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

Friday, June 30th 2006 (number 816)

Skirting board fanatic Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat had spent a large part of the day outside under the BBQ, his recent sleeping place of choice. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, watched him as he slept, stirred, changed positions and slept again, dreaming of other felines, his sleep broken only when he rose to take sips of ice cold water from a bowl thoughtfully provided by Mr. B. ("Thoughtful" in this instance meant "reacting after being given stern glances, coupled with nods of the head towards the ice maker by Cathie"; a language that Mr. B., along with millions of male humans well understood).

Fredcat eventually yawned himself awake and trotted inside the living room of his famous residence. He looked up and down and sniffed the skirting board - and sneezed. "This house needs a jolly good clean," he finally said, crossly, "You humans see everything at your eye level, little realising that smaller creatures such as I see things from a perspective much nearer to ground level. The dust at the level of the skirting boards is quite appalling, you know. Something needs to be done about this dust!"

While Fredcat pawsed for breath, Mr. B. spoke up, "I'm sorry to hear you say that." he said, "I think that the requisition forms we have to use to order a housecleaning genie have all expired, more's the pity. Perhaps I'm sorry that we don't have a magic genie to clean up the darkest reaches of the living room. I seem to remember that the last time we did spring cleaning you set to work and polished the floors with your special floor polishing footwear - you were very good at it. You reached all the hard-to-get-at corners! Shall we try that again? I'm sure you'd find even more dust to cough and splutter over. Talking of which, it's almost time for the second dose of your special medicine. I had to drive to a v*t's office far far away to pick those up, so be sure to take them this evening." Mr. B. smiled in triumph at his cunning riposte.

Cathie (as usual) came to the Mighty One's rescue. "Far, far away? That's all relative, I think. It didn't strike me as being far away at all the last time I picked the meds up from the new vet's office. Don't be so pompous. Fredcat is quite right, the skirting boards do need cleaning, there's no arguing with that. Just think, if we had brand new kittens taking their first steps in this house they'd be appalled to see the state of this living room. It's your responsibility - so get to it!" Then, leaving Mr. B. with a full set of cleaning materials she and Fredcat went off to watch the big TV together, and Fredcat hardly sneezed at all.

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Wednesday, June 28th 2006 (number 815)

Weatherful Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat looked up with that expression which everyone in his famous residence knew so well, and sneezed. "That's the tenth time you've sneezed today," cried Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, in total exasperation, "We can't be doing with this, so it's back to the v*t's office for more special medication for you, me lad." Fredcat tried very hard to conceal a new burst of sneezing but failed miserably. It was hopeless and he knew it. The only saving grace was that he'd get to ride in Mr. B.'s car which had just been meticulouly cleaned. If he had to ride in the car then he'd make sure that that he shed at least a few hundred of his famous ginger and white hairs once inside. It was small solace, but what was a cat (albeit a famous one) to do?

"It's your own fault," said Mr. B., as he surveyed the so-called Mighty One, "You can't keep staying out under the BBQ when it's raining cats and d*gs, errrr, teeming down, and not expect to get wet and feel cold and miserable. If you'd only come into the warm Fredcat residence when you were called then I'm sure all would be well with you." He sounded very smug, totally forgetting the numerous colds he'd suffered over the years, none of which had remotely been connected with lying outside underneath a BBQ when it was raining.

"I came indoors as quickly as I could," complained Fredcat, "But once one's under the BBQ with the back door closed and it starts to rain, what is one to do? I'm no longer up to a quick dash all round the Fredcat residence to come in by my very own entrance, I'd be soaked to the skin before I got half way to that cat door. I'm not that quick a runner anymore, you know. I'm sure you've slowed down over the years - so stop being so critical!" Fredcat was clearly in a bad mood as well as being cold.

"Do I really have to go to the v*t's office with you?" said Fredcat, turning to Cathie, his large orange eyes pleading as he enjoyed the towelling down service that the Grumpy One was giving him. "Couldn't I just stay at home and sit by the fire for a change whilst you go and buy whatever medicine is needed? Can't you just explain my symptoms and get the medicine like always? I've only a limited amount of fun time and I don't want to waste it going on unnecessary visits to the vet's office." He gazed at Cathie, pleadingly, but she remained steadfast. This was hopeless, thought Fredcat as he sneezed one more time and hobbled over to the fire to lay down. Sometimes life was so unfair.

