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

Friday, April 28th 2006 (number 789)

Renyard watcher Fredcat! Large image

"Which are the cleverest creatures?" asked Fredcat, suddenly. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, was a bit surprised to be asked this out of the blue. She was reading the news on Fredcat's PC and it seemed that there were many fine individual instances of "clever clogs" animals around to make their case for their own species, but collectively? Of course she knew very well what Fredcat was after, a brief period of considered thought, a fine smile to light the face and total reassurance to proclaim Fredcat's species the winner with Fredcat the outstanding member of said species. But Cathie held off her reply for a moment, knowing that too quick and easy an answer would stop this game in its infancy and she was of a mind to take it a tad further. "Which do you think?" she asked gravely of Mr. B. without turning her head. The latter was patiently doing the ironing in a corner of the room whilst watching the latest football game on the little TV (with the sound muted to avoid Cathie's realising what was going on).

Mr. B. stuttered as he realised a sensible reply was needed. "Oh! Foxes are considered extremely cunning. Some of them even use exercise equipment!" he said, "And squirrels are noted for their diabolical cleverness but I suppose each species of creature is smart in its own way." (It must be noted, Dear Reader, that the Grumpy One's generalised reply owed more his desire to watch the football match in peace that with his intent to proffer a genuine opinion.) But taking a quick look at Fredcat he considered a sop was needed and added, "I don't think d*gs are in the running, despite there being so many of them around." He saw Fredcat smile crookedly at this.

But Fredcat's patience had run out and he could wait no longer. "Surely the case for felines is overwhelming," he stated boldly, "There are so many examples to chose from. Why, recently there was such general rejoicing when an army of cats routed a plague of rats to such an extent that my brothers and sisters were feted and lauded by the local townsfolk with a fine banquet in their honour." He stopped talking and waited for Cathie to reply.

"Look, I know what you're after," said Cathie, "this week is Pet Week and you want me to stay away from the pet shop in case you're upstaged. Have no fear about that - I'm sure both Mr. B. and your good self would have a lot to say if any other creatures of whatever persuasion came to stay here in the Fredcat residence."

She went back to playing a new and addictive computer game she'd found on Fredcat's intawebs. The two males heaved sighs of relief at this, neither wanted competitors for their attention to come and live at the Fredcat residence! Mr. B. was especially pleased as Cathie was so engrossed with her new game that she didn't notice what Mr. B. was up to - or, more likely, she was taking care not to mention it until he had finished the ironing. Cunning lady!

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Wednesday, April 26th 2006 (number 788)

Administrator Fredcat! Large image

"Do you realise that tomorrow is Administrative Assistants's Day?" asked Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "It's the one and only day in the year when we administrative underlings get some recognition for all the hard work we put in over the rest of the year." Fredcat looked at her with surprise, he'd always assumed that staff were paid, not praised. With Cathie, of course, it was different - she was so good to him (almost all of the time) that he thought he would do something special for her. "Would you like me to compose a song and sing it - just for you? I'm sure I could get Mr. B. to sing along with me." He smiled, showing a mixed bag of front teeth with a few gaps. Sometimes when he sang, Cathie thought she could detect distinct whistles though these gaps and she smiled at the thought of Fredcat and Mr. B. warbling off key together.

"Errr, no thanks," she said as politely as she could, "I'll leave all that stuff to my work colleagues. As far as the administrative work in the Fredcat residence is concerned, I suppose that as Mr. B. is the one doing all the rough work around the place, you ought to treat him as a special case."

"He is a case, and no mistake," snorted Fredcat a little unkindly, and Cathie groaned out loud at the pun, whilst Fredcat rolled around on the study floor in mock delight. "Do you know I found Mr. B. looking at a website on Earth Day," said Fredcat, trying to change the subject, "The Grumpy One was more despondent than grumpy - he said that UK residents are consuming more than their fair share of the Earth's resources. Of course statistics can be chosen to prove almost anything but I think he has a point. As for myself, I'm a good Earth person, I consume very little of anything." And he shook his famous ginger and white head until the fur flew, and started to groom himself.

