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"Actually," said Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "in England, where you were born, My Famous One, it is the Spring Bank Holiday on May 31st. So we have two fine English-speaking nations, who are both celebrating public holidays on the same day, but for different reasons." "Sounds like a con to me," muttered Fredcat, but he said it softly in case the beef steaks mysteriously disappeared. That would never do. "By the way," said Fredcat, "why are you not joining the thousands of people who have driven off to the beaches or the mountains this year? It seems to me to be the thing to do." "Dear me," exclaimed Cathie, "and what do you think I would be doing just sitting in a car all day? I can hardly move around the house at the moment, let alone go sight-seeing on some distant shore - have a heart!" "Well Mr. B. could go on his own and leave us in peace for a while, couldn't he?" carried on Fredcat the Irrepressible. "Even that is out of the question," said Cathie, "you see, he, not being mechanically minded let the maintenance of his car slip badly with the result that he now needs a new battery as well as a replacement for a badly corroded battery lead. Even if he has it fixed right away it would leave him too poor to go joy-riding on his own." "And in any case, I need my very own grumpy one around the house to prepare my meals, to fetch and carry all my medications, do all the cooking and cleaning and..." "I get the message," interjected Fredcat. "You need Mr. B. around for all these mundane matters and I need him here to arrange my meals as well." And at this they both stared dismally into the evening sun. It seems that male humans have some uses after all, they both thought simultaneously, but neither said so aloud in case Mr. B. heard and became a bit big-headed about it all. As if ...
"I expect that this is on account of my being so noble in holding down the fort during Cathie's recent long period in hospital," he said aloud. "Not so, my vainglorious feline," said Mr. B. in a sarcastic tone. It has to be said that Fredcat immediately wondered if Mr. B ever spoke in anything other than a sarcastic manner but he did not want to precipitate an argument right now, during this hot weather. Mr. B. continued, "Cathie has been ordered to rest and build up her red blood cell count which means that apart from eating those pretty awful iron tablets, it is a good idea to try out some nice juicy steaks which have been stored in the freezer for a couple of weeks now." And, no sooner said than done, the steaks were duly BBQd. Fredcat hung around the BBQ for what seemed like hours (actually between 10 and 15 minutes) until the meat was ready for eating. Fredcat then tried out his own version of the staring routine which had proven so successful for Mr. B. until, joy of joys, a dish of chopped meaty titbits was placed before him - by Cathie. They were done to a veritable T! Mr. B. was smug about this, his first successful BBQ cooking, and soon a similar, unchopped, dish of meat had been set in front of Cathie. This was good, thought she. Unfortunately, Mr. B's own portion of meat had been slightly undercooked and, as he preferred it rather well done, it was popped back on the BBQ for a few minutes. Fredcat finished his bowl and started to groom himself. "Do you know the difference between rare, medium and well done steaks?" he asked of Mr. B. "Remember, this is not a trick question," he went on. Mr. B scratched his head and replied that he thought he knew but was willing to be better educated. Fredcat stared at him once more until the latter's nerve broke. "OK, OK, what is the differerence," he stuttered at last. "It's easy," replied Fredcat, "I like my meat nice and juicy, which we will call rare, Cathie likes her meat done medium, which is neither rare nor very well done. This suits her temperment!" "And well done?" queried Mr. B. "I have no real idea about well done, but if you turn your head you will see a perfect example of burnt meat, with flames leaping up all over," Our Hero laughed and, quick as a flash, Fredcat scampered off! Hmmm, what a helpful soul (not).