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Monday, June 26th 2006 (number 814)

Contemplative Fredcat! Large image

"Did you know that last Friday, June 23rd, was supposed to have been the happiest day of the year?" asked Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "I'm not sure if I was simply happy or extremely happy that day," she added, "Talking to an old friend can make one pleased; even having a nice lie-in from work can make me very happy indeed." She smiled; she was content. Fredcat was less happy. He gazed out of the window at the rain coming down. It didn't seem right that Cathie was happy when all he wanted to do was sit outside in the warm North Carolina sunshine. Soon, however, a lull in the rain gave him the chance to stretch his legs and he was outside in a shot (limping outside in a becoming, stately fashion, in truth).

His sojourn in the garden didn't last long as the rain started again in earnest. Surprisingly, the rain was warm and Fredcat quickly scurried under the large BBQ placed strategically outside the back door. Over the last few weeks he'd come to regard this area as his private external residence. The BBQ itself was protected by a large black plastic cover whose skirt finished a foot or so from the ground. Under said cover Fredcat could hide and sleep away the hours, yet at the same time watch from a vantage point the sloping ground below. It was quite the perfect "tree-house" for a feline, in fact.

But soon even Fredcat tired of the rain since, despite initially having a large area under the BBQ in which to stay warm and dry, the rain was beginning to seep sideways. The kindly Mr. B. had earlier placed several large sheets of Sunday newspapers under the BBQ, as Fredcat seemed to prefer lying on paper than on hard wooden boards, but the newspaper was now acting as blotting paper and its dry area was becoming progressively smaller. Finally, Fredcat stood up and considered how best to make it back into the house without having to grow gills.

"Aren't you going to let him in?" demanded Cathie, crossly, "He can't stay out there in this weather." So Mr. B. set to and attempted to coax the Mighty One inside the Fredcat residence proper. But even though the distance between the BBQ and the back door was but ten feet, for Fredcat the journey was the equivalent of a human running into a store from outside the car when a storm was lashing down and he was in no hurry to attempt to break the world record for dodging raindrops.

The Famous One finally took a deep breath, dashed towards the back door, and burst into the kitchen. Mr. B. quickly grabbed a towel and gave him a good brisk rub down - for which he, naturally, received no thanks. Once dry, Cathie scooped Fredcat up and told him that as the rain was warm his discomfort would soon pass. Meantime she recommended a taste of the piece of salmon she'd saved from her last meal. "This is more like it," thought Fredcat, and settled down for a well earned bite to eat.

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Friday, June 23rd 2006 (number 813)

Royalty Fredcat! Large image

"It's officially summer!" announced Fredcat, "It was the summer solstice a day or so ago and I intend to take full advantage of the fine weather that's arrived to indulge in plenty of sleeping outdoors." He pawsed, and added, "Although if I recall last summer I need to keep in the shade as much as possible to avoid becoming dehydrated." He looked across at Mr. B. "It would be nice of course if someone could maintain a steady supply of iced cold water in a bowl near to my favourite resting place (or even places) so that I don't overheat." His train of thought was interrupted by the arrival home of his best human friend, Cathie, from a trip in her car. "I've lost my crown," she moaned, "I've had it for ages and now it's gone." She looked quite dejected.

"Crown! You had a crown?" Fredcat almost bellowed. "And now you've lost it? All these years together - and you've never even mentioned to me the fact that you were Royalty. What type of crown is it? You can't be the Queen of England because she's still on the throne, and I'm unaware that the President of the US wants a titular head over here to compete with him. Or are you a Countess or a Princess or what?" He looked at Cathie. "Hmmm ..." he considered his words, I think you're little too advanced in anno domini to be a "young" princess."

Before Cathie could formulate a rebuttal, he went on, "Hey! If you're Royalty then I must be Royalty, as well! So spill the beans - what's my title, then? Prince Fredcat the Famous? His Royal Highness King Frederick the Famous of wherever? That does sound good! It also means that I, too, get to wear a crown. And I need to arrange my Royal world tour to meet and greet other heads of state. Come on, some on, there's lots to do to set this up, please set to and start organising."