"That's not entirely true," commented Cathie. "All that tinned food you eat doesn't grow on trees, it has to be canned and transported to you, and it is rather unfair that you've spent money on three round beds, and you go for a lot of expensive rides in Mr. B.'s car to the v*t's office, and ..." Cathie stopped, she knew she was beginning to make her point but Fredcat's eyes were beginning to glaze over.

"My friend Dana from LA sent me something showing that we felines are way smarter than you humans give us credit for - and I'm sure I'm less expensive than you," he scowled, "All those restaurants you go to (and from which you rarely bring back any decent d*ggy bags) must count heavily against you. I'm sure that the very small amount of tuna I consume in my residence is as naught compared to the very large prime steaks you and Mr. B. have when you go out." They both glared at each other, divided by a common aim not to appear wasteful, until Mr. B. came up the stairs and announced that it was Administrative Assistant's Day on Thursday and that they'd better start planning to celebrate. This caused the argumentative duo to burst out laughing and even Mr. B. joined in without understanding why.

In the end it didn't matter as Cathie said she wasn't in work on Thursday anyway, and Fredcat found that Mr. B. had put out a small tin of tuna for the Famous One, so everyone was satisfied.

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Monday, April 24th 2006 (number 787)

Partying Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, had been to the shops again over the weekend. The weather had been wonderful and she'd taken her determined self off to buy some steps for Fredcat but, sadly, she was out of luck. Her route had taken her to the pet store (she called it Pets R Lovely) which sells many feline related items but she returned empty-handed, much to Fredcat's dismay. "You've been near those cats which are for sale again, haven't you?" he accused, and even though Cathie looked him straight in the eyes and shook her head vigorously, he wasn't fooled.

It didn't take long for the Famous One to break her down. "But they were so lovely!" wailed Cathie, "There was one cat with markings not unlike yours who arched his back just like you do when I scratch you near the base of you spine, and he was so cute, are you sure that......" She stopped, sensing that the Mighty One was not in a mood to welcome feline competition into the Fredcat residence just yet.

"Look!" said Fredcat, "I have far more serious and pressing matters on my mind right now - did you know that mighty affairs of state are going on out there in the real world and I've always kept my mind alert when matters of import are in the offing. The Queen of England has just had her 80th birthday and has enjoyed a whole range of celebratory parties, and I'm a tad peeved that my invitation appears to have been mislaid. Are you sure that Mr. B. had been religiously checking the mail box every day? I know that there are, ahem, thieves about and if Mr. B. isn't the culprit then suspicion must fall elsewhere. I know that I must have been sent an invitation - Royalty and I are like that, you know."

He continued, "In addition, I was half expecting an invitation to the White House this weekend to check out the Chinese Head of State; now that I'm a true US citizen I'm expecting formal invitations from the US government to discuss a number of important business matters." He glared at Cathie for no good reason and stomped off to see Mr. B. to talk about mailboxes.

When challenged, Mr. B. denied that he was responsible for any mailbox errors but said that he'd heard quite a kerfuffle outside recently. Apparently a friend of Fredcat's had noticed a stranger about and had yelled for assistance, but Mr. B. hadn't noticed anything peculiar going on, he was too busy watching the big TV (again). "Doubtless it'll all come right in the end," he sighed, "I suggest you try some of that steak I'm about to serve up to Cathie - I'm sure she won't mind sharing with you; you are her favourite creature, you know!" The word favourite sounded a bit double-edged, thought Fredcat, I prefer to be The One And Only Fredcat, but he let it pass and gratefully accompanied Mr. B. downstairs to the kitchen. He would deal with Cathie later.