But all was not as it seemed. Once the recuperating Cathie was settled in her favourite armchair, feet elevated in the classic patient position, a cup of English tea within reach, she called upon Fredcat to tell her what had been happening in the Fredcat world during her enforced absence. Such an opportunity! Here was a chance for Fredcat to get his revenge on Mr. B. "He ...," began Fredcat, but Cathie, quickly spotting the vengeful Fredcat intent, cut him short. "Look her, my Famous Hero, I don't want a list of your gripes right at this moment, I am not well enough for that. There might be a time and a place later on for your detailed moans, but this ain't it. For the moment I just want to hear all about the nice things that have been happening in the Fredcat household." Well, this was a complete stunner for Fredcat. His combative speech was immediately cut short. "We did have some messages for you when you were away," was all he could come up with. "I have already been told that," replied Cathie, "Best friend Margaret, in particular, asked you to be very nice to Mr. B. because he has been having to act out the unaccustomed role of carer (a role he is especially unsuited to, given his grouchy demeanour)." Fredcat looked at Mr. B. who had started to stare again (a most worrying sight). "I see that he has been to the snakeless strawberry fields (forever!) again to bring you home some fresh, juicy fruit to help in your convalescence," Fredcat continued, lamely. Hold on, he suddenly thought, this was going nowhere - his words were heading all in the wrong direction. Next, Fredcat thought, he would be apologising for troubling Mr. B. for the occasional sip of cereal milk in the mornings! He looked outside the window and saw the sun shining brightly. His life was taking on a new meaning. "OK," he said at last, "I have been having a great time in the May sunshine, my best and good friend, Cathie. The chance to sit resting and contemplating outside, and even at times just inside the open front door, has been quite exhilarating, so much so that my recent illness is now a thing of the past - a distant memory indeed. I think, my dear Cathie, that I am cured of all those sneezings and coughings at last!" "Hmmm. I shall be the judge of that," replied Cathie, "but I am glad that your recuperation has progressed so well. My period of recuperation will take a few more weeks, I can tell you, and I want to hear only good things for a while." And you know what, dear reader? That is exactly how Fredcat felt himself, as he stretched and wandered off to lie at the foot of the Cathie bed - he had to get her used once more to his being around. Aaaah, it's so nice to have his Cathie Come Home again! (sic)
Fredcat rolled over and decided that it was time for his fabulous fur coat to be groomed so, hauling himself to his four paws, he made his way towards the living room to remind his best human friend, Cathie, of the finer arts of feline fur removal. But .... "Where is Cathie??" he demanded of Mr. B. who was watching a film on TV. "I'm afraid that she is still incarcerated in that medical place and will be home only when it had been decided that is time for her to come home," replied the latter, mysteriously. "Well, that's hardly a helpful reply, is it!" said Fredcat, "but I suppose that as you are the only one available you might as well get started on my brushing and grooming until Cathie returns home. I am so hot that I think that I will need quite a lot of fur removing today." "Don't worry too much about the heat," said Mr. B., "you will soon see a change in the weather as this heat turns quickly into a minor storm, with thunder and lightning, and then the rains will come belting down for a short time. That will be great for the shrubs and flowers around the house." "I see that you have decided to grow some tomato plants from seeds," commented Fredcat, "there are now hundreds of tiny seedlings ready to plant out. I am not sure if this is such a good idea - couldn't you have grown some beef steaks instead!" "Hmmm, Fredcat, you don't have the right idea about tomato plants - they merely produce tomatoes, my friend. However, they can be sold and then we can buy a couple of tins of cat food with the proceeds of the sale, if that is what you would prefer." "I think that as soon as Cathie comes home she is not going to want tomatoes or cat food!" commented Fredcat, sagely, "I think she is going to ask for a grilled steak - so you had better start cleaning the BBQ now, in readiness. By the way," he added, "make sure you put on a couple of extra steaks on for me, I can easily do those justice!"
Mr. B. stared at Fredcat for a long time without speaking. The staring Mr. B. was even worse than the grumpy Mr. B. and, for once, Fredcat felt nervous. At least with the grumpy Mr. B. it was all out in the open and one could deal with that, but a staring, wordless Mr. B. was quite unnerving. In the event, Fredcat needn't have been too concerned because, as all human females well know, male humans only occupy themselves with one thing at a time, and Mr. B. was thinking. At last Mr. B. spoke, "Sorry, Fredcat," he said, "but I have been thinking about your best human friend, Cathie, who has had to return to the hospital for some more tests and additional medication and we are not sure about the next few steps." "In fact," he went on, "to complicate matters, it is the next few steps that this is all about! It appears that Cathie tumbled down during her brief stay at home, and apart from anything else which she is hospital for, it has now been diagnosed that she has broken a bone in her right ankle which makes taking any steps difficult." Fredcat was very sympathetic and hoped that Cathie would recuperate quickly. "Well, well," he exclaimed, "so that's why she has been receiving all these messages, flowers, cards, e-mails and stuff! Now I understand - I didn't know Cathie's problems were so complicated! More than enough reasons to delay posting my diary entries for a day or two. But only on the assumption, mind, that you humans get your act together and keep to a proper timetable in future." Fredcat thought on. "You know, we cats have four paws and the temporary loss of one of them is just a minor inconvenience. Look at all those animals that manage to get about with only three paws or legs. Remember, Cathie has two good hands so it should be quite easy for her to get about on one foot and two hands, like we cats." This was a bit of a volte face, and Mr. B. thought he had better not report this conversation to Cathie straightway as, inevitably, it is the messenger who gets the blame whenever there is bad news to impart. He did, however, comment to Fredcat, that humans actually only walk on two legs and keep the two other appendages for doing many useful things, like, for example, getting Fredcat his daily portions of tuna and beef. So, on reflection, Fredcat, allowing good sense to overcome his otherwise ego-centric disposition, decided to let the matter drop but Mr. B. thinks that Our Hero had better watch out when Cathie sees this diary entry. I suspect the fur will fly - and most of it will be Fredcat's!