Fredcat continued in this vein for quite a while until Cathie finally interrupted him and he, somewhat unwillingly, ground to a halt. When she managed to get a word in she said, with a bit of a lisp, "I've lost a crown from my teeth, Fredcat. You know how difficult it is for me to go to the dentist, it's one of those places I do my best to avoid going to if at all possible, and now I have to go back there. Woe is me, my furry feline friend."

"So, Fredcat, no Royal world tour for you, then," said Mr. B., "But that's OK, if you're not going to be travelling overseas you won't need to have any vaccinations or immunizations that go with travelling. You can simply stay at home and commiserate with Cathie because this is a big upset for her. You remember how awful it was for you, when you had to have your teeth seen to?"

Fredcat sighed, his visions of international travel on Airforce One (or some other posh plane), and of being served smoked salmon (or even fresh tuna) evaporating as reality kicked in. At least there might be a bit of salmon at home if I butter up Mr. B., he thought hopefully, and he walked downstairs, doing his best to accentuate his arthritic hobbling to gain sympathy. Cunning feline!

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Wednesday, June 21st 2006 (number 812)

Guestbookian Fredcat! Large image

Mr. B. was spending all his waking hours either playing or watching games on the Fredcat PC or was sat in front of the big TV watching World Cup football, and Fredcat was exasperated. "This is all too much," he finally said, ginger and white fur flying all over the place as he jumped up and down in a fit of pique. "Look here," he continued, "I need to keep up appearances, you know. I've received a load of nice messages from my enormous fan base, and that's great. But someone, SOMEONE, is falling down on their allotted job of typing and sending off my dictated responses for me. And said messages still have to loaded into my famous Guestbook - and all you're doing is sitting around, watching the footie, and acting like a couch potato." Fredcat was decidedly peeved.

"Actually that's all done and done, you complaining feline, you. It wasn't what you'd call a difficult IT project, really," responded Mr. B. not taking his eyes off the screen. It didn't seem to matter whether it was the big screen or the small screen, his eyes had that glazed look that lots of human females know so well. "I did it all this morning while you were sleeping." Mr. B. even smiled when he said this. "I got up really early and did some keep fit exercises and then sorted out your replies (well, the majority of them, I'll finish the rest tonight)." Fredcat looked at his Guestbook and then at his fredcatthefamous emails and had to admit that Mr. B. had indeed been very industrious. One-nil to the Grumpy One!

"By the way," said Mr. B., getting fully into the swing of speechmaking, "Some of your feline and human friends have changed their email addresses - like you did some time ago - the emails you sent them bounced back, and they didn't receive your announcement sent earlier this month. I expect they'll realise the problem sooner or later." He hummed a little tune softly to himself just to wind up and irritate Fredcat.

"Now stop that bickering, the both of you," said Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, "I happen to know that Mr. B. has been very diligent these last few days, doling out tuna to Fredcat. On Father's Day wasn't it you, Fredcat, who stuck his blackened paws all over a Father's Day card for Mr. B.? And there was a huge bunch of chocolate bars for Mr. B. from someone. One of your kindly readers, namely Susan L., suggested that Fredcat treat Mr. B. as a kind of surrogate father and give Mr. B. a chuck-a-chin back!"

At this both Fredcat and Mr. B. looked at each other, aghast, and immediately stopped talking and busied themselves with other matters in various parts of the house. "Such a pity," thought Cathie, "that was sooooo close ..."

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Monday, June 19th 2006 (number 811)

Fathering Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, glanced over at the Mighty One and said, "Did you realise that Sunday is Father's Day?" Fredcat didn't reply and continued to look out of the front door which had been left conveniently open for that very purpose. Cathie waited expectantly until her feline shifted his position and settled down again. Suddenly he spoke. "As a matter of fact I do," he said, wriggling a little while trying to both rest his head on the raised door sill while keeping his eyes fixed on the driveway below. "I know all about it and I'm a bit depressed, to be honest. As you know full well, I'm not a dad myself and it's at times like these that I wish everyone wasn't so keen on all this fuss and nonsense and general celebrating. I've no idea where my own father is and I don't have any kittens of my own so I'm left a bit high and dry on that issue." He continued to stare outside in a most melancholy fashion.