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Friday, April 21st 2006 (number 786)

Athletic Fredcat? Large image

When the doorbell rang Fredcat clapped his paws to his ears. When they had emigrated to the US his best human friend, Cathie, had insisted that they have some serious door chimes installed and the doorbell now played the Big Ben chimes - set on VERY LOUD so the tones carried to all parts of the Fredcat residence. Unfortunately, if one happened to be close to said chimes, the noise was deafening. Fredcat hated it and said so often but Cathie was adamant that Mr. B. must be able to hear the doorbell from whichever room he was in. "But he hasn't answered the door," complained Fredcat, "And my ears are still ringing! That stuff you insist on squirting down my ears can't be doing me much good." But it was all to no avail, Cathie's attention was fully on Mr. B. as he came loping leisurely into the hall and opened the front door. There, on the mat was a huge box, with a British postmark. "It's my food parcel!" cried Cathie and set to work opening it.

"Why did you emigrate to the US - and then immediately start ordering food from the country from whence we came?" asked Fredcat, puzzled. (He liked the words "from whence" and muttered them to himself a couple of times, emphasising the "h" in "whence".) It soon became obvious that there was nothing in the parcel for Fredcat so he joined Mr. B. who had gone back to watching the little TV upstairs. "Shush!" whispered Mr. B., "Keep your voice down, I'm taking a quick peek at some of the soccer World Cup previews ... I know Cathie doesn't enjoy sports much so I'm keeping the volume down."

Fredcat soon decided that the World Cup was a good thing and contentedly sat on Mr. B.'s lap for a while. "I can do that," he said at last, "Kicking a ball around seems so easy. I think I'll play for my national team." Mr. B. glanced at him, amazed at such precocity and, keeping a straight face, suggested that Fredcat go along to the US soccer team training sessions with a view to joining the national squad.

"That's not a bad idea - but as I was born in England, perhaps I should play for England," said Fredcat, forgetting his Naturalised Citizenship by Acclaim status for a moment, "I could be a really good striker, you know, I'd slash anyone who got on my way." He made a couple of slashing movements and Mr. B. backed away hastily.

"I don't think that that's the sort of striker either team is looking for," said Mr. B., checking to see that all his limbs were still in working order. "Why don't you ask Cathie to see what she thinks?" But Fredcat had to wait for Cathie who had disappeared to the shops to do even more shopping. When she returned she said she'd had to admit defeat.

"I'm sorry, Fredcat," she said, "I was looking for a pair of those steps that small creatures like you can use to climb up onto beds and suchlike. With the creakiness of your limbs becoming more apparent day by day, I thought you might like some help climbing up onto the bed at night." Fredcat blinked. Oh, the shame of it! Mr. B. laughed rather unkindly until the Famous One's glare made him stop. Athletic Fredcat? Maybe not this year.

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Wednesday, April 19th 2006 (number 785)

Bucketing down!! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, had left for work and Mr. B. had escaped being landed with the usual list of tasks to carry out in her absence. This always worried Fredcat because he knew that he'd be dumped outside at the earliest opportunity whilst Mr. B. got on with the (less than exciting) activity of watching ball games on the big TV. "Shall I tell you about my fight with the gecko again?" asked Fredcat, hopefully, but it appeared (to put it politely) that Mr. B. was less than interested. Fredcat persisted. "Wow, Look at those dark clouds - I bet it's going to bucket down soon, I'd better stay in and keep you company." For once thought Mr. B., Fredcat was right, and he quickly abandoned thoughts of watching football and began to make sure all the doors and windows were well closed.

It then indeed did bucket down, rain lashing down until one couldn't see even out through the windows. It left the outside looking like a right mess, with fallen leaves everywhere and Mr. B. knew that he had to do a lot of cleaning when it was all over. Fortunately the storm only lasted a short time yet when the cold front had passed the males looked despairingly at the resultant mess. "Err, I'm not going outside for a while, but you can, if you want," said the Grumpy One and, before he knew it, Fredcat found himself politely ushered out of the front door by the ever willing butler. The only way back was via the garage cat door and Fredcat smartly made his way around his residence towards said door.