Then the doorbell rang and a beautiful bowl of flowers materialised, courtesy of the good folk at Cathie's place of work. One of her colleagues, namely Liz, called from work called to wish her well. This was a nice touch. Then another bowl of flowers turned up, a get-well gift from sister-in-law Jane. Later, even more gifts arrived, and the house resounded with telephone calls from family and friends, as well as e-mails from Donna M. and Susan C. There were also well-wishing messages from her many friends from the Healing Light and Hope Oasis boards. Fredcat was well and truly miffed, his nose well and truly put out of joint. "I just cannot imagine why you get all this attention, whilst I am constantly on the run from that grumpy Mr. B.," he scowled crossly. "It seems that every time I turn around, he is lurking there with that puffing pipette of antibiotics at hand, ready to swoosh some more of it down my throat. I have now got to that stage when I simply hide from him all day long, I am so peeved with him!" "Doesn't he provide food for you?" demanded Cathie in alarm, "he surely doesn't shout at you," she added, becoming more and more dismayed. Despite all the bottled up feelings of jealously and his general feeling of being upset by events, Fredcat could hardly massage the truth to the extent of actually fibbing about the treatment he had been receiving. So, prevaricating a little, he didn't actually reply to the question. "I think nobody loves me," he blurted out at last. "Good heavens, if that is the worst of things then you are not doing so badly," comforted Cathie. "There is nothing to stop you staying with me tonight and keeping me company whilst I recover my strength. Then I will be able to confer upon you the order of the nurse-cat, with a couple of stars and bars - as benefits a famous cat!" So she did, and all soon became well again.
Once satisfied with his repast, Fredcat turned to his best human friend, Cathie, and asked her why she too was not well on the road to recovery. "A couple of days in hospital and a day or so at home, supposedly resting (sic) and back to work you go," he suggested, callously. "That's what I have to do. There's no rest for the wicked here," he added, impishly. Fredcat knew that he was never wicked and he used the expression to tease his best human friend a little. "One cannot just pop off to work at the drop of a hat after being in hospital, you know," said Cathie, "one has to feel one's way back carefully, you see. You wouldn't want me to have a relapse, would you?" "Well alright," muttered Fredcat, a tad annoyed, "but how do you get a job in the first place?" Cathie sighed and said that when she first started out seeking employment, she went to an agency and was offered a job on a short term, temporary basis. "If all goes well you might be the offered a job as a full time employee - or you might not. Usually the job was short term and once the task was complete it was back to being unemployed." "Sometimes the job is deliberately advertised as a Temp to Perm job when, if you do well, you are probably going to be offered the job on a full time basis. You can still refuse the offer at the end of the assignment and the company can also change its mind and decide not to employ you. A good friend of mine is taking one such job and is wondering whether he will accept the job, if offered it on a full time permanent basis. It is a big step in one's career." "In England, the vast majority of jobs are assumed to be permanent and until recently one would not expect to be even offered anything else but a permanent job, but the times, they are a-changing. There are all sorts of wrinkles in the job market now, you see." Cathie stopped there, and waited for a response from Fredcat. But she was to be disappointed - for that feline had grown quite bored with even the thought of jobs and, having polished off the meat while Cathie was pontificating, had crept quietly off to bed. Mr. B. snickered. "Cathie usually does that to me," he said, to no one in particular, "and now the boot is on the other paw, good ole Fredcat!" Cathie couldn't believe her ears. She would have to do something about that feline .... tomorrow.