"There are loads of humans and felines in your position, Fredcat, so don't feel that you're alone," soothed Cathie, "There's no reason at all why we can't celebrate Father's Day even though your male lineage is a bit bare. I'll get Mr. B to cook you some of that fresh cod we bought from the fishmongers and we'll dish it up to you on your favourite plate while I sing you a Happy Father's Day song - OK?"

Now that was a plan that had Fredcat's full approval. Any meal that didn't rely on v*t food was to be welcomed and he well remembered the last time cod had been on the menu. "You mean that Mr. B. has stopped watching World Cup football and is buckling down to cooking proper meals again?" he asked, wickedly, "I must admit that watching one game on the big TV was exciting but to sit through 64 of them is exhausting - only a true fanatic would do that." Cathie and Fredcat immediately thought of Mr. B. and agreed that he was fully in line for a Total Football Fanatic of the Year badge. "I really think he knows more about football than about cats," said Fredcat, whilst Cathie looked at him wryly.

"I suppose that d*gs have fathers as well, " said Fredcat, slyly, "though I sometimes have to wonder, considering the idiotic things they get up to. I watched a video of a d*g called Jolly, being carried down an escalator, and he moves his front paws as if he were actually walking! How senseless is that? When Mr. B carries me up and down the stairs of the Fredcat residence I keep perfectly still, and keep an eye on the world outside."

"I think it's very unwise to be unkind to d*gs," said Mr. B. "It's all to easy to make fun of them. Now Cathie is right, we'll all have a good meal tonight to celebrate fathers and their children - and that includes you, Fredcat!" and he (surprisingly) leant down and gave the Mighty One a huge chuck-a-chin. Wow!

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Friday, June 16th 2006 (number 810)

Football fanatic Fredcat! Large image

"GOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!" screamed Fredcat. He leapt up from Mr. B.'s lap as they watched the World Cup on the big TV. He climbed upon the Grumpy One's shoulders, stood on his head and hopped up and down, then jumped down onto the arms of the easy chair and danced around them from right to left and back again, all the while shouting "GOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!" at the top of his voice. Mr. B. was embarrassed. He'd turned the TV volume down so as not to disturb Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, who was upstairs in the study doing some personal typing. She thought he was trying out a new menu item for the evening's meal and Mr. B. hadn't even started on it yet.

"Shush! Be quiet, you! We don't want to disturb Cathie, she's busy," warned Mr. B., hoping that her typing would take her at least another hour to complete - certainly until the end of the game, anyway. Fredcat finally became breathless from all that shouting and he slumped to the floor, lying flat on his back, all four paws reaching out to the corners in the room, adopting the pose some soccer players displayed when they'd scored an important goal.

"I'm simply doing what all football supporters do at the match," replied the Famous One, a little sourly, "They shout and scream when a goal's been scored - and even throw a bottle or two around!" He looked around for a bottle to throw but Mr. B. hastily placed all potential missiles out of reach. Fredcat got to his feet in one smooth athletic movement - if one discounted his slight arthritic limp - and said nonchalantly, "I'd be an instant star in soccer, you know. After all, I have four feet, not two, so I could dribble with two of them and run at speed with the other two. Cats are amongst the fleetest of all creatures, after all. And with my vast superior intelligence I'd be a footballing superstar. I'd probably be like Wayne Rooney of the England team - but without the metatarsal troubles."

"With my famous ginger and white fur giving me a streamlined shape nobody could touch me on the field of play, I'd be great heading the the ball because I can jump so much higher, relatively, than any human. I can't decide between offering my services to the relatively unknown US team, since they've a desperate need to improve on their performance, or trying out for the England team, because they're on a bit of a winning streak - and I've always been a winner, you know."

He stopped, breathless again, and looked hopefully at Mr. B. "Does this evening meal include steak?" he asked, and was pleased to see the Grumpy One nod, finally get to his feet and head towards the kitchen. Mr. B. sighed, the only way to shush Fredcat was to get him some fresh nosh immediately and the Grumpy One knew that he had to do this quickly before Cathie came downstairs to investigate the noise. And Mr. B. did so want to watch the football. Life was hard, sometimes ...