He screeched to a halt however when he saw, in front of him, coiled near the green hose, the biggest creature he had ever seen in his garden. Whatever it was it lay there, all curled up, and hissed at Fredcat. "This is a new one," thought the Mighty Hunter, "I wonder if he and I can play a game together, like I did with the gecko!" But the black snake (for that's what it was) wasn't in the mood for a game - he was drenched and he wasn't happy. After a brief standoff, the feline of the pair did a neat sidestep and headed indoors.

Fredcat wasted no time telling all of this to Mr. B. but the latter responded in his usual befuddled manner (making some obscure reference to snakes on a plane) and then completely changing the subject. "I suppose I'd better set to and do some cleaning up of the Fredcat screened porch," he remarked, "It needs a really good cleaning - all this rain has finally washed away the yellow mist of pollen out there. You just stay in the living room while I get to work."

Mr. B. was soon absorbed in his work and at the end of the afternoon the screened porch shone. "Cathie will be well pleased with this," he said, "Now we can have our meals there." He turned to Fredcat to seek his approval but he saw that tacit approval had already been given. The Mighty Hunter approved all right - and was now fast asleep on the settee, shedding his famous ginger and white fur all over the cleaned cushion and dreaming of all the humans who could find out about him in the latest search engine he'd found on his intawebs. Sleepy cat ...

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Monday, April 17th 2006 (number 784)

Warmhearted Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat could not be found for ages. After the humans' evening meal Mr. B. had been dispatched to hunt Fredcat down. Even though he had walked across the front lawn, twice, he could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the Mighty Hunter in the very centre, alert and eager. But not to come in to the Fredcat residence. The object of his fascination was a small creature, a gecko, who had made his home in the walls and cracks of the crumbling Fredcat residence, on a "live and let live" basis. Unfortunately for the gecko it was more like "live and let die" as the pair were playing out the final chapters of the traditional cat and mouse game, only with a gecko this time.

"Now that you've cut the grass, it's at just the right height for this game," said Fredcat, breathlessly, as he trotted into his residence. "We really enjoyed that tussle, he had plenty of ground cover and I had to rely on spotting his movements as my eyes couldn't make him out clearly in the thick grass. I'm sure he's a good sport - I'm sure he's the chap I see playing a very laid back character on US TV, selling car insurance; I'm sure Mr. B. will get a good deal from him in the future." Frankly, Mr. B. thought otherwise; Fredcat's gecko didn't look as if it were much interested in insurance (more like basic survival) but he let that pass.

"Did you see the Easter Bunny while you were out and about?" asked Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "I believe he was out, all over the place. Mr. B. didn't buy me a proper Easter Egg this year (which was a bit mean of him) but he more than made up for it by buying me some nice English chocolate which I pretended was an Easter Egg in a different shape. Do you know that a German human is actually suing the Easter Bunny for making him dependent on chocolate?! He has a long way to go before he catches up to our (drum roll!! ...) Chocoholic Mr. B., I reckon." They both chuckled at this until Mr. B. glared at them crossly.

"Some people like these sweeties called Peeps," said Cathie, "I, personally, don't like them - they're very sweet, but they are cute, I must admit. What we need to do is send Mr. B. out on a mission to get more goodies, not just chocolate but cod filets and beef and nice things to eat." Fredcat nodded, he was all for that!

So off Mr. B. duly went out to the supermarket and did his allotted shopping to the satisfaction of all concerned. He told the rest of the Fredcat household that he had had to validate his purchases in a brand new, particularly feline, way! Of course he was kidding, but the others laughed. They were happy that he'd brought home more Fredcat and Cathie grub, as well as a tiny Easter Egg that had just happened to be at the checkout. You can't keep a good chocoholic down!

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Friday, April 14th 2006 (number 783)

Speechless Fredcat? Never! Large image

"Now that my ears have been cleaned and are getting back to normal I can hear much better," said Fredcat. "It's good because the weather is really turning much warmer and I can hear as well as see those little bird chicks now." He looked round hopefully to see if there were any small feathered creatures nearby that he could chase after and catch. "I think your days of catching fast flying bird chicks are long gone," said Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "But I'm really glad you've hearing has returned to normal. Now you're able to tell when we call you in for lunch." Fredcat looked at her askance, he had never knowingly missed lunch, or tea, or breakfast or any other meal break in all of his sixt ... five years. What a thought!

He wandered away, singing as he went, his voice growing louder the longer he sang. Cathie covered her ears in mock horror. Mr. B., on the other hand, covered his ears and growled something like "Stop that racket!" which had the immediate effect of causing Cathie to scowl at him and tell him not to be a spoilsport. "But today is World Voice Day" said our Maestro, and began warbling again. "Apparently we are obliged to keep one of our most precious assets, our voice, in good trim - and a good way to do that is to sing."

"If you're going to carry on like that I'll have to ask you to go outside where you won't bother we humans," said Mr. B. "Can't you find some quiet place to do that, perhaps in a recording studio somewhere?!" He grinned, nobody in the Fredcat household had ever seen one of those.

"Now that's just where you're wrong," smirked Cathie, "I've seen several, so there! And, by the by, I'll hear no more suggestions about sending Fredcat outside, the last time he did that someone not a million miles from here "accidentally" locked him in the crawl space, and it was only his magnificent voice that saved him from starvation - and worse." She shook her head in a flurry of righteous feminine indignation.

"Er! Let's move on, shall we," said Mr. B. hurriedly, "If Fredcat were accidentally locked inside a stuffy, airless, dark, crawl space it wasn't my fault and anyway he shouldn't have been there - and if he was there he certainly needs a cat bath right away!" Mr. B. was feeling triumphant; he'd always wanted to give Fredcat a bath.

But Cathie was in a forgiving mood and she reminded Mr. B. that today was Good Friday ("and Passover" chipped in Fredcat). This meant that Cathie had a day off from work and she wanted Mr. B. to make sure that she and Fredcat would be well taken care off over the next few days. "I'd like breakfast in bed for starters," said Cathie, "And Fredcat can have his meals brought upstairs so that we can all feast together."

"So long as I get plenty of Easter Eggs, then I'm on," agreed Mr. B., and peace reigned in the Fredcat household for a while leaving Fredcat the opportunity to say, "HAPPY EASTER TO ALL MY READERS." He smiled. It was good to be able to say that to all his friends.

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Wednesday, April 12th 2006 (number 782)

Skateboarding admirer! Large image

The humans waited patiently for Fredcat to emerge from his hidey-hole under the dinette table. "OK," he said wearily, "If I must go, I must, but I want it on record that I object strongly." He scratched his right ear and then his left, drumming his paws furiously. "That's the whole point of the visit," said Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, in a caring tone, "You've been scratching your ears for a few days and now they are getting a bit red; we need to know if you have ear mites or not. It won't be that bad."

And, so saying, she smartly gathered Fredcat up and whisked him quickly into Mr. B.'s car, talking to him all the time. "You just stay still with me and the journey to the v*t's office will soon be over." She was right, Fredcat only mewed loudly fourteen times during the three mile trip, well short of his record one hundred mews - and counting.

It turned out not to be mites - just a pair of ears gummed up with wax which was bothering Fredcat - and these were soon cleaned up. Fredcat was then sent homewards, shedding as much ginger and white fur as he could on Cathie's new black jacket (just to show her how much he cared for her and loved her).

When he arrived home he perked up at the proffered juicy tuna and quickly set to, gobbling it all up. "Your ego has taken a bit of a battering these last few days, Fredcat," said Cathie, "but you're doing well now. I see your Ego number is 4712 right now; I wonder what your readers' Ego numbers would be?" She smiled, knowing that it would take a heck of a lot to damage the Famous One's ego - he was a good 'un, and knew it.

