum! Who on earth would buy bubblegum flavoured medicine for a cat?"

In the background Mr. B. shuffled his feet and looked a tad embarrassed. When Cathie glanced his way, her eyes accusing, he mumbled something about Fredcat quite liking to try new things.

Cathie cleaned up the Famous One and after having watched him eat some fresh prawns to take away the strange faux bubblegum taste she, glaring at Mr. B. at she did so, collected the Mighty One and took him upstairs to the study where they began to look again at the new spiffy Fredcat laptop notebook computer. Someone entering the study would have seen one cat (Fredcat) watching another cat who was watching a third cat on a video. The third cat was pawing the screen and the second cat seemed to be pawing it back. How amusing!

"I'll have a word with the v*t," said Cathie, "If there aren't any other forms of Benadryl available I'm sure she'll come up with a different brand of medicine for you - or something. We need to look after you, you Famous One, you!" She smiled at Fredcat and turned her attention to the spiffy new Fredcat laptop notebook computer. It would take a lot of time to make sure that it was set up correctly for handling the Famous One's diaries - but there was time a-plenty for that; first off she had to get the Mighty One right.

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Monday, January 15^th 2007 (number 901)

New notebook for Fredcat! Large image

"I've been thinking," said Fredcat, "Now that I've passed the milestone of nine hundred diary entries, I think that it's about time that I had a full time literary assistant - and maybe a brand new PC, to boot. I do have an image to maintain, you know." Fredcat looked around at his best human friend, Cathie, and grinned. He'd heard of striking while the iron was hot. "If I were to have a new assistant then that would mean that you, Cathie, would be released from a lot of humdrum stuff and you'd have much more time for me - when I'm awake, of course." The more Fredcat thought about his suggestion the more he liked it - he couldn't think of any drawbacks.

"Hmmmm. I'm not sure a new assistant would help very much," said Cathie, "The person would have to be trained to your usual high standard - and that would take a lot of my time. There would be so much to learn about how your famous Diary is created, from the moment you start one of your dictations right up to the moment it's zapped onto your intawebs. And I certainly wouldn't want a messy person who would clutter the room up with their things. They would have to be very tidy," She nodded her head vigorously to emphasise the point.

Then, of course, Mr. B. had to put his oar in, "The person would have to have very quick reaction times, Fredcat - we couldn't waste time whilst they picked at the keyboard, hitting one key slowly after another; that would never do." The others looked at him askance - Mr. B. was by no means the fastest or most accurate typist in the world (or even in the Fredcat residence).

"Tell you what," said Cathie, "How's about this for an idea - let's get a spiffy new laptop computer, hey? That way we could move it around your famous residence, and I could type away with you nestled nearby - I could work wherever you happened to be!" Fredcat looked at Cathie through narrowed eyes. This wasn't a full time literary assistant by any means, but the idea of a compromise began to take root in his famous brain.

"A laptop PC! That sounds ideal," he said, "I could sit on your lap whist you worked and then I'd have the best of both worlds, I'm sure I'd be the envy of all those other cats out there, there must be hundreds and hundreds of them who'd love to live like that." He sounded quite pleased, thoughts of an assistant fading fast.

"It's a deal then," said Cathie, "Though I understand that laptops are now referred to as notebooks, but I really don't know why." She smiled - a shiny new laptop notebook computer would be cobs of fun for both her and Fredcat. She'd have to get one soon so that Fredcat could tell everyone that J de F, Patsy B. and Callie Cat, Teresa T and the Fur Gang and Susan, Weezer and Daisy had sent Fredcat congratulations on his 900th diary issue. But that whole full time literary assistant thing had been a close shave - she was very pleased indeed that she wouldn't have to share the Famous One with anybody else. When it came to Fredcat Cathie was quite a selfish person - she wanted Fredcat all to herself. And who could blame her!

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Friday, January 12^th 2007 (number 900)

Nine hundred Fredcats! Large image

It took a while to sink in but when Mr. B. told everyone that Fredcat had just completed the dictation of his nine hundredth famous Diary entry, the Famous One was momentarily stunned. "Has it come to this?" he mewsed, quietly, "There are no more numbers for my diary! Have I reached the end of the road with my mewsings? Will some large gentle feline presence reach a paw down from above while saying something like, "Well done, my trusty friend, you can now rest and play at catching things with me." He shook his head, dazed, while Mr. B. droned on about how the Diary had progressed over the years. No sonorous voice sounded, and no large hand, feline or otherwise, reached downwards to whisk the Famous One away.

"Are you alright?" asked Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "You're looking a tad spaced out. Don't let that number get to you, Little One. Are you tired? Are you sleeping properly? Are you hungry?" That did it - Fredcat knew full well that he must be ill if he couldn't respond quickly to the hungry question. He thought, strangely, he might be getting obese, he wouldn't like that very much; he'd always fancied himself as having the build of a racing snake. He'd have to consider this question with care; as a famous feline spy he couldn't very well wriggle through narrow gaps in search of ne'er-do-wells if he were a tubby Famous feline.

"Do you think I should go on a diet, Cathie? Take some weight loss pills or something?" he asked. He sounded worried. He knew that medicine had come a long way in his lifetime, but Cathie quickly reassured him that he was definitely not fat - or even the slightest bit overweight. Indeed, privately, she'd been growing concerned that her best and only cat might be losing weight and, with Mr. B.'s assistance, she'd been keeping an eye on the Famous One's weight using a trusty set of bathroom scales.

"You don't need pills to lose weight, Fredcat," Cathie said, firmly, "That sort of things strictly for d*gs, I'll have you know. A little bit of exercise running up and down stairs here will keep you nice and trim - and stop sniffing around Mr. B. for treats; that's a sure way to put on extra ounces." Fredcat frowned, and a few more bits of ginger and white fur flew off for Mr. B. to cleanup later. Neither Fredcat nor Cathie liked being told to exercise.

Mr. B. peered over at Fredcat and remarked that perhaps it was time for Fredcat to knock it on the head - perhaps some other cat would take over his Famous Diary from him; the Grumpy One had heard that scientists had developed a robotic cat who could do all sorts of wonderful things. Maybe that could carry out Fredcat's Diary duties?

When the dust had settled from the explosion caused by that less than sensible suggestion, Fredcat pronounced himself shaken to the core. Have his Diary taken over by a robotic cat?!?! No, sir, he was not a commodity to be outsourced to some far flung factory, thank you very much! "Perish the thought, you bounder, you! I shall soldier on!" he thundered, "There must be a way around this nine hundred number thingy!" And do you know what, Constant Reader? There was - as you shall see for yourself when you return on Monday.

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Wednesday, January 10^th 2007 (number 899)

Creditworthy Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat had rediscovered his big box Christmas bed. It now contained not one but two fleecy soft throws, carelessly ruffled, so that the Mighty One could nestle down comfortably. This was quite unlike human beds, which were invariably neatly tucked in (unless he got there first, that is). Fredcat reckoned a bed looks far better when rumpled - it's so much easier to curl one's tail around and about the bedding. In a human's flat bed there are too many opportunities for unsettling draughts. "It was very nice of Mr. B. to buy these throws for me," said Fredcat, brightly, "I hope he can pay for them. I see that a lot of humans are getting hot and bothered about the size of their bills now that the main spending season is over; credit card bills appear to be the worst. I'm glad I've avoided getting a credit card. I did briefly consider applying for one of these special feline credit cards myself, but I decided that all that messy money stuff should be left to you humans. It's what you're here for, after all." He snuggled down even more deeply into the throws.

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, snorted, "Mr. B. has money enough to pay his bills, you don't have to worry about that. Remember, it isn't very often that you go short of anything from either of us, my lad. He keeps a careful count of available nickels and dimes and Mr. B.'s well able to buy you another throw, if need be." She sniffed at the very idea. "Now climb out of there, pop outside, and take a meander around your famous estate while this unseasonably warm winter weather is here."

So Fredcat limped outside after smelling the crisp winter's air. It wasn't that warm, he concluded, but at least he was able to watch some birds wheeling around up above. "If only I could fly," he mewsed, "Then I could have some fun; I like playing with birds, I'd never wish them any harm. They're quite safe with me."

After a while he meandered inside where he found Mr. B. laying the dinette table for a meal. It wasn't yet ready and Fredcat knew that he'd have to wait a few moments more for his own turn. He climbed the nearest dinette chair and peered over the table top. Perhaps he needed spectacles, but he'd swear that the table top had become larger over time - or was it smaller? Rather like Alice, he thought. Ah well, down he slid and wandered slowly over to his feeding bowl just in time for Mr. B. to place the latest portion of chicken meat there. It wasn't turkey, but who cares? It was all good food and if Mr. B. was paying for it then all the better, the Famous One shouldn't complain. (Not that that's ever stopped him before!)

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Monday, January 8^th 2007 (number 898)

Cleaning up the Fredcat world! Large image

When Fredcat dragged Mr. B. downstairs to persuade the latter to provide him with a fresh bowl of cat meat he noted that the humans had completely cleared away all signs of Christmas. There were no lingering bits of tinsel anywhere and the damaged and much lamented Christmas tree had been donated to the local dump (with the even more lamented English Christmas lamps which no one had been able to get to work in the US). The rooms looked bare - forbidding, almost - and Fredcat forgot his food for a few moments (wow!) whilst he investigated the empty spaces in the living room and circumvented the big settee and armchairs which had been moved back to their original spots, checking all was satisfactorily in place.

Then his sharp feline eyes spotted a pile of books high up on a shelf. These were Christmas presents and belonged to his best human friend, Cathie, who was very late in taking them up to her area of the study.

This would never do. "Come on, Cathie, we need to make my residence a tidy one. Take those books upstairs, they're messing up the kitchen. Today is National Clean Off Your Desk Day, so you might wish to set to in that area as well. I don't know, honestly. Upstairs is just a mess!" Fredcat stomped around a bit until more of his famous ginger and white fur tumbled off. "And clean up this flying fur," he growled, ignoring the fact that it came from him.

Cathie was a tad peeved, to say the least. "You forget that today is World Literacy Day, Fredcat," she said, "Don't you criticise where I choose to place my cat books, thank you." She grumbled on for a bit as she picked them up and placed them on the stairs for Mr. B. to take aloft when he was passing that way.

"Huh!" sniffed Fredcat, "If it's literacy you want then look no further than my diary, my famous diary," he emphasised. "Literature-wise, that provides a great start for most humans." The two continued grumbling, sotto voce, until they both became fed up and stopped.

"If you really want to get cleaned up why don't you take a bath, Fredcat?" asked Mr. B., who wasn't afraid to call a smelly rose a smelly rose as far as the resident feline was concerned. But Cathie didn't approve of this sarcasm and, picking up the Mighty One, transported him into the living room and sat him down on the big settee.

"Don't be such a grump!" she scolded, "It didn't take long for your Christmas spirit to wear off. Goodwill to all, man and beast, especially friendly beasts, is still the order of the day, I think you'll find!" Fredcat listened in, contentedly. He was comfortably ensconced next to his best human friend, and what could be better than that?

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Friday, January 5^th 2007 (number 897)

Director Fredcat! Large image

It was Twelfth Night - time to take down the Christmas decorations. Even Fredcat was happy to see them come down; it was no fun having a well lit Christmas tree when there were no parcels at the base among which he could create a cosy nest, so the tree and the rest of the Christmas paraphernalia might as well come down. One must remember that Fredcat, although possessing the sharpest sets of claws known to the feline world, was remarkably adept at not using them inside the Fredcat residence so the Christmas tree has always been safe.

The tree was always the biggest problem on Twelfth Night as it was not a real tree, cut down to make a festive creation, but a plastic edifice with lots of pretend branches that had to be fitted into plastic slots. Real Christmas trees tended to shed their needles throughout the festive period which meant that Mr. B. had to sweep them up for months and months afterwards as he kept finding them in all sorts of odd places. Plastic trees had their problems as well, though, because their branches and plastic parts were always breaking during their assembly and packing away. Indeed, the Fredcat tree had seen better days and now was a bit of a sorry affair with great gaps in the branches now showing. It wouldn't last another year and the Mighty One mourned its passing.

Fredcat looked forward to Twelfth Night, it gave him yet another opportunity to boss Mr. B. around and tell him what to put where and when; not many creatures possessed his oratorical skills. Once he had given the Grumpy One his instructions for removing said decorations he looked around and remembered his big box Christmas bed - he had to make sure that that wasn't bundled away by mistake! He was pleased to see that that was still there, tucked away - and inside he saw the new throws which Mr. B. had kindly given him as a Christmas present. He decided to test it out and found it wonderfully cosy. Some three hours later he yawned, left his comfortable bed and went in search of his food bowls. Thank goodness the humans never tried to eat from them; that would be most unsanitary!

As evening drew near Fredcat went outside; all the gaily flashing coloured lights had disappeared and the front garden looked rather bare. Most, but not all, of his neighbours had taken their Christmas decorations down on Boxing Day - but that would never do for Fredcat's famous residence!

He looked more closely at the garden and saw tiny crocuses springing up at the edges and, yes, the star magnolia trees were soon set to bloom. Some fellow creatures were stirring from hibernation because the weather was decidely warm for this time of the year. He yawned again and decided to return to his big box Christmas bed for a short nap. Mr. B. had been having him chase around after his new cat dancer toy, and the unexpected activity had quite taken it out of him. He'd check Mr. B.'s efforts at putting away the Christmas paraphernalia tomorrow.

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Wednesday, January 3^rd 2007 (number 896)

Leadership by Fredcat! Large image

It was a beautiful day. The TV weather forecasting team had got it right and the sun was shining directly onto the front door steps. The "butler" opened the door hopefully and Fredcat took several paces forward, stopping right on the join between the hall and the top step, where he pawsed, his famous ginger and white shanks shaking in the still sunlit air. Was this a trick? Would the sun disappear as soon as the butler closed the door? Will the butler let me have the door open for a while in case I change my mind? All these questions went through the Mighty One's mind and he had no answers to any of them.

In the end the warming sun drew him outside and the butler, sensing Fredcat's concerns left the front door slightly ajar even though the central heating was on (which was very kind of him). Fredcat looked around and saw evidence of spider's webs hanging limply on the shrubbery. He looked to see if there were any other creatures around which he could watch from his perch at the top of the stairs but all was still. He was so engrossed that he failed to notice the door closing gently behind him. The day was unseasonably warm and the temperature was expected to reach 70F by the end of the week though a sharp frost was forecast for the evening.

Fredcat sighed and settled comfortably on the steps. He thought of the latest batch of New Year's greetings he had received from Sharon Y, Callie Cat and Patsy and also from Teresa T. and the Fur Gang. He hoped he hadn't forgotten anyone and he made a mental note to speak to Mr. B. about his replies to them.

The coolness of the concrete was unlike the comfortable soft towelling robe his best human friend, Cathie, had allowed him to sleep on indoors over the last few days but the sun was wonderful. He looked around at a relaxed world which seemed to be moving in slow motion and remembered the days when he himself had chased after flies - and even wasps! He remembered when he used to try them out for their protein content (before deciding that they were not particularly pleasant).

He wondered if he were still up to being a world leader. It seemed that everyone either wanted to be or had been a world leader, but Fredcat knew that he was definitely cut out to be one. He had experience, after all - and that counted for a lot. He sighed again. Did one have to have a special skill that he knew nothing about in order to be a leader? Did one have to have an agile mind or supple fingers? He looked at his own paws and scratched his back until a lump or two of fur tumbled to the ground. He'd have to be careful and hide those, or Cathie would whip him off to the v*t's office quick as wink, so he quickly combed the remainder of his fur together and hoped she wouldn't notice. (I bet she will, Dear Reader - don't you?) He stopped worrying about it and gazed off into space, thinking of nothing much. Sweet dreams, Fredcat!

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Monday, January 1^st 2007 (number 895)

Resolute Fredcat! Large image

It was the start of a Brand New Year. Fredcat had mixed feelings about that. On the plus side he'd received some excellent greetings from Callie-cat and Patsy, Sox and Sue, Weezer and Daisy with Susan Lackey and also from Toby and Kate. It was lovely to hear from them. He purred happily and consulted his famous Fredcat calendar. It was already the year 2007 and he recalled starting his famous diary in June 2003. No, that couldn't be right ... He frowned, that would make it a lot of years in which he'd dictated his famous diary, but he was still only five years old, after all ... He gave up. Maths was just too, too confusing sometimes.

Thankfully he was feeling pretty much OK, though his snuffling and sneezing were always an irritation. At least with medication he was doing alright, and he had some nice round beds and wonderful throws to sleep in and on. Plus Cathie had received a wonderfully fluffy towelling robe for Christmas and it was already showing great promise as a potential feline sleeping place.

He sighed again. On the down side, however - his favourite human guest had now departed and Fredcat missed the deft massages and chuck-a-chins he'd received from that quarter. There was only one mitigating benefit to losing his guest - the availability of white turkey meat was improved (though not by much). Indeed there was by now precious little turkey meat left of any colour as Fredcats' best human friend, Cathie, had claimed her fair share of the spoils.

"Are you going to make any New Year resolutions?" asked Cathie, "It's the thing to do; all the humans try to make resolutions to make them better people or something like that." Fredcat was not impressed. He knew some apparently normal cats who were always trying to make feline New Year resolutions but their efforts usually came to nothing. He wondered if Mr. B. had made any since that worthy had been particularly nice in recent days.

"It's a brand new year alright," announced Fredcat, "I'm sure many of my friends will be celebrating today and I hope they resolve to continue reading my famous Diary. As far as I'm concerned, I wish all my gentle readers a prosperous, healthy and happy New Year - and many more to come."

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