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Wednesday, June 14th 2006 (number 809)

Astonished Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat was content. He looked over the shoulder of his best human friend, Cathie, as she sat in front of the Fredcat PC and he purred. Now this was more like it. "I know some humans may think I'm vain, but I'm worth it. Three years is three years, after all!" he said, brushing his longest whisker with his left paw. Cathie glanced at Fredcat and asked him not to breathe down her neck as she was trying to do a spot of personal typing. In reply Fredcat leapt onto the desk and marched up and down a few times, completely blocking the view. He finally sat on the keyboard and stared fixedly at Cathie, thereby garnering her full and unreserved attention.

"It's so nice to be wanted," he said, happily, "My life is so wonderful especially now that I've even persuaded Mr. B. to open a tin of tuna this morning before you got up. Now that I've stopped bugging him in the mornings, he's being more generous with the best food in the house for my breakfast." He took a vague wipe at another whisker as a drop of tuna threatened to escape onto the desk top.

"Now listen here, m'boy," said Cathie, wiping yet another morsel of tuna from the Fredcat face, "I'm off out soon to have my annual eyesight test so you'll have to amuse yourself for a while, OK?. It's really necessary for humans to have regular vision check-ups and my ophthalmic optician is always happy to remind me to drop by his office. Good eyesight is very important to humans - and while I suppose it's important to felines, too, I know you're more concerned with changes in movement rather than still pictures. That's a pity, as you take a very fine photograph, my friend." She chucked him under the chin and eased him to one side, away and off the keyboard.

"I've never seen a feline with spectacles," mewsed Fredcat, "I'm just glad you place my grub in the same place each day, so I don't have to search for it. I know Mr. B. brings you breakfast in bed from time to time ..." (and here Cathie had the decency to blush) "... which is surprising for such a grumpy human. I must admit, though, I do like to drink the last part of his cornflakes and milk. He holds the bowl out for me and taps the side with his spoon to direct me. That's quite nice of him, really, and I play up to him by ignoring it on a random basis. It keeps him on his toes, you know."

He sat down and thought for a while. "When you return from having your sight tested, Cathie, I'd love you to help me, please. I had so many, many congratulatory wishes from lots of my close personal friends - if I dictate my replies will you type them up for me? Please? Please?" He smiled when Cathie said she would and shortly thereafter he hopped dowm from the desk and went in search of one of his round beds for a bit of a sleep. Celebrating third anniversaries took it out of a chap, you know.

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Monday, June 12th 2006 (number 808)

Braggart Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat smiled happily. "Do you realise that today marks the triennium of my famous diary?" he asked. Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, looked up from her typing and murmured vaguely but she was ignored by the Mighty One. "Eight hundred and eight entries in a three year period," he boasted, "and all down to moi." "Is that so?" asked Cathie, sarcastically, "Now I know why my fingers are worn down to the bone." She looked at her hands and Mr. B. looked at his - after all, he'd also had to do some of the typing.

Fredcat continued to ignore them both. "And look here - I'm everywhere! Just click on any of these important search engines, type in my name, either Fredcat the Famous or just Fredcat (for Altavista) and, lo and behold, there I am!" He pranced around a bit to show off his athletic skill which was marred only by a slight imperfection due to what his v*t had pronounced to be a slight touch of arthritis. "I can still do stuff," he boasted, "Just like that Jack feline who chased that bear up a tree. Twice!! You can just about see him, there at the foot of the tree! I'm so proud to be a kin of his."

Mr. B. soon became fed up with this display of self importance and, ignoring Fredcat, started to play a new game with rather vague rules. But Fredcat has never needed people to be listening to him, and he continued apace. "I've received hundreds of emails over the years, you know," he continued, "Some very nice ones indeed, giving me lots of praise. Like most creatures on earth, I react very well to carrots, as opposed to sticks. Although I'm not particularly fond of carrots at all, if you know what I mean." For a moment the thought of food seemed to distract him but he coughed once or twice and carried on.

"I really have to say a huge thank you to all those kind best human friends who have laboured at their feline's PCs to send me interesting items of news. Somehow I've managed to reply to all of them and placed many of their messages in my Guestbook, and have also posted their photographs in my online album, complete with little comments from me," he said.