"Don't you worry about me, Cathie" said Fredcat, "I'm famous enough to be on the intawebs and I'm beginning to believe that TV is old hat." Mr. B. threw up his hands in horror at the thought of losing all his sports channels. Heaven forbid! Mr. B. thought of himself as being a bit sporty but in truth it was more in his mind than in fact; some days he thought he could hardly lift his arms to put on his winter woolies without outside assistance. But spring was here, summer wasn't far away, and everything's better in the warm summer heat ...

"Come on Fredcat," said Cathie at last, "I want you to start going outside now that spring is here, perhaps you could show Mr. B. up by performing some wondrous feats. I see that this clever d*g has perfected a great routine for exercising, why don't you try something?" But Fredcat had heard enough and wandered off to find one of his famous round beds. All this excitement, now he needed a good long rest."

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Monday, April 10th 2006 (number 781)

Jockeying Fredcat! Large image

Saturday morning found Mr. B. and Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, engrossed in their newspapers and reading up about race horses on the intawebs. Fredcat found it very difficult to attract their attention no matter how hard he stared and stared. "Shush!" frowned Cathie, "we're very busy right now." "This is a once-a-year thing," she continued, "We each like to place an (imaginary) bet on one of the horses running in the Grand National, which is at Aintree Racecourse. That's in the area where I was born," she added, proudly. "We simply choose one horse each and the horse which is best placed is the winner. Sometimes it's very difficult to find the winner because many horses seem to stop part of the way round for one reason or another, but we're usually able to work out who's horse has won."

Fredcat thought for a moment and said, "What's the prize? And can I have a go? It can't be that difficult to pick a winner, all you have to do is choose the horse which runs the fastest - and can jump big fences as well."

Mr. B. looked askance at Fredcat and wondered if he was pulling his leg. "There's a lot more to it than that, Fredcat," he said, "The horses get quite close to each other, especially in the early part of the race, and if a horse falls it's quite likely to be in the way of another horse and bring that poor beast and rider down as well. It's a bit of a lottery sometimes. And I'm not sure if you'd like the Fredcat residence booby prize either - this year, it's to take the winner out to dinner, with all the trimmings - and to clean out the garage. In any case whichever of we humans win you'd be sure to get a share of the take-home beef because Cathie always insists that we bring home a d*ggy bag for you."

"Cleaning out the garage seems a very good idea," said Fredcat, "It's a bit of a mess, to put it mildly. I'll help, if you like." And soon he was scampering off to the nether regions to get a brush to sweep the garage floor. Bad mistake! Within minutes he was back sneezing his little heart out. "I think I'll supervise," he said, sighing, "I must say, there are loads of rubbishy items there and Cathie will have a wonderful time throwing them out." Mr. B. paled at this.

"I think I'll tackle this spring cleaning myself," he said hurriedly, but too late, Cathie was already on hand and starting to bark out disposal orders. "Hold on! The Grand National race hasn't started yet, we don't know who the winner is!" wailed Mr. B., but Cathie brushed his objections aside.

"You never win anyway and I want this place cleared up before we go out for this posh dinner. Some of these things were here before Fredcat was born and that was ages ..." She stopped suddenly, looking at the chagrin on the Maestro's famous face and quickly corrected herself. "Well, that was some time ago," she finished. "We'll need plenty of black plastic bags for this lot." She pointed at a large pile of indiscriminate bits and pieces. "Straight into the bags they go!"

Well, Dear Reader, into the bag the bits and pieces went and when it was all over, all members of the Fredcat residence were covered in soot and grime - but the garage sparkled. "Now it's time to watch the race and then off to get a juicy steak, and a take-away for Fredcat," Cathie sang. Which was indeed music to Fredcat's ears.

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Friday, April 7th 2006 (number 780)

Housework refusnik Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat examined his food bowls. The one containing wet cat food was almost empty and the bits that were left appeared stale and unappetising. There was a small quantity of meaty cat biscuits in the other bowl yet Fredcat knew that Mr. B. would be opening a new packet today so he had held off from eating the old biscuits to encourage their replacement. The new packet had been purchased from the supermarket only that day and Mr. B. had provokingly left the (unopened) packet in full view. The Grumpy One strode into view munching some biscuits (aka know as "cookies" in the US). He looked at Fredcat. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, in an irritated tone, and carried on into the kitchen where he poured himself a large glass of cool orange juice.