Outside perhaps? Unlikely, as Cathie was not known for strolling in the gardens. Her car, moreover, was still in the garage. Nothing for it but to confront the grumpy Mr. B. "What have you done to Cathie?" he demanded crossly." "Absolutely nothing," was the instant and indignant riposte. "It had simply been decided that she should visit the hospital for a while, that's all. She will be back soon enough." "You don't really mean visit, do you? You mean STAY in hospital, don't you!" Fredcat was clearly not so easily fooled. "Here I am, already being dosed for all sorts of complaints, and my best human friend hops off to the local hospital without telling me. No wonder you have been making my life a misery recently, feeding me pills one minute and then moving onto liquid medicines shortly thereafter - whether I like it or not." "You were far too busy sleeping when Cathie went to hospital," noted Mr. B., "and wouldn't have taken kindly to being disturbed, sick as you were. Remember, humans, like cats, can't usually choose when to be sick, you know. Cathie didn't exactly choose to have the medical treatment when she did, these things have a mind of their own, and one just has to get on and live with it. Do you recall that only a few days ago, you had a hacking, wheezing cough, along with watery eyes and were feeling so very sorry for yourself." "Mind, there is a big difference between you and Cathie," said Mr. B., sternly, "when Cathie is ill she takes all her medications promptly, and without complaint, whereas you, my mischievous moggie, do your level best to escape from your prescribed medication, you sneak to your food bowl when I am not looking, and then hop off under the table as soon as you hear me coming to dose you." "Well, have you ever tasted those awful pills?" demanded Fredcat, "they taste absolutely awful, there can't be a cat in the world who would line up to swallow one of those dreadful monsters." Fredcat glared at Mr. B. and would have developed the argument further but just then the telephone rang to say that Cathie would be able to return home soon. The atmosphere soon changed at the Fredcat residence. Cathie was all of a bubble with her experiences and the people she had met. "There was Carolyn, Jackie, Jennifer, Rose, Eva, Maria R. (and her friend Bonnie, who likes cats) and of course her good doctor, Jennifer H, and of course, all the others who saw her in the unconscious state, and who then disappeared to tend to other sick folk. Well done to all of them! I think that Rex Hospital is a nice place to be ill in if one has to be ill at all." "And what about me," demanded our belligerent beastie, "I have had to suffer all sorts of horrors whilst you have been absent, I hope it doesn't happen again," and he stalked off, quite miffed. "That cat needs a through talking-to," growled Mr. B. and, for once, Cathie agreed with him.
"And when they come out of the washing machine my clothes are looking very dowdy - and the white clothes look positively grey!" she commented. Mr. B. was surprised at this statement, for it was not often that Cathie took a great interest in the laundry section of Fredcat's residence. "You sound just like an advertisement for a clothes washing powder!" said Mr. B., a comment which, regular readers will not be surprised to be told, didn't go down at all well. But help was at hand. The local county people have ways of examining water quality, and soon an evaluation was in process. "You don't have sand in your water - but you do have a goodly amount of iron there!" said the water expert. "It may look like sand - but it is iron! There's lots of it about, you know. Install an iron filter and your problems will soon be over." No sooner said than done. The amazing thing was that it worked first time! Soon cool, fresh, iron-free water was sloshing everywhere in the Fredcat residence. Clothes were cleaner, whites were definitely whiter (seemingly whether lots of washing powder was used or not), shower pressure was increased, and life was good. The only snag was that the water was a lot softer, but Fredcat didn't mind that. "May I have a water supply outside the house to avoid my having to come into the house whenever I am thirsty?" he enquired. But here Cathie drew the line. "Sorry, sunshine," she said, "but you'll just have to pop inside for a drink like the rest of us. At least you have your new fan as well as an excellent supply of good water." So Our Hero had to be content with that for the time being, but who knows what else has planned for outside - sauna? hot tub? gazebo? He's full of bright ideas is our Fredcat! And he will be back on Monday to tell you of his latest adventures.
Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, immediately said, "Leave it to me Fredcat, I will buy you a super new personal cooling fan." Soon Cathie could be seen driving up to the Fredcat residence, her car loaded with a huge box. Mr. B. was soon pressganged into unpacking the contents of said box - but it wasn't a fan. The contents turned out to comprise lots of plastic and metal pieces and a book of detailed instructions on how to put a fan together. "Come on - piece it all together, then," ordered Fredcat, imperiously, "I'm baking here!" Soon Mr. B. was baking himself, as the fan slowly began to take shape. Up and down the stairs he went to the garage to get this essential tool and that essential tool. Finally he grunted, "There's a bit missing." "I don't think so," said Cathie, holding up the vital piece, adding, "This poor little piece had somehow struggled all by itself into the inner recesses of the cupboard." "How did that that get there?" said a surprised Mr. B., but his face told a different story - the story of someone who had been caught out. Soon, however, despite all the trials and tribulations, the fan was finished and Ianeyes, who was visiting, finally persuaded Fredcat to pose for a photograph in front of the fan, prior to the big switch on. "About time!" said Fredcat, "I can't see that Mr. B. ever getting a job in a construction company." But the fan actually worked purrfectly well first time and even the grumpy Mr. B. was pleased - even if he had missed all of his favourite TV programmes this evening. Life can be hard for Mr. B. sometimes ...
Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, decided to show the Famous One just how food can be produced at home. She bought three packets of tomato seeds and persuaded Mr. B. to place some soil in a tray. The seeds came in different sizes, so large seeds were individually pressed into the soil whilst the small ones were simply scattered over the soil and raked in with a fork. Then the tray was watered and left. "Is that it?" declared Fredcat, with surprise, "is that how I get my packets of tender beefy chunks?" He sounded more than doubtful. "Just wait and see," said Cathie confidently and sure enough, a few days later, little shoots appeared, each with two tiny leaves. Hundreds of phototropic shoots! "They don't look much like tomatoes," said Fredcat in disgust, "and in any case, if you hadn't already noticed, I am not a great lover of tomatoes. "But have you seen the mint that we are also growing?" Cathie persisted. "It goes very well with potatoes you know." "I don't like potatoes either," replied Fredcat, "and as for mint - I think I might even prefer catnip. Except that I am one of the small proportion of cats that don't find catnip at all appealing. One can either take it or leave it - and I am one of those who like to leave it!" Cathie thought that this educational experiment was not going well, so she switched to another tack. "Try this new yoghurt! It's a natural food that is quite easy to prepare and package." "Now you're talking," said The Famous (Fussy) One, "I know several cats who make a great clamour for yoghurt - me included!" Lucky boy ...
Fredcat didn't like the leaf-blower and hid as far away as possible as Mr. B. lugged the infernal machine down from its hook on the garage wall. Mr. B., on the other hand, liked using the leaf-blower as he was able to charge around the garden making a huge, noisy racket, giving the general appearance of working very hard, when in reality he was merely shunting the leaves from one messy pile to another to no good effect. But this time, despite all the prowess that Mr. B. brought to bear, the machine failed to work properly. It started, coughed a few times, then promptly died. No matter which controls were fiddled with - choke in, choke out, speed set to fast (picture of a hare), speed set to slow (picture of a tortoise), the result was always the same. No noise and no leaf-blowing! Fredcat was secretly delighted. It was a lovely summer's day, the air was fresh with very little wind, perfect conditions for sleeping. And now, no leaf-blower to disturb his slumbers. What more could Our Hero ask? Cathie was not best pleased. "If you can't make it work, take it to your brother-in-law, Dr. Ken," she said, sternly. This meant even more embarrassment for Mr. B., who had already been shamed several times about his lack of technical expertise. He liked to play with the big boys' toys, but couldn't deal with them when they went wrong. It didn't take long for Dr. Ken to solve the problem. "These two-stroke engines need a proper mixture and you have it set too rich!" he opined. This meant absolutely nothing to either Mr. B. or Fredcat. "Why, oh, why, can't one just pour petrol stuff in at one end and get the thing to work," Mr. B. muttered. Fredcat was quick to point out the inconsistency of this comment. "You are the one who is always on about following the rules of programming correctly, and who is always so smug about it when the computer gets it right only when you put in the correct code. Well, it seems to me that if you put in the correct mixture of petrol and that other stuff, the leaf-blower will work fine!" This was a mistake, as Fredcat discovered, because Mr. B. immediately, put on his brand new ear protectors (a present from Cathie) and turned the leaf-blower on at full blast. This sent Fredcat hurtling towards the far end of the garden where he stayed until teatime. Hmmm! One can be too smart sometimes!
Fredcat was continuing to fight his heavy cold (see his May 4 entry), and was sneezing fit to bust. The Fredcat vet thought that Fredcat most probably had several secondary infections to go with his viral infection, and had prescribed a host of antibiotic pills to deal with this problem. Fredcat's temperature was, surprisingly, slightly below the feline norm but the weather was so hot that Fredcat needed plenty of iced water to hand. Nontheless, despite his illness, Fredcat had done well in the last few days. If readers look closely at the picture accompanying today's diary entry they will see that there is a Mother's Day card sitting prominently on the desk which had been sent to her earlier by Cathie's son - and his fiancee - who live in England. This is an English Mother's Day card (which is why the wording says Mum instead of the American Mom). Fredcat had reminded Cathie that May 9 was American Mother's Day and, although Cathie had already celebrated the UK Mother's Day several weeks earlier, she was certainly not adverse to receiving more maternal praise from her Fredcat! It was approaching afternoon teatime and Fredcat was waiting anxiously for his replacement bowl of best cat food. Mr. B., who was long away designated as feline (and human!) food provider, was nowhere to be seen and Cathie was too busy combing the shedding famous Fredcat coat to get up to do the feeding chore. "Never fear, he'll soon be here," she comforted and, true to her words, Mr. B. soon appeared with wet hair dripping down his forehead. "I have just had my first swim of the year," he exclaimed proudly. "You must be mad!" they exclaimed in unison. "The water was 80F and was very pleasant," Mr. B. replied smugly." "Brrr! Give me a shout when it's 90F," said Cathie, with a shiver. "The only cold water I like is ice accompanying a nice long (preferably alcoholic!) drink." "And make sure that you don't drip all over me," said Fredcat, whose aversion to water was all too well known. "Thank goodness it's summer and the snow is a distant memory. And now, if you please, let's have some service in the food department," he said, imperiously. The grumpy Mr. B. made haste to comply. After all - it was Mother's Day and Cathie was watching carefully to see that Mr. B. continued to make her US Mother's Day a pleasant one!
Fredcat was not a great chaser of birds. He was a smart cat and knew that the odds of actually catching a bird were heavily stacked against him. But this avian arrogance was amazing! There was none of the usual traversing of the grassy lawn, no hunting down of any worms near the surface, no pecking of grass seeds which had failed to germinate. Just a sentinel, standing guard. And the weather was hot, far too hot to waste energy stalking. In any case, Fredcat's wagging tail would only give him away! Nonetheless, he fixed his feline gaze on the bird. A yellow butterfly whizzed over the lawn, circumnavigated the area twice, and left without affecting the drama. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, had earlier insisted that Mr. B. put up the hummingbird feeder and fill it with proper red coloured sugary water, which had the hummies darting in and out at speeds of up to 50 miles an hour. But still the bird's stand-off below all this activity was maintained. The sun was hot and Fredcat succumbed and fell asleep. Half an hour later he woke to find not one but two red-breasted birds! Both standing there motionless! This was all too much and, as hunger was striking, Our Hero left the arena, a clear loser. "How daft," he said to Cathie later, "did this all really happen or was it just some Dallas-like dream, like when Bobby Ewing woke up to find that everything that had happened in the last twelve months never actually happened at all?" "No, it happened alright, little one" laughed Cathie. "You're not as daft as Mr. B.," she continued, "he was sat watching you, watching the birds, and he fell also asleep! I think you're all as daft as each other." She then opened a new bag of cat biscuits for Fredcat - which was nice for him, and prodded Mr. B. to wake up so that he could prepare the evening meal, which would be nice for her!
"This is definitely for you, Fredcat," continued Cathie. "I have noticed that your current litter tray has seen better days and, frankly (and not to put too fine a point on it) there has been a marked deterioration in the services it provides. A new one is essential now that summer is almost upon us." The box was quickly unpacked and there, in all its glory, stood the new "Mega" electronic litter tray. Actually it looked much like the old one, but the electric functions worked properly and there was one additional facility. "Look!" cried Cathie, "it has a packet of odour masking gel - and a nice little walk up ramp to the box itself! Wow!" Surprisingly, The Famous One was not overly impressed and his initial enthusiasm was rapidly dimming. "Look," he pointed out, "this is not exactly a take-out meal is it? A juicy roast beef dinner, English chocolate bar, a new comfy bed - nope, it's definitely none of the above. One cannot really get hugely worked up about a new litter tray, doing so would be like you humans getting excited about a new bathroom toilet! I like my old litter tray, and I don't like changing to a new one, just like that. I need to be consulted about these things!" Cathie was a bit downhearted at this but set up the new litter tray nontheless, and waited. And ... the softly, softly approach worked! Within a few short hours, the new litter tray was in use and the old one was taken to the dump for disposal. Fredcat's lust for food was sated with a new bowl of prawns, and life in the Fredcat residence resumed on an even keel once more, but this time smelling even more sweetly than hitherto. Good for the humans as well as for Fredcat!