He pawsed. "And of course there are my famous "tails", we mustn't forget those! I'm in the middle of composing my latest "tail", so my friends will need to keep a sharp eye out for when it's released. A number of my feline friends will doubtless feature in it, as is my wont." He looked around again at the humans but his bragging had tired them both out. Mr. B. had his head on the keyboard of the Fredcat PC and was fast asleep and Cathie had crept downstairs to make a cup of tea to revive her. Perhaps tomorrow she'd start to teach Fredcat some manners but tonight she was just happy that her best feline friend was still only five years old at heart and she hoped to have his famous feline company for a long time to come. HAPPY 3RD ANNIVERSARY, FREDCAT!

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Friday, June 9th 2006 (number 807)

Sedated Fredcat? Large image

Fredcat dug his heels deep into the carpet and clung on tightly. He stared grimly at his best human friend, Cathie, and said through gritted teeth (the ones he had left, that is) "I'm not going to see the v*t. I'm not going to have my teeth examined. No way. Period. End. That's it. Final decision, You can stop it right now and give it a rest!!!" Mr. B. sighed and said disarmingly, "But it's for your own good, Fredcat. I'm sure that the v*t will treat you kindly, you won't be put to sleep for too long and when you wake up you'll find you can eat more easily - and you'll be a bit more cheerful as well."

"No, sir'" said Fredcat firmly. "I've had my share of dentists and v*ts. Last time I went to see a v*t I wasn't even ill and yet we went all the same. Pretending I had arthritis! as if I had. I'm not some dozy old English cricketer who's past it, like someone I know." He chunnered on a bit, as was his wont, as he hobbled around the room.

Mr. B. played his trump card. "Cathie is going to the dentist tomorrow and she's going to be sedated just like you. It's quite wonderful, you go there and you don't feel a thing and you even get to sleep for a long time afterwards and then have everyone wait on you until you're back in the land of the living again."

"What!" exploded Cathie! I'm not doing that, you can put that thought right out of your head. I never go to the dentist unless I'm crawling about on all fours in pain," but having said that, she suddenly clutched her head and pretended that it was the cold ice cream she'd eaten that had caused the agonising stab. Canny Mr. B. saw through it and smiled grimly himself at the sideshow.

"Come! Come!" he said, "We must show Fredcat that it's OK to visit medical folk, you'll be much better afterwards. The dentist will even clean your teeth and make them really white with some shiny new treatment that's on the market. It's not just rubbing your teeth with table salt, you know, it's much more sophisticated than that." Cathie was not convinced and neither was her famous feline friend. Lucky cat! At least until tomorrow.

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Wednesday, June 7th 2006 (number 806)

Changing Fredcat's name? No fear! Large image

Fredcat was watching the big TV with his best human friend, Cathie. The commentator was explaining the latest somewhat bizarre naming of a child born to a celebrity and both Cathie and Fredcat cringed as the child was shown, bawling, on the screen. "It seems to me that naming one's child has become a bit of a game," remarked Fredcat, "With the winner being the celebrity coming up with the weirdest name." Cathie nodded her head in agreement, "The fact is that naming of one's child is still largely in the hands of the parents but most humans are very sensible and don't lumber their offspring with silly monikers." She looked at Fredcat who sat with a puzzled look on his face. "What's up, Doc?" she drawled, at last.

"I've been wondering if I should change my name," said Fredcat, slowly. "Come to think of it, who gave me my Fredcat the Famous name anyway? It wasn't my own mother," he said, scowling a bit. (Actually Fredcat knew very well that it was Cathie who'd come up with the name; he was simply teasing her to get some sympathy.) "Why can't I rename you?" he asked, a little belligerently. "I would call you Maisie-Daisy - that sounds a tad whimsical. Somehow it doesn't seem right that humans can name creatures, but creatures can't name humans."

He pawsed and thought for a while. "I would really like to be called Tarzan!" he said at last, "He's my hero, he fought lions and tigers, but only if they were attacking other creatures. Normally they were docile around him. I suppose I could be a tiger cat. They must be really scary creatures to have around."

"What you need is something to take your mind off names," said Cathie, firmly, "I like your name - and I like my name as well - but I think you spend far too much time in front of the big TV and the Fredcat PC, and that's affecting your famous brain. You need to get out and loosen up that arthritic leg of yours; if you keep sleeping instead of exercising you'll end up a bit tubby, like someone we both know." She grinned and patