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

Tuesday, February 28th 2006 (number 760)

Measuring Fredcat Large image

Mr. B. opened the front door of the Fredcat residence and Fredcat peered out. He settled gracefully a few feet from the door, examining the world outside. It looked inviting but Fredcat knew better. The air outside was unwelcoming; cold, probably freezing, although there were no icy patches on the lawn. "I don't think so," Fredcat muttered to himself, and slowly turned back toward his food bowls for a final after-breakfast lick of wet cat food. Mr. B. closed the door and followed the Mighty One into the kitchen. "Getting a bit fussy in your old age aren't you," he said, scathingly. "There was a time when you would have willingly leapt outside, smelling the cool spring air as you went. Look at all those lovely daffodils and budding Bradford Pear trees bursting into life. But, nowadays, it's just head down into your food bowls."

"Moderation, my dear Mr. B., moderation," said Fredcat, smoothly, "I've learned wisdom as I grow more mature and I like to be cautious in my approaches to new things. You may think that the world outside is spring-like and attractive but I see the potential dangerous situations and I take care not to fall into any traps - that would be a total waste of energy." He stood still trying to decide whether to go back upstairs to one of his three round beds or settle again in the freshly made up big box Christmas bed tucked away in his interior residence.

"If you get into trouble, I'd look after you," said Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, smiling, "I'm not sure, that if you were unconscious, I would go to the lengths of the human who gave the kiss of life to a non-human; that's probably going a bit too far." Fredcat looked at her in some surprise, he was so certain that she was his guardian angel in human disguise that to hear her say that was a tad off-putting. "What? You wouldn't go the extra mile? Not even for me?" he pleaded.

"Come now, Fredcat," replied Cathie, "You'll never need the kiss of life, I'm sure. But you must be glad that you're living in the US where one can go the extra mile - my heart belongs to imperial measurements!" But Fredcat, frankly, didn't care much for distance, whichever form of measurement was used - except for the number of steps it took him to go from one bed to the next. He was a cat who liked his creature comforts, and no mistake!

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Monday, February 27th 2006 (number 759)

Overdue heroics! Large image

Fredcat was resting in his new big box Christmas bed and Mr. B. frowned. "That feline seems to spend a lot of time dozing or sleeping or just not doing very much," he opined, "If only he had the capacity to do some dusting it would help." The Grumpy One thought back to earlier times when Fredcat had willingly donned some dusters on his four paws and skated around the living room floor removing dust bunnies by the score. But the long winter nights and cooler temperatures had rendered the Famous One exceedingly fond of warm places - and who could blame him!

Mr. B. cleared his throat, which was sufficient to rouse the slumbering one. "Hey, Fredcat - how can you justify your self-proclaimed famosity whene all you do is kip all day?" There, he hadn't meant it to come out quite so abruptly as it had but the bell couldn't be unrung. He cleared his throat again, more nervously this time. "I mean, I haven't seen you do anything famous or heroic for ages."

Fredcat stirred, and climbed out of his big box Christmas bed. "Do you mind making this up for me, it's got a bit muddled up (even for my tastes) and the pillows need plenty of fluffing," he said, and strolled unconcernedly into the kitchen. Before he knew it Mr. B. had done as he was bid, rearranging all the interior bedding according to Fredcat's wishes. Scolding himself, he marched into the kitchen and addressed the Mighty One once more.

"You must admit you've done precious little this past month to justify your existence; your best human friend, Cathie, has been unwell and all you can do is complain about your various beds and your (claimed) lack of decent food. Have you no pride?"

"Just because I don't go gallivanting off personally on heroic missions with Supercat regularity doesn't mean I take no interest in these matters, you know. I have set up a training school for cats who want to be heroes themselves and it's proved very successful...Some cats prefer to stay at home and just guard their humans, but others are more adventurous and these are the ones you read about in the press." Fredcat pawsed and groomed himself. "I am the outward face of these heroes and heroines and I must take full credit for every escapade that's reported in the newspapers."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go wash and brush up - tomorrow is Mardi Gras (Cathie is more interested in its being Shrove Tuesday) and I need to be at my winsome best just in case any producer wants me to star in their fancy parade. I also need to prod Cathie to give those nice people at Google Video a new video for my adoring public - she did promise!" And off he strolled, leaving Mr. B. muttering under his breath.

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Saturday, February 25th 2006 (number 758)

Sausage time! Large image

Fredcat waited cautiously, listening carefully for any sign that he was about to be left alone - again - in the Fredcat residence. No, all was quiet; the cars were still tucked away in the garage and the humans were going about their early morning routine. He relaxed, and walked silently downstairs to the kitchen. There was a lovely smell of sausages cooking and Mr. B. was standing over the stove, turning brown bangers in a frying pan. "Would you like a taste?" he asked, amiably and, on receiving an appreciative nod of assent, sliced off a chunk of well cooked sausage and, chopping it into smaller pieces (to assist Fredcat in picking them up, bearing in mind his lack of certain teeth) placed them on a saucer for the Mighty One. Mr. B. watched in studied amazement as the offering vanished in a few swift bites. Fredcat looked up expectantly. Mr. B. wordlessly sliced a smaller chunk from the sausage and replenished the saucer. Same result!

When Fredcat's best human, friend, Cathie, came into the kitchen several minutes later she found Fredcat licking his lips with a hugely satisfied air and Mr. B. staring dully at an almost empty frying pan. "I don't know what came over me," he said, "One minute he was just nibbling a small taste of one of the sausage ends and now it seems that he has virtually eaten half of them." This didn't go down at all well with Cathie.

"No 'virtually' about it, mate - those sausages are my private preserve!" she stormed, "They're not for sharing with you males at all!" She took the remaining bangers and two slices of bread and butter and strode off to the dinette table muttering that Mr. B would have to go the market again for more sausages. "I want all the sausage next time, not cast offs from that hungry monster." She clearly was in a paddy.

"Oh dear!" said Mr. B. "I knew that some cats liked eating sausages, but didn't think that Fredcat was one of them ... I just got carried away, seeing how far he would go." He looked at Fredcat who, being Fredcat, showed not the slightest sign of remorse.

"Don't blame me!" said the Famous One, "You made the offer and I was only being polite in taking it up. I didn't even ask for seconds or thirds or ..." He closed his mouth, and pawed the last vestige of banger from his upper lip. Mr. B. was in a tight spot and Fredcat was almost beginning to feel sorry for him.

"Tell you what!" said Fredcat, "Let's go upstairs and get an early start with my daily diary, then you can show me how to make this nice new computer you're contemplating making. I've always wanted to build something really interesting with Lego. You can get all sorts of news from the intawebs you know, thank goodness it's here to stay!"

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Friday, February 24th 2006 (number 757)

Abandoned Fredcat - again Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, was supposedly staying at home for the day but Fredcat saw very little of her. No sooner had the Famous One risen, breakfasted and groomed himself before strolling outside in the damp morning air, than he heard the all too familiar growl of Mr. B.'s car as the Grumpy One and Cathie sped off into the murky day. They'd left a message for Fredcat which simply said, Your lunch is in the food bowls, we'll be back later!" Fredcat exploded at that. "What a nerve," he mumbled, looking at his food bowls; he was sure that his wet v*t meat would have dried out by mid-day whilst the new cat biscuits looked a bit soggy as if one of the humans had accidentally dropped a spot of water in the centre of the bowl. This was most unlike the humans and he started listing lots of complaints for when they returned.

It was late when the humans got back. Cathie held up her hands at the sight of Fredcat's cross little face and said, "Very sorry, chicken, but I just had to get out and go visit the Emergency Room at a big hospital nearby. It's a huge place and we got completely lost going around it. Then we mislaid some of the items we'd brought with us and there was a frantic search until they were found." She added that all sorts of people who stay and work in large buildings like this hospital often lose items, with many things ending up unclaimed. She thought, "Rather like the Lost and Found department in a railway station."

Cathie smiled through her tiredness, and said she'd met many interesting people, and they had discussed all sorts of medical matters with her. "Like Vicky - thanks to her, I'm getting to be quite an expert on some matters," she sighed, "What a shame I had to go there - I've seen enough hospitals to last me a lifetime."

"I don't really care for them myself," said Fredcat, "Especially not v*t hospitals! I always seem to end up with some part of me being shaved or prodded or poked about and I'd rather stay away from them, if you don't mind. But you've been away from the Fredcat residence for so long that I'm not sure if you've got time to type up my latest Fredcat diary. I'm quite excited as I've seen a wonderfully artistic way of presenting all the webpages which are linked to my famous Diary. Just type my name in and see for yourself!" and Fredcat preened himself before giving Mr. B. a big hint about not losing any more time refilling the Fredcat food bowls. Smart cat!

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Thursday, February 23rd 2006 (number 756)

Workaholic Fredcat? Large image

It was back to the usual daily routine today and Fredcat rather liked that. It was all very exciting being proposed as a US citizen feline but in his heart Fredcat had already accepted that he was to stay for ever in America. It was no big deal to move seamlessly from one culture to another, for a famous feline such as he. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, left for work, ready to regale her work colleagues with the details of her day trip out to the Homeland Security Centre in Charlotte. She hoped to be asked lots of questions from lots of people and was ready to talk the ears off anyone who even looked like entering her office, whether they were interested in the subject or not. Fredcat thought hard. What sort of document would he receive to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had been accepted as an American feline at last?

Later on Fredcat sat down with Cathie and started a serious discussion. "Just what changes will I have to make to accommodate my new position as an American citizen?" he asked, orange eyes bright with concern. "I mean I've always thought that I would be staying here in the US because of the quarantine laws that are in place operate in my home country. Actually, if you think about it, I live a rather lonely life here in the US since the nearest indoor-outdoor feline lives miles away, far too far for me to go visit."

"Will my being a US citizen affect my sleeping patterns? For example, will I be required to have a twice-daily siesta, like Mr. B.? (I've seen him sneaking forty winks when he thoujght no one was looking!) What about all the special English food that I enjoy from time to time, will I be able to order and eat it still, even as a treat?" Fredcat shook his famous ginger and white head in puzzlement. He re-positioned himself on the arm of the big settee so that he perfectly blocked the line of sight between Cathie's head and Mr. B.'s head. He liked doing this as it made him feel important (he'd never heard of the words attention-seeking cat". The humans were reduced to squinting around the Mighty One's head to make eye contact, but Fredcat seemed to neither notice nor care.

"Of course, now that I think about it, as a famous feline of two major world economies, I will probably be treated as one of the wonders of the modern world. Do you think I could go on a speaking tour and earn lots of dollars? Maybe I could build that palace for me and my entourage, yet!" Cathie looked at him in some amusement.

"We'll have plenty of time to go into the ins and outs of being a US citizen, and I don't think you're ready for a speaking tour quite yet. Before you go out to speak to an invited audience it might be best if you practised your communication skills at home for a while and checked to see if Mr. B. would like an extra blanket; he seems to have dropped off to sleep again." And, as usual, Cathie was right.

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Wednesday, February 22nd 2006 (number 755)

American citizenship for Fredcat? Large image

Once again Fredcat woke to silence. The humans had disappeared - again. "Harrumph!" he snorted, "They've gone off on some wild jaunt, I'll be bound; I just hope they've left me some decent food this time. Maybe they've put out some best fillet beef, that's certainly worth investigating." So he perambulated downstairs, more in hope than expectation. On the way there he couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of beefy aromas and the Fredcat head drooped when he saw the standard fare of v*t meat sitting neatly in his food bowl. Admittedly, it was fresh and there was plenty of it, but somehow it didn't seem right. Luckily, as a supplement, there was an additional bowl of nice new cat biscuits which Cathie had specially bought for him on Saturday. Now they were worth eating.

Then he smacked his head with his front left paw - now he remembered! His humans had gone to be interviewed as potential new US citizens at the Homeland Security Centre in Charlotte. Fredcat knew where Charlotte was - this was where he had first landed in the US over five years ago (his counting of time was a bit hazy - as was his reconciliation of time intervals with age - maths just wasn't his strong point). He hoped the humans enjoyed their trip to Charlotte and back, Fredcat himself had bad memories of Charlotte airport and on the journey home from there he'd shouted incessantly every mile until everyone arrived at Raleigh, 175 miles away. That particular episode had left his voice sore for weeks.

The humans returned home hours and hours later and Fredcat met them with a scowl on his face. "Why didn't you tell me you were going? But, most importantly, what have you brought home for me to eat?" Then, after a few moments of deliberation, "Does this mean I'm now a US citizen?" Fredcat liked to put his thoughts in the right order.

"What a day!" said Cathie, completely ignoring the Fredcat pleas for food. "We had to answer loads and loads of questions about ourselves and about the US and the government but luckily we were able to convince the interviewer that we were good people and they're going to let us become citizens." She gave a huge grin that glowed all over the Mighty One. "And you, my lad, are so famous that the Homeland Security people are going to let you stay because of your association with we humans. One of the Homeland Security people was reading your webpage with great interest as we left, I'll have you know!" She smiled as she said this, usually it was the humans who benefitted because of Fredcat's fame.

"We had a special breakfast on the way out, at a Bob Evans Restaurant which I liked so much that I instinctively wanted to answer Bob Evans to all the questions that the interviewer put to me. Luckily I kept a hold of myself and didn't try to make a joke (that's not clever - not with the Homeland Security people). Anyway, Fredcat, as it happened I did manage to bring you back some Cheetos, which I know you adore, so come here and I will feed you a few." And Fredcat pronounced himself more than happy with that.

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Tuesday, February 21st 2006 (number 754)

Hailstone horrors! Large image

Fredcat was nowhere to be found. Scrabbling noises gave some clue to his location, and his best human friend, Cathie, was puzzled. Soon a plaintive voice floated down from upstairs, "Help! I've searched and searched but I can't find my ski suit, my snow goggles, my mittens (and I need four of those, don't forget!), my ski mask or my boots! I've got my super jazzy sunglasses for when I'm not on the piste and my best woolly hat, but the rest of my winter gear seems to have vanished - are you sure you haven't thrown them out or sold them on eBay?" The Famous One was clearly a bit put out. "What's all the fuss about?" demanded Cathie as she met the Famous One, outside the closet, half-buried in a pile of clothes, "There's no snow where we live in North Carolina and the weather forecasts only suggest a bit of light snow in the higher mountainous reaches - if that. You're making far too much fuss."

"But I heard it! And I saw it," cried Fredcat, "It hammered down for quite a while; Mr. B. was with me - ask him if you don't believe me! It was white stuff so I know it was snow. It was weird snow, though - it was hard and bounced off the ground and bits of it rolled down the steps outside the Fredcat residence and disappeared into the shrubs below. I certainly didn't venture out in it." He shivered and gave a tiny meow.

"Look!" said Mr. B. "I told you if you stay inside when this hailstone stuff comes, you'll be safe and sound. It only hailed for about ten minutes at most and it's all melted now so you can put away your snow attire. You won't be needing that, unless you plan to go to the Winter Olympics, after all. If you really want to get dressed up in all that gear then you should try going underground. Maybe you'll meet a minotaur and have fun trying to escape his clutches." Mr. B. grinned wickedly, he'd been trying this game for half an hour and he hadn't got the hang of it at all.

"And hey, you, Fredcat - just look at this mess," complained Cathie, "The next time you go looking for some winter woollies, try not to leave the hall in such a mess!" Cathie was obviously cross. The two males looked at each other, eyebrows arching. Why did females bother so about the appearance of clothes? Most of them are hidden by other clothes worn on top, so what's the problem if they get crumpled up?!

"Well, just get them put away, right now," ordered Cathie, "And make sure they're all folded properly - or else! This will help you get the folding bit right, it's very clever," and she left Mr. B. and the Mighty One struggling to fold a simple T shirt. "Useless males," she thought, and made herself an excellent cup of tea.

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Monday, February 20th 2006 (number 753)

Salmon for Fredcat's tea! Large image

Fredcat had looked everywhere but the humans were nowhere to be found in the Fredcat residence. Finally he climbed through the cat flap to get into the garage and there was Mr. B.'s car - gone! "So that's it!" he thought, "They've gone away and left me here, foodless." He went back dejectedly into the bare kitchen, looked into his food bowls and was unimpressed by the fare therein. He'd been eating v*t cat food for several years now (no, not an exaggeration in his mind!) and he was beginning to look like a v*t. Then the noise of the garage door being opened stirred him and he tore back into the garage to see the humans driving in. Even from that distance he knew something was different. There was a weird cacophony of smells coming from the car and he couldn't place them ...

But then, one by one, he began to recognise the odours ... English food! They'd bought English food! His humans had been to England without him! He was extremely cross and he danced about from left to right on pairs of paws, as was his wont. "You've been to England and didn't take me!" he moaned, "I can smell Blighty all over the car." Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, got out of the car, scooped him up and wordlessly took him into the kitchen area and gave him a cuddle.

"We've not been to England, you daft thing," she said, "We've only been gone for a couple of hours - how on earth could we manage a 9,000 mile round trip in just two hours?! We've done the next best thing, though - we've been to a very special shop that sells lots and lots of English goodies like Wensleydale cheese, and bacon, and sausages, and Mars bars, and, and ..." and she quite ran out of breath.

She paused, drew breath, and continued, "Lots of people like us get a hankering for goods made in our old homeland which are only available in specialist food stores and I had this terrible yearning for something to remind me of home before I set off for my US citizenship interview next week. And I bought something really special for you from the store! I admit that it isn't from England but from Alaska - which is almost as far away from here as England is - but I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

She unwrapped a packet and spooned some of the contents onto a saucer. "See! It's a special treat of salmon for felines. Now, you're only to have half today and you can have the other half tomorrow, because it's a very rich treat and we don't want any upset Fredcat tummies." This instruction appeared to have fallen on deaf Fredcat ears because before the evening was out Fredcat had wheedled all the contents of the packet from Mr. B. by playing on his susceptibilities as a total mug; he even persuaded Mr. B. to tear open the package and place both inner halves side by side next to the empty saucer and soon they, too, had been meticulously licked clean.

Cathie sighed, and produced a rather attractive gold colored headband she'd purchased for herself and carefully draped it round the Fredcat back where it fitted like a glove. Fredcat let it stay; he quite liked being decorated from time to time, he viewed it as preparation for the day when he would be properly decorated by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II later in life when his exploits had received royal recognition. "Decorating me should remind all those humans out there that today is President's Day and I feel I have all the essential qualities that would help me to live in that famous Oval Office," he opined. Having made this (somewhat illogical) pronouncement, he gathered his strength for one final lick of the salmon saucer and set off for bed, checking that his headband was properly in place as he went. He was a happy cat ...

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Saturday, February 18th 2006 (number 752)

Testing for new staff! Large image

Now that Fredcat had assured himself of a decent sized readership (a number he was sure was envied by any uppity competitors) he felt that it was really, really time to put into operation something that he had wanted for ages. This time his best human, friend, Cathie, would not thwart him; he was so determined. He paced up and down the floor trying out various ways to broach the subject but each time he could see the steely detemination in her eyes as he imagined himself spluttering out his request. Even though he was Fredcat the Famous, he still found difficulty in getting certain requests past the humans and despite Cathie's obvious love for him, Fredcat had always found her implacable refusal to accede to certain needs of his so daunting that he usually talked himself out of even putting the question! Life could be so difficult; he wondered if humans reacted in the same way to each other.

Fredcat finally pulled it together and spat it out. "I need a new typist!" There, he'd said it. "I can't carry on with Mr. B. - he's hopeless." There, he'd given a reason. "I have devised a typing test and all the prospective typists that want to work for me will take this test and the winner will be ..." There, he'd said some more but, even so, he couldn't finish as he saw Cathie simply staring him down. His famous ginger and white fur began to ruffle and shake, and beads of sweat came down over his face, from where he knew not. "Oh!" he ended lamely.

"These typists would have to do more than just type you know," said Cathie gently, "They would have to do all the office work like filing (a horrible job in itself) as well as dealing with official Fredcat correspondence; the applicant would have to be fully conversant with some dangerous things like your paper shredder and be able to work the Fredcat PC and understand WORD and EXCEL and all sorts of other computer languages. And the applicant would expect a huge salary - just like me," she added, chortling.

"Look!" she went on, "not all felines are like you - with a massive brain able to carry out wondrous strategies and fire off memos right, left and centre to get the job done. You need humans like Mr. B., who, for all his bumbling does this work for you for free - a big plus in my book. Remember, some felines do good work for free as well - like Libby Cat who is a splendid example of a charitable feline."

Once again Fredcat knew he had lost a battle of wills against someone he usually though of as an ally. Annoyed with himself, he trotted along to see Mr. B. working at the Fredcat PC, duly re-typing the day's diary. "I suppose you didn't have much fun when you were younger which is why you're so grumpy now," he said rather rudely. Mr. B. stopped typing and actually smiled.

"Oh, I've had my share of fun when I was younger," he said. "When male humans are as young as you," he said, "They play with all sorts of mechanical toys like cars and robots. Boys love toys like that!" But Fredcat had lost interest in staff and shredders and toys and was feeling peckish (Mr. B. soon spotted the signs) so together they went down to the food bowls. Mr. B. may stay, thought Fredcat, as he munched on a new plate of cat biscuits. Yes, he may stay.

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Friday, February 17th 2006 (number 751)

Thousands of visitors! Large image

If Valentine's Day had been a highlight of Fredcat's wonderful life then today was the icing on the cake. Fredcat nudged his best human friend, Cathie, and said, "Go on, read it again!" He danced around on his two pairs of paws, rocking from side to side in delight. "Read it! Read it!" he demanded, getting hoarser as his voice rose to a shrieking level. Cathie cleared her throat in sympathy, " Well, my small feline friend," she began, "I've been reading your daily traffic statistics once more and I'm happy to announce that it appears that you've suddenly become very popular; yesterday you had over a thousand visitors click onto your famous diary and..."

"Yes! Yes!" shouted Fredcat, jumping in happily, completely drowning out the rest of Cathie's reading. "I've told you over and over and over again that I was famous - now will you believe me?" This last shouted set of comments was actually directed at Mr. B. who was gnawing his nails in a surly manner, trying not to let the green-eyed monster take hold of his soul.

"I'd better make a cup of tea," muttered the Grumpy One, "and get this Mighty One some sustenance, we can't let him fade away with that splendid aura of famosity surrounding him." His sarcasm was not lost on Cathie who looked at him and sniggered. Before she could muster a suitable riposte, Mr. B. carried on with some more muttering. "I bet he's been manipulating the data input; it's not that difficult if you know how to do it. Or else he's riding on a wave of Valentine's Day nostalgia and as soon as that's worn off it'll be back to a more normal quota of visitors." Mr. B. really was in a paddy.

"I can't help being famous," said Fredcat smartly, "I know Cathie had to pay out the pricely sum of five English pounds or about ten American dollars, when I agreed to come and stay with y'all. I was originally known as Fred - or Freddy - or Freddie - though I MUCH prefer the grander title of Fredcat the Famous, which suits my personality beautifully. That's why I get so many Valentine's Day cards and why I'm the star of so many personal videos on Google Videos. I'm sure Cathie is going to take another video of me soon," he added gratuitously. He stopped and looked at all his claws in turn, in a most irritating and thoroughly obnoxious fashion. He needed to keep his claws trimmed properly if he were to have to shake paws with all the big-wigs who would be trooping to the Fredcat residence for an audience.

"Just stop it, you two! Now play nice!" snapped Cathie at last, "We all need each other when we're sorting out these daily diaries and looking after the Cutie Sweetie Little One." Mr. B. blanched at this nomenclature but otherwise kept mute. "See here, Fredcat, this is what we'll do. If you keep getting this high count of daily visitors we'll give you another big treat, but if the numbers fall then ..." But Fredcat had said his piece and had now become a wild untamed feline once more as he popped through the Fredcat door to the outside world where he started to hunt. The humans inside could fight each other all they wanted; here in the outer world he was king and master, as always.

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Thursday, February 16th 2006 (number 750)

Milestones for Fredcat! Large image

Today Fredcat had reached a milestone in his famous journalistic life. This was the 750th time that he had sat by the Fredcat PC, dictating his famous Fredcat daily diary to his humans. In all this time Fredcat had ploughed on regardless determined to reach his public even though the Fredcat PC had changed as his dictations had constantly worn each machine into the ground. Even the fact that, in his eagerness to upload the Fredcat diary, Mr. B. had (once again!) blithely overwritten his 748th diary entry (never to be seen again - shame!) with his 749th entry could not spoil this momentous day. ”I've just carried out a complex and in depth analysis of the total visitors to my site - we've had over 180,000 visitors since I started my diary!" he said, in a manner quite modest for Fredcat. “There are many visitors who have followed my daily adventures from the beginning and that is mightily pleasing, I can tell you!” He looked around the study where he did all his famous work, and nodded gravely.

Then he considered the future and came down to earth with a bump. He frowned, thought, and finally pronounced his pontifications. "I need a proper secretary; frankly I don't think Mr. B. is up to the job any more, he is getting well past it.” He nodded hopefully in the direction of Cathie, seeking her approval but she was busy doing technical stuff with her webcam. “Do you think it's time Mr. B. took a sabbatical, Cathie?” he asked smoothly, “He needs a rest, a l-o-n-g rest!”

He continued, “I think we should seriously consider hiring a secretary ... or an executive assistant ... or even a receptionist to deal with Fredcat the Famous queries. If you can’t find a suitable human I could make enquiries elsewhere.” He sat there nodding his famous ginger and white head so vigorously that tufts of fur flew off in a gentle fluffy cascade.

”Let’s wait and see,” said Cathie, mildly, “I’m sure Mr. B. didn’t mean to lose your 748th daily diary entry. I kmow, why don’t you have another look at your many Valentine’s Day cards - or even check out your Goggle videos!”

But Fredcat had moved on with his thoughts. “Assistants. Everyone needs an assistant. Or help of some sort ... In the olden days there were knights in shining armour, galloping around on fiery white steeds, roaming the country looking to carry out deeds of derring-do, saving maidens in distress.” (Fredcat was not one to be accused of skipping platitudes, no, sir!) “Now that would be great - and very helpful!” Indeed, in his daydream, Fredcat was already imagining being one such hero because, of course, he couldn’t imagine being anything other than the hero of any situation. His imagination soared as his took his band of warriors up towards Camelot!!

”See here, Fredcat,” said Cathie, lovingly, “So many good things have happened to you recently that I’m sure Mr. B. won’t mind opening up a tin of your favourite tuna to mark this occasion. Then when you’ve had your fill of that I’ll come down and sing your praises whilst we watch the goings-on on the big TV. Then you can relax, and pop off to bed for a well-earned rest.” That’s a plan, thought Fredcat and readily agreed.

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Wednesday, February 15th 2006 (number 749)

Valentine bliss! Large image

Fredcat was so happy that he was singing. He had read and re-read his Valentine day e-cards and kept returning to his computer to make sure that he hadn't imagined them. He looked at Mr. B., almost smirking, and went to find his best human friend, Cathie. She was impressed. "Do you know who sent them?" she asked, but Fredcat simply continued to smile; he was keeping his cards close to his chest. "I expect romantic people all over the world are even now examining their cards, and wondering who the sender was," continued Cathie, "Although the recent commercialisation of Valentine's Day has taken much of the mystery out of what was a really fun day, in my opinion."

She warmed to her theme. "I see that a new movement has grown up in opposition to Valentine's Day," she said, "It's called Singles Awareness Day or SAD for short. It's designed to give comfort to those who don't receive Valentine's Day cards - but it also acts as a vehicle for those who really don't want to be reminded that they have no partner, or who just don't want one."

She continued, "I see that last Sunday, some people were celebrating Marriage Day as part of a National Marriage Week. It's all very nice for romantic people," she sighed, hoping that something, anything, romantic would happen to her.

Fredcat didn't even notice the tone of Cathie's musing - he was happy and he didn't care who knew it. He strode purposefully towards the front door which Mr. B. had kindly held open for him. It was a glorious spring day. The sun was beaming straight into the Fredcat residence and Fredcat reacted by stretching languidly. "Thank goodness we haven't had any of that dreadful snow stuff they've been having up in the north east of the country. They're having record snowfalls there yet it's another beautiful day here. It's so lovely to live in this part of North Carolina - we've had absolutely no snow all winter. Long may it continue!"

He was joined by Cathie, who stood just inside the doorway. She said softly, "A little bird tells me that you've received a Valentine's Day card from a d*g called Daisy." Fredcat froze. How did Cathie know about that?! Humans were supposed to be servile - not to pry into one's private affairs. He would never live this down if such a fact got out!

"Daisy is very nice," Cathie continued, remorselessly, "You'll have to do something about that card." Fredcat was too embarrassed to reply, or even ask who it was who had given the game away. He supposed that it was one of those games that Valentine Day card givers play to ensure that someone close to the recipient was given sufficient information to enable the recipient to work out who the giver was. "It's all a game," he thought, "I shall have to address myself to learning the rules in time for next year."

Later his attention was sidetracked away from his Valentine's Day cards when Cathie informed him that the Google search engine had accepted a second Famous Fredcat Video!! He now had two videos on that famous search engine! He was very pleased indeed and considered the timing to be quite perfect as his second video was all about him grooming himself in preparation for Valentine's Day - and the video had been released on Valentine's Day! What timing! He went off to find something to eat. Being famous could be very demanding and he needed to keep his strength up.

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Monday, February 13th 2006 (number 747)

Valentine's Day dreamer! Large image

Fredcat had been grooming himself all morning. He had eaten his breakfast with some gusto and had then repaired to the front doorstep where he started to buff and shine himself assiduously. When approached by his best human friend, Cathie, he had quickly scampered upstairs to the study, knowing full well that she would have some difficulty in following him. Clearly Fredcat wanted to be on his own. He hopped smartly up onto the desk and continued his grooming until there wasn't a piece of the famous ginger and white fur out of place. He was so engrossed that he didn't immediately notice when Mr. B. came into the study from the hallway and he jumped up startled when the Grumpy One coughed. "What's this then? Getting ready to go out on a date?" said Mr. B., jokingly, but he was nearer the mark than he supposed.

Fredcat squirmed but found that he hadn't the quick-wittedness to think of a suitable riposte. Instead he took the high moral ground. "Can't a famous feline keep himself smart, neat and tidy, then?" he demanded, loftily. But then his resolve broke. "Well, actually I'm looking forward to tomorrow, which is Valentines' Day, you know. I've been practising my buffing and shining all morning so that I'll get it right tomorrow, first thing. I know I have many admirers out there and I need to be in tip-top physical shape for the big day." So saying, he gave himself another lick or two.

A tad embarrased, he changed the subject. "I see that Cathie has been very diligent in getting me on the intawebs once more - I've been highlighted on the famous Google videos search engine (as is my due, of course)! And you just know that they accept only the very best videos! It's very nice to have one's famosity officially recognised." He noticed a spot of fluff on his front paw and brushed it off, furiously. "I know that it's a repeat of my best ever video but it's a good 'un, all the same. And it's on Google video! Did I mention that? Cathie was determined to have it placed there because she adores me so much." He looked at Mr. B. "I bet Cathie has had scores of Valentine's Day cards over the years, which means that she must be very popular. Just like me," he added hastily, just in case he might be accused of overpraising a human.

"Are you going to send a Valentine's Day card to anyone? I mean - to a lady feline friend?" asked Mr. B., but Fredcat shook his head cagily.

"Mr. B., don't you know that the sending of Valentine's Day cards is supposed to be a secret process, with perhaps a teeny tiny clue being given as to the identity of the sender? I know the card companies have leapt on the idea to make it a free-for-all with everyone sending a Valentine's Day card to everyone else but the whole point of it all has been lost, methinks." Fredcat pawsed, "I could send one to Cathie, but she already knows how I think and feel about her."

"But surely that's the whole point?" replied Mr. B., "Unless you TELL her, she might think you've forgotten about her and she'll be a tad disappointed. I think we'd better put our heads together to make sure she isn't forgotten this year." And both male heads came together. Let the plotting begin!

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Saturday, February 11th 2006 (number 746)

Winterland wondercat! Large image

Fredcat had been at his PC all day, click, click, clicking away with the mouse, surfing the intawebs. He finally called for assistance. "I'm supposed to be in the Olympics in Turin but all the references I've seen imply that I need to wrap up very warmly over there. I mean - look at these suggested clothing requirements: mittens - that two pairs for me not the usual one pair for most other folk - ski boots; fur coat; scarf; bobble cap and sunglasses, just to start with. Then there's all the ski gear with all-in-one shiny ski suits and flasks to keep drinks warm. Ridiculous! I can't be doing with clothes, I'll go just as I am." He shook his famous ginger and white head briskly.

He thought quickly, "Anyway, what does one need sunglasses for at this time of the year? The sun's hardly rising above the horizon at the moment," Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, took hold of the Mighty One and asked him which sport he was going to watch. "I'm not going to watch any of them," replied Fredcat, indignantly, drawing himself up stiffly, "I intend to take part - though I'm not yet sure which country I'll represent. I'm still very fit, you know. When I took part in the last Olympics I was real whizz at the pole vault - able to skim smartly up the pole and leap down the other side. I'm sure I broke several Olympic records that time. I was the best and only feline entry, you know!" He started to groom himself.

Cathie spoke very patiently, "Look Fredcat, these winter Olympics take place, as the name suggests, in winter! This year they're being held in Turin (that's in Italy, you know). And it's very COLD there. They don't run races on nice gravel tracks, instead they race around on skis, in the snow. You'll need all those items of clothing to keep warm. And can you actually ski, anyway?"

Fredcat froze in the act of grooming. "You mean temperatures below zero degrees centigrade?" he asked, and received a vigorous nod of the Cathie head in reply. "But I loathe snow and all that other cold stuff, I get lost in the snow when it's only about five inches deep! Will you come with me?" but Cathie shook her head.

"No fear! I can't stand the snow! I far prefer a bit of summer sun; I'm staying in North Carolina and I propose you do the same." Fredcat sighed, his dream of another Olympic medal melting away. At least his Cathie was home, safe and sound; that was just as good as having an Olympic medal ...

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Friday, February 10th 2006 (number 745)

Reunited with Cathie! Large image

The door of the garage to the Fredcat residence started to creak slowly upwards. For the past forty eight hours Fredcat had ensconced himself, wherever possible, in the Fredcat garage, waiting, just waiting. Occasionally the door would open and a glum looking Mr. B. would drive in, shaking his head gloomily and Fredcat would settle down again, waiting for the miracle to start some other time. But this time, some inner sense told the mighty Fredcat brain that on this occasion things would be different. He stood up quickly and almost ran to the garage door as Mr. B.'s car started its slow turn into the garage. There was another human sitting in the passenger seat ... and Fredcat knew, just knew ... at once ... that it was his beloved best human friend, Cathie!!!

Fredcat leapt towards the garage door as it sailed upwards, just missing being caught up by the rope hanging from the garage door (that was only to be used when the automated door refused to work). He felt like jumping up and hanging on it and ringing it like a bell, but such actions would be not be seemly for a famous feline like him. Cathie was quickly out of the car and limped into the house. Fredcat gave her a meowing welcome that was half way between a cry of relief and one of annoyance that she had stayed away for so long.

"What kept you? You took your time coming home! How was hospital? Was the ICU interesting? Did you bring me anything nice to eat? Mr. B.'s eaten all the creme puffs, profiteroles and brownies you brought home the last time you came home!" he tattled, the words tumbling out of his mouth. He almost gave a hug to the still warm engine of Mr. B.'s car, it was, after all, quite literally the vehicle that had reunited he and Cathie. The car had suddenly been transformed into an object of affection. But commonsense prevailed and so he waited patiently for Cathie to swoop him up and carry him around his famous residence.

When they were all settled inside, with a nice welcoming cup of tea for Cathie, and a cushion on her lap for Fredcat, the latter demanded to know what all this hospitalisation was about, but Cathie said that she had had just two hours sleep last night and had to have a rest. "Right now the events of the last two days have been a bit ..." (and here she sought for a suitable word for the Fredcat ears) "err, traumatic, shall we say, but the good medical staff at the Rex hospital have made a good start on resolving the problem. I'm afraid I still have a bit of a time ahead of me, my friend." Fredcat wasn't really listening, he was taking a simplistic view - his Cathie was home, and another day in the company of his best human friend was all that he wanted for the moment.

"You never answered my question about something nice to eat," he started, but as if to anticipate this, Cathie asked Mr. B. to break open the seal of a brand new packet of Fredcat's favourite cat biscuits. Even Mr. B. couldn't fail to carry out such a simple order!. And, with that, the Mighty One had to be satisfied.

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Wednesday, February 8th 2006 (number 744)

Motoring problems! Large image

Fredcat was worried about his best human friend, Cathie. She finally arrived home in the evening some two hours after her expected arrival at the Fredcat residence. She explained it all. "My car key wouldn't fit into the ignition and I had to get a serviceman to come out and fix it for me. He was very nice and tomorrow he'll come back to my workplace and complete the job with a new ignition." She glared at her car. Fredcat glared at the car; he didn't like cars and this was another nail in the automobile coffin as far as he was concerned. But worse was to come. Tuesday evening Cathie started to feel strange and Mr. B. decided to take her to the local hospital for a little look-see. The medical staff were very kind and it was agreed that Cathie would stay in the hospital ICU for a while whilst they did all the multi-various tests that hospitals like to do.

Mr. B. was sent home to look after Fredcat. Fredcat was worried but it didn't stop him moving pointedly towards the kitchen. "I haven't eaten for days," he said. This was of course a slight exaggeration but it had the desired effect. Mr. B. sighed and did the honours and they went to bed.

The next morning, Fredcat asked, "Will Cathie be coming home soon?" but he only received a shrug of the shoulders in reply. "Have you got enough food and cat biscuits in my residence for me?" continued the Mighty One, and this time he received an affirmative nod, given with a smile. "Are you going back to the hospital now?" he said as Mr. B. started to put on his coat, and Mr. B. nodded again. Fredcat thought that these questions were like pulling teeth; he much preferred to have a full explanation rather that dragging bits of info from Mr. B. like this."

Fredcat sighed and went back upstairs for a rest. He wondered if he could persuade Mr. B. to type up his daily diary for him while Cathie was away. It might not be possible. Finally he went upstairs and lay down smack in the centre of a pile of bedclothes that Cathie had left unmade. He could still sense the warmth of her even though she hadn't slept there for a while. "I hope she'll be home soon," he said softly, and went to sleep.

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Tuesday, February 7th 2006 (number 743)

Debonair dancing Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat was pleased that he and Mr. B. had bonded on Sunday whilst watching the SuperBowl. He knew that felines always sought out those humans who appeared (on the surface) to be antagonistic towards cats. So, whether he wanted to bond or not, Mr. B. had been bonded to Fredcat. Maybe it wouldn't last, thought Fredcat, but every little chink in a human's armour was a small victory as far as he was concerned. "I really liked the Rolling Stones performance," said Fredcat to his best human friend, Cathie, "Mr. Jagger certainly used the whole of the stage to strut his stuff!" (Fredcat wasn't really sure what that meant but he'd heard it used on several occasions and it sounded very grown up.) "He stomped around the stage just like I do when I'm getting a bit agitated - so that means he's getting lots of extra adrenaline, I expect." Cathie continued to stroke Fredcat, amazed at his tortuous feline logic.

Fredcat wriggled and, turning his head, looked Cathie straight in the eye. "We used to dance together a lot, Cathie," he noted, "We should start it again - and I think, being the male, I'm supposed to lead." Mr. B. laughed a lot at this. It was true, he'd seen Fredcat and Cathie dancing on many an occasion but it seemed as if the Famous One was more of a passive dancer - unlike his namesake, the debonair Fred Astaire. Fredcat and Cathie both frowned and Cathie opined that dancing helped one get out of a winter rut; it was all too easy to be a couch potato, like Mr. B.

"But you're only dancing for an audience of one," said Mr. B., "What if you had to get on stage like these rock and roll stars, how would you feel about performing in front of millions of people?"

But Fredcat was unfazed, "Look! Mick Jagger had to start somewhere," he said, "He didn't start off with millions of people watching; just a few mates from around the corner, I bet. Some of the songs were probably a bit simple and not very good but we all have to start somewhere. Now although this band is good, I wouldn't be happy about having to smoke cigarettes while performing with them - smoking cigarettes seems to be a badge of admission with them!"

But Mr. B. was not finished. "I reckon that these dancing bulldozers would be more graceful than you, when you're dancing, Fredcat" he opined, but Our Hero was no longer listening. Turning to Cathie, he asked politely if he could have some left-over SuperBowl perks from the fridge and she obliged, leaving Mr. B. to examine his own two left feet.

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Monday, February 6th 2006 (number 742)

Superbowl Fredcat Large image

Yesterday Mr. B. came out with words that thrilled Fredcat's heart with pleasure. "Tonight we're eating early because ... it's SuperBowl Sunday!" This was great news. Usually Fredcat was uncertain about the timing of his evening meal. When his best human friend, Cathie was out at work Mr. B. frequently forgot to fill his feeding bowls until way past six in the evening. Fredcat liked his meals to be spaced out regularly during the day and evening. He hated timing inconsistency. Sometimes when Cathie came home from work she and Mr. B. chatted until the light outside turned quite dark - and no one remembered to feed him!

But yesterday things were different. Mr. B. was determined to watch the final of the SuperBowl football game on the big TV on Sunday evening. Cathie, on the other hand, wanted to watch anything but the football game! She told Fredcat that a lot of people thought like her but Mr. B. ignored her. Soon the Fredcat residence was filled with the smell of cooking as Mr. B. experimented with a version of shepherd's pie which required Cathie to make some very tasty gravy. The aroma was almost overpowering and Fredcat totally ignored his v*t tinned cat food and looked imploringly at the humans for his share of the spoils.

When all the cooking and eating was over, Mr. B. settled down in the most comfortable big chair and Fredcat waited his chance. The beauty of it was that Mr. B. concentrated so much on the game that he didn't even notice the warm bundle on his lap until over an hour later when it came time for the commercials. At this point Fredcat crept quietly down and slipped under the dinette table where he groomed himself assiduously. Cathie came into the room for the half time show (the only part of the SuperBowl she liked) with Fredcat watching everything from the comfort of her lap. (On entering the room she had scooped him up and he purred contentedly.) But, all too quickly, the commercials were over and the football game restarted. Cathie made a hurried exit.

Fredcat turned to Mr. B. "SuperBowl or no SuperBowl, I need you to type up my Famous Fredcat diary, you know. Although, if you want, we could watch the rest of the game together from the comfort of the big chair. But first you'll have to scrape off the rest of the meat from the shepherd's pie casserole dish as someone left me out when it came to serving dinner!" This put Mr. B. on the spot - but he did want to see the game right through to the end. He sighed, and it was agreed that as the game was very exciting (for a change) they would allow themselves the luxury of watching SuperBowl XL and worry about the Famous One's diary later.

"Is there any chance that Cathie could help you with lap sleeping duties today, just for a change?" asked Mr. B. in desperation, but a quick shake of the famous ginger and white head confirmed his worst suspicions - Fredcat wanted a comfortable lap for the next hour or so and Mr. B. was going to have to provide it. Ah, well, there were worse things in the world to worry about ...

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Saturday, February 4th 2006 (number 741)

Sportsperson Fredcat! Large image

Mr. B. was out of the Fredcat residence nice and early on Saturday morning. It was a beautiful day; even Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, admitted that. She and Fredcat watched as the Grumpy One collected all his gardening tools together, placed them carefully in his green wheelbarrow and set off for the far reaches of the garden. Fredcat could tell that Mr. B. would be busy for quite a while. Which was fine because it meant that he would have his Cathie all to himself.

Alas, things didn't work out quite that way. Soon Cathie announced that she was off to the hairdresser to have her hair cut in a bob (early Beatles style, if anyone knew what that was) and so Fredcat was left alone to wander his Famous residential rooms sans human companionship. It was ages before Cathie returned and she immediately set to sorting out some computer problems leaving the Famous One kicking all four of his heels. Again. "Hello!" he said in as loud a plaintive voice as he could muster (he knew that plaintive voices weren't, by definition, suppposed to be loud, but the clacking of the Cathie keyboard keys drowned out all his best efforts at being plaintive). "This is me, Fredcat the Famous, I'm being left all alone here!" But, alas, 'twas to no avail.

When Mr. B. finally came in (all hot and a bit sweaty from his labours) Fredcat quickly backed off and suggested that a good shower might improve matters. Cathie was even less subtle. "The shower is already running so take those clothes off and get cleaned up," she ordered. Soon all was done and Fredcat approached Mr. B. for a chat. But the day's gardening efforts, coupled by a nice warm shower, had so tired out the Grumpy One that he had fallen asleep in one of the big chairs and nothing that Fredcat could do would rouse him.

Much later Fredcat woke himself from one of his many naps to find that Mr. B. had outsmarted him once again. The Grumpy One was watching a video on the Fredcat PC, showing goldfish playing football ("proper" football). Fredcat watched in astonishment - he thought that goldfish were rather dim creatures, not at all athletic, and wondered how on earth they were doing what they clearly were doing - and in glorious technicolour, at that!

Fredcat fumed and thought that he ought to do something about it. He took up a fighting pose and approached Mr. B. "Come on!" he said, "Enough's enough! You've been doing all this gardening exercise stuff, yet I know you're not the sporting type at all. Why - you'd be frightened out of your skin if you were up against a fearsome feline ninja warrior, I'd bet!" But Mr. B. smiled, he knew that Fredcat was more interested in food than fighting - and a fresh plate of beef soon proved him right.

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Friday, February 3rd 2006 (number 740)

Rainmaker Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat watched as Punxsutawney Phil popped out from his hole, saw his shadow, and muttered something about, six more weeks of mild winter weather. "Is that it?", Fredcat cried. "All that fuss and waiting around just for that?" He peeked outside the Fredcat residence, "Rain, eh! I'd better put my wellie boots and my sou-wester on." Actually Fredcat had mixed feelings about rain; compared to howling winds, freezing ice or thick snow, rain was considerably the better option. And he did have the benefit of indoor plumbing.

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, was less sure about the forecast, "There appear to be lots of different groundhogs," she mused, "And their prognostications are somewhat limited in substance. Do you think they know something that human weather forecasters don't?" She turned away and regarded her ginger and white feline companion. "Perhaps these groundhogs are suffering from ageing problems. Are we sure that it's the same groundhog each year? If they're more than one, then do they take it in turns to make these forecasts? It can't possible be the same one all the time - can it? Perhaps some groundhogs are more skilful than others - more like Chris Hohman than Michael Fish, if you know what I mean."

Fredcat agreed and said that perhaps the groundhog people ought to apply an age calculator test to their groundhogs before they let them out. "My age is well known to all my friends," he continued "One can't avoid one's personal details emerging when one is a famous as I, you know. I'm sixte ... five, just in case there is a single person out there who doesn't know. A most respectable age, for a cat."

Cathie's normally cheerful smile took a bit of a downward turen at this. She looked Fredcat in the eye and said, "This year, I'm going to have a special birthday, but I'm not going to tell you what it is; we females like to keep things like that to ourselves, if you know what I mean. Keeps certain people on the hop, you know." She nodded her head wisely and she and Fredcat exchanged cuddles, her secret safe.

"Fortunately my birthday is months and months away," said Cathie, "So this will give Mr. B. plenty of time to think of something really nice for me." She sighed and thought that she would have to find a really subtle way of doing this. Perhaps Fredcat would help? But her once-supportive famous feline had finally noticed the left-over pieces of beef in the kitchen and had shot off hungrily, food bowl-wards.

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Thursday, February 2nd 2006 (number 739)

Guestbook writer Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat was racing around the house, desperately seeking a human, any human, with whom he could communicate. "White rabbits, white rabbits," he muttered as he ran upstairs. ""White rabbits, white rabbits, where is everyone?" he muttered again, as he ran back downstairs. Eventually he found his best human friend, Cathie, and repeated his mantra to her - "White rabbits, Cathie! It's still a disaster, though," he moaned, quite distraught. Cathie looked at him, questioningly. "I forgot to say White Rabbits three times yesterday before I said anything else, Cathie, and now all my good intentions will be ruined - you just watch!" he cried, as he watched Cathie get into her car to drive to work. He sounded so upset that Cathie momentarily switched off her car engine and comforted him. "Never mind," she said, "Remember, the second of February this year is Groundhog Day so you can have the first of February all over again if you want and do things properly this time." Fredcat was dubious, but the suggestion sounded like a good 'un, so he went back inside the Fredcat residence, leaving Cathie to scoot off to work.

He turned on the computer and examined his website with a critical eye - it was becoming very large now, with all his famous diary entries, photographs and videos. He was quite the multi-media feline! He knew that he had been busy dictating replies to visitor emails sent to him over the last few weeks and he purred with pleasure. Then he clicked onto his Guestbook - and immediately yelled to the Grumpy One, "What is going on, Mr. B.?"

It was unfortunate for Mr. B. that Fredcat was so alert. As soon as the noise of Cathie's car had receded down the driveway, the Grumpy One had dived back into his still warm bed. With a bit of luck he had a couple of hours left before it was daylight and time to go shopping; a number of important items needed to be stocked up (especially large bars of chocolate). His head had barely hit the pillows when Fredcat's feet, head and all the rest of him landed squarely on his chest.

"My Guestbook is way out of date," hissed the Mighty One, "Go to the Fredcat PC right now and make the necessary additions, nobody will send me interesting comments about my famous Fredcat videos if you're not publishing said comments in a timely manner!" Mr. B. groaned and let himself be guided to the dreaded computer. What had happened to those halcyon days when he was able to take lies-in whenever he wanted? Days when he could feed himself and Cathie and not have this fearsome Fredcat leaping (literally) all over him? He daren't make any such comments to Cathie, of course. He sighed, and set to and, despite all his grumpiness and general groaning, the task was soon complete. Mr. B. sat back at last and pronounced a certain sense of satisfaction to Fredcat.

"Excellent!" said Fredcat, "Now kindly fetch me some tinned tuna and as soon as that's been eaten we'll start on today's diary." he grinned maliciously, "As it's Groundhog Day we might have to do it a dozen or so times before we get it right!" Mr. B. groaned again. Was this nightmare ever going to end? Perhaps he was really sleeping and it was all a dream ....

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Wednesday, February 1st 2006 (number 738)

Brilliant speechmaker Fredcat! Large image

Last night Fredcat sat resignedly in one of the big chairs whilst the humans listened to the President giving his Annual State of the Union message. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, explained it like this. "We need to be able to understand what's going on in the US so that we can answer any questions about the economy and so forth when it's time for us to take the citizenship test. It wouldn't do for us to be caught out because we didn't know some detail of policy that was talked about in this broadcast." Mr. B. was less sure about that and said, "Maybe it won't be necessary for us to know all this stuff, but we can't be too careful at this stage. How about you, Fredcat? Are you better informed after hearing the President's speech?"

Fredcat stirred himself and blinked, "Actually I'd fallen asleep during the early part so I missed the exciting bits. Did we win? Is extra time being played, or what?" He jumped down and quickly climbed onto Cathie's lap which (it must be said) looked very inviting. A book she had been reading earlier lay open on her lap - which made it look even more inviting. Before she knew it the Famous One was lying curled with his head resting neatly on the book thereby removing any vestigial hope Cathie had had of finishing the chapter.

"This isn't a football game we've been watching," said Mr. B. "The Super Bowl isn't going to be on the big TV until Sunday. No, today was all about..."

But he was cut short by Fredcat who waved some paws airily in the air and announced, "OK, if it wasn't a football game then it can't have been very interesting." But then he sat up suddenly. "I know, I could give a State of the Fredcat Residence message to all my readers. That would be entertaining." The humans eyed him suspiciously.

"My State of the Fredcat Residence," started Fredcat, imperiously, "Is that it need a good clean. The garden too is in a disgraceful mess. And when was the last time either one of your cars was properly cleaned? The whole place is a shambles." He stomped around a bit to let his humans know how he felt.

"Hold on," said Mr. B., "These State of the Union messages are supposed to be about policy, not some ill-informed criticism of things that haven't been attended to yet. Anyway, that's what you said about the Fredcat residence last year, if I remember." And Mr. B responded by doing his own stomping around for a bit. Soon they were stomping around each other, almost, but not quite hitting each other because there wasn't much room.

Cathie separated the two stomping males and said, "Why don't you talk about the good things that have happened, Fredcat? Like your brand new Fredcat stone in the front garden; your wonderful internal big box bed residence and especially your new set of extraordinarily wonderful videos? When you have finished telling you readers about that you could go on and dream up some marvellous things you intend to achieve in the future." But Fredcat thought that far too hard and decided it would be much better to be pretty vague about Hopes and Aspirations - if one was vague, one could always claim to have been misunderstood, couldn't one? What a wise cat.

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