Fredcat restrained from heavy sarcasm but couldn't prevent an edge coming into his voice, "There appears to be a lack of available feline nourishment in my residence," he said, evenly, "It would please me no end if you would attend to it at your earliest convenience." (He meant, of course, "I'm really famished, there's no decent food here so jump to it and get me some proper breakfast pronto before I collapse in an ungainly heap.")

But Mr. B. was unfazed. "Sorry, old sport," he said (Mr. B. liked these ancient English expressions as he thought that his using them made him seem superior). But today's No Housework Day. It's everyman - and feline - for themselves, all day." He carefully peeled off three more cookies from the packet and stuffed them into his pocket for later. "Sorry, and all that," he continued, "but we must keep to the rules, you know." And grinning, he went upstairs to the study to play one of his numerous computer games.

As you may expect, Dear Reader, Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, soon heard all about it and Fredcat was so peeved that he rather laid it on thick, rolling around on his stomach, clutching it tightly and moaning as if he had been unfairly tackled at football (aka know as "soccer" in the US). Cathie soon put the food situation right and The Mighty One ate as if his life depended upon it. When Mr. B. eventually tired of his gaming and came downstairs he was berated on all sides.

This no housework day is a complete nonsense," said Cathie, "If you took more exercise and ate less and fed Fredcat on time you'd be so much better off. Take a look at these children doing simple skipping exercises - it'd do you a lot of good to have a go yourself, instead of guzzling biscuits all day." But after watching them Mr. B. felt hungrier than ever and went to the larder to find Fredcat and Cathie barring his way. Cathie spoke for the two of them. "We need some proper cooked food, if you please! Not just snacks, or I'll telephone for a reservation for an expensive restaurant meal for Fredcat and I, and you'll have to pick up the bill!" The Grumpy One considered his options and meekly agreed. Perhaps he could try No Housework Day another time...

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Wednesday, April 5th 2006 (number 779)

Hobgoblins in the grass! Large image

Fredcat sneezed, and his best human friend, Cathie, jumped. "Hey, Fredcat, you can stop that right away," she ordered, but Fredcat just looked at her and sneezed again. "It's the pollen" said Cathie and, turning to Mr. B., said "You'll have to close off the screened porch for a while until the pollen has stopped falling. It's very thick this time of the year and we can't let Fredcat sit in a pile of pollen dust. The stuff gets everywhere - it's impossible for him to keep himself well groomed without its affecting his sinuses." She was very concerned. Mr. B. reluctantly closed and locked the door to the screened porch and told Fredcat that he'd have to give it a couple of weeks until the pollen count had dropped to acceptable levels. "I'll give the whole room a good clean up when it's all over," he said, as he carried on with his other house cleaning.

"But it's a great day to sit outside," wailed Fredcat, "And I'm fit and well - and I have to stay insides because of this stupid pollen?? It doesn't make sense." His annoyance was deepened when he saw Mr. B. preparing to mow the lawn on the sit-and-ride lawnmower. Truth to tell, Fredcat didn't like the lawnmower any more than he liked cars but he knew that Mr. B. never offered him a ride on it so he wasn't really scared like he was with automobiles. Mr. B. put on the special mask he used when the pollen was high; it kept most of the airborne stuff away from his mouth and eyes.

"I need to keep the grass well cut at this time of the year," said Mr. B., "it's the season for rapid growth. I wish I had a automatic lawn mower that did all the work without me even having to drive round the whole lawn; cutting grass is a very boring occupation. Now I don't want you getting lost in the long grass now, in case you're snaffled by hobgoblins." This last remark really bothered Fredcat; his interests with grass lay in walking across it, lying in it and eating it and he hated the thought that there might be monsters lurking within.

"I'm going inside to look at the intawebs," he said to nobody in particular, and climbed the stairs laboriously to watch Cathie playing a new game on the Fredcat PC. It took some consummate skill and Cathie was so absorbed that she completely failed to notice Fredcat patiently watching her from the foot of her chair. "This is just terrible," sighed Fredcat. "I can't sleep in my favourite place, Mr. B. is mowing the lawn and Cathie is playing a game whilst I have nothing to do."

Fredcat fell asleep where he was on the study floor and that was where Cathie almost stumbled over him when she had finished her game. She understood his plight almost immediately and called Mr. B. in from the garden to refill the Fredcat food bowls. When the Mighty One had eaten his fill he stretched all four paws and was surprised to find the kindly Mr. B. lifting him up and taking him to one of his best round beds upstairs, saving him the tortuous climb once more. "That was good," he thought, "I could learn to live like this," and was soon fast asleep. Pampered feline!

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Monday, April 3rd 2006 (number 778)

Daylight savings cat! Large image

For once Fredcat was smiling early in the day. He had well and truly paid back Mr. B. for the tasteless joke played earlier by the Grumpy One when he had roused the Famous One too early for breakfast on Saturday, 24 hours ahead of the clocks going forward an hour on the Sunday. But his joy was short lived and the Mighty One was still smarting from the ignominy of being an April Fool. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, cheered up her feline friend and told him that there had been some wonderful April Fool's japes over the years and he and Mr. B. had not even come close to being in the 100 best April Fool's jokes, by a long chalk.

Cathie herself had risen early on Saturday and had sallied forth to buy shoes leaving Fredcat and Mr. B. to keep a wary eye on each other. But the sun was warm and Mr. B. had kindly left the door of the screened porch open and Fredcat had gratefully accepted the challenge to sleep there for many, many hours during the day. From time to time Mr. B. looked in and saw that Fredcat was behaving perfectly, he was not causing any harm to anyone so he let him sleep on. No feline trouble maker, he!

Fredcat rose when he heard Cathie's car re-enter the garage. "I wonder if she's bought me anything new and special to eat," he said to himself, and made his was into the kitchen. Already there were several packages on the counter-top and Cathie was excitedly telling Mr. B. to open them up to see what she'd bought. Fredcat blinked, there were shoes everywhere, different colours and shapes. But food? There was a definite dearth of feline foodstuffs, Fredcat noted sadly. Even Mr. B. was licking his lips as if he hoped a chocolate cake or two might be coming his way, but Cathie was in a different, and foodless, world.

"Ahem, why do you want so many pairs of footwear?" asked Fredcat, but he knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth that this was going nowhere. A sharp glance from Cathie momentarily silenced him. "But haven't you go plenty of shoes already?" he asked, "I don't even need shoes at all - or even paws if you think about it - as I walk on my tippy toes and claws most of the time." This did prompt a reaction from Cathie.

"You, my friend, have only two fur colours (beautiful though they are!) which you sport year in, year out. You don't have to change your fur - which is good as you don't have the bother of keeping up with fashion. But we female humans can change our shapes, alter out hair styles, put on all sorts of fashion accessories and we need to coordinate all of this with our footwear - and that's where different shoes come in." She swept all the shoes into her arms and stomped upstairs to try them on again in the privacy of her bedroom, muttering something about hoping that these shoes would keep her foot well, and keep her out of the hospital. Funny how shoes sometimes didn't look the same as when they were being bought in the shoeshop, and she wanted to make sure she'd bought the right pairs.

Fredcat sighed and went to thank Mr. B. for facilitating the Famous One's use of the screened porch. The Grumpy One was in an indulgent mood (for a change) and promised Fredcat that in future the door to the porch would be left open for him all day during the hot summer months. Fredcat pronounced himself well pleased with this decision and ambled off to check on the availability of beds in the porch - summer promised to be both long and hot, and he wanted to be well prepared.

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