"This gardening lark takes up a great deal of your time," he remarked. "I'm beginning to think that you are deliberately making work for yourself to avoid doing essential housework!" "Oh dear," thought Mr. B. "is it that obvious? I had better divert the Famous One's attention away from that line of questioning ..." "So, Fredcat, what do you think of the latest vote to choose regional wild flowers in Britain?" he said, loudly. "I see that bluebells are the favourite wildflower in many regions of Britain." Mr. B. said that as if he knew what he was talking about when, in fact, all of his gardening knowledge came via the intelligent advice of his sister, Jane. (It was unlikely that Mr. B. would know the difference between a bluebell and a bluebottle, thought Fredcat, tartly.) Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, called to Mr. B. from inside the house, "I hope that you won't be long out there, I want you to clean up this hardwood floor, it gets so dirty; perhaps we should consider buying a large number of area rugs. They would make such a difference! What do you think?" Mr. B. blanched. That sounded like the voice of someone spending his money, and in large amounts, to boot. He dropped the watering hose immediately and tore inside, all charm and unctuousness, and began to sweet talk his way out of vast area rug expenditures. Fredcat, however, knew better. Cathie's plan was to get Mr. B. to clean the hardwood floor first - then the subject of area rugs would be broached again, just when Mr. B. thought he was safe. When would he ever learn?
So Mr. B. set to work and bought six-packs of tender colourful plants of various hues, including the favoured impatiens, and diligently planted them on either side of the driveway, dozens of them, until the mailbox area and its opposite corner were a blaze of emergent colour. Fredcat, however, was unimpressed. "This over-indulgent display may satisfy the Cathie demand for beauty but the colours do little for me," he complained. "As you full well know, I am pretty well colour blind, and all I see is a mess of differently shaded greys. It is like watching a colour film in black and white - except that I have no idea what a colour film is like, as I am pretty well colour blind!" "That makes your argument rather fatuous," smirked Mr. B., dusting down the mud clinging to his clothes. He had just finished watering the newly planted flowers so that they had a good start in life. "If you don't know what you are missing then how can you miss it?" Understandably he was soon banished to the nursery down the road to buy some attractive flowering cherry trees, so that Fredcat could at least practice his scratching on them when they had fully matured. When he had gone, Fredcat looked at Cathie and said, "Listen here, best human friend, what I really need are some nice scented shrubs and flowers so that I can do my rounds of the estate by smell instead of by colour. I use my very sensitive whiskers to navigate everywhere and I can sense the presence of objects to a remarkable degree of accuracy by using information I collect from tiny air currents as my whiskers pass by them, you know!" Fredcat was feeling rather smug at this, as his senses were clearly much better that those of humans. Cathie looked at the Famous One and said, "Look here, big head, let me see if you have the sense to work this out. See that comfy bed over there? Well, let's see if you have the ability to navigate to it in a direct line - and without any more nonsense from you." Fredcat had the good sense to obey, smartish, he knew when he had overstepped the bound. It was handy having a sixth sense sometimes to warn of impending danger!
"I think he has another upper respiratory infection," said the v*t. Fredcat had been eating, well, if not like a horse, then like an extremely hungry cat. In fact after setting him down on the scales, the v*t's nurse declared that the Famous One's weight had remained the same. "I don't think I have what the v*t said I have," retorted Fredcat. "I think I just have a cold! And you have doubtless heard of the phrase Feed A Cold, Starve A Fever, so it is clear that Mr. B. is not doing his job properly by providing me the nourishment proper to my medical condition!" The journey home from the v*t's office was very quiet, as now Fredcat can tell whether he going TO the v*t or returning FROM the v*t - and he was pleased to note that he was definitely doing the latter. When he was back home, he quickly leapt from the car, made his way to his food bowl and padded rapidly between said bowl and fridge - where he knew that a freshly opened packet of prawns had his name on it. Soon he was feeling a lot better, even if he suspected that he had a load of antibiotic pills coming his way. "Thank goodness I haven't got the dreaded hairball problem again," muttered Fredcat, "of course, if I have a viral infection then nothing much is going to solve that, but if it is a bacteria bug then I suppose I can stand taking pills for four or five weeks. You have to know that it won't be an easy ride for you peeps administering these things to me - I can be quite cunning about pretending to take them!" Naturally, as soon as they had returned home and Fredcat had been fed, the thought crossed Cathie's mind that Fredcat was conning her, and that he was just an attention-seeking cat - but she couldn't think along those lines for long because, after all, he is a very Famous Cat and is well worth cosseting. Ain't that the truth!!!
"You may be famous," declared Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "but remember that there are countries which have larger populations than both of these groups combined, so behave yourself and act a little more modestly, if you please!" "OK," said Fredcat, somewhat chastened, "let's go a little nearer to home then. The second set of celebrations were the traditional May Day festivities, that are part and parcel of life in the round." "When you were living in England, did you or you friends and relatives ever participate in any May Day activities?" enquired Fredcat." "Why yes!' responded Cathie, with enthusiasm, "once I went to see a typical May Day celebration when children from the local schools danced around the Maypole - there were Morris Dancers and an ice cream stall, and all the trimmings." "It was quite fun watching the teachers making sure that the littlest ones didn't dance the wrong way to disturb the symmetry of the pattern the children were weaving around the Maypole. I think that Mr. B. was secretly hoping that the children would get it wrong so that he could snigger," she added darkly, but Mr. B. protested his innocence (to no avail). "Was there a May Queen?" asked Fredcat. "Oh yes!" said Cathie, "and a May King as well. All the girls wanted to be the May Queen, but none of the boys wanted to be May King (because of the teasing they would get afterwards). In fact, as all the girls pleaded to be the May Queen it ended up with dozens of May Queens all over the place. Naturally, every girl there was a May Queen to their doting parents." "What does one eat on May Day?" hinted Fredcat, but Cathie recognised where this conversation was heading. "There's a new brand of cat meat just on the market and, possibly in honour of the May Day festivities, it has red, white and blue markings on the packet," she said. "I really don't mind about the colouring," commented Fredcat, "just be sure that the inside is full of good old fashioned brown beef and my May Day celebrations will be complete." And they were!
Before he could say anything, Mr. B. had scuttled away rapidly, to reappear a little later, cleaned up and back to his usual grumpy look. Mr. B. was quick to change the subject. "OK, Cathie, have you decided yet which of the many Fredcat the Famous jobs on offer you are actually going to accept?" Cathie was not fooled by this change of topic but, as she had eaten her fill for the moment, she thought that nothing would be gained by arguing the toss further with Mr. B. "I have plenty on my mind thinking about how to market Fredcat's site further but, never fear, I will come back to the subjects of the vanishing strawberries and my new job titles in due course," she confirmed. She then added, "Now, you know that I am very fond of cats and I do recognise how they can survive in the most terrifying of circumstances! Well, I have just seen a report of a quite famous cat (fear not, Fredcat the Famous!) called Cheyenne who, listen to this, has been reunited with her first best human after seven years. Seven years!" "I heard of that!" leapt in Fredcat, "it seems that Cheyenne decided that she would change her allegiance from her first best human friend to make an American cross-country trip to find another best human friend only to be tracked down by a microchip! Such are the marvels of science. At 2,800 miles, that does appear to have been quite a trip," he added, "and, while it's not as far as my 4,000 mile trip across "the Pond" it is a substantial solo trip indeed. I am impressed!" "Have you ever thought of making such a lengthy solitary trip yourself?" enquired Mr. B. (hope blooming afresh in his black heart). "No, thank you, replied Fredcat, with a studied calmness, "I have found my true calling to be to remain near my best human friend, Cathie, and I will do everything in my power to see that she has my full support in every single thing that that wonderful human does." Such unqualified praise! "In the meantime," Fredcat continued, casting a frosty eye over Mr. B., "I know that Cathie is planning a surprise laundry run chez Fredcat. It would be a great pity if she were to see what a mess you have made of the bathroom towels while you were wiping that red stuff off that was plastered around your eating part not so long ago ..." Fredcat stopped for effect and was soon pleased to see Mr. B. vanish, at a rate of knots, towards the laundry room. Did the Fredcat household even possess enough detergent to remove the evidence and protect the grumpy one from the wrath of a strawberry-deprived Cathie??? Hmmm ... |
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This is little me 
- I am so smart!
Move on to say thanks to those who helped Mr. B do this stuff
Copyright © 2003-date Fredcat the Famous and Mr.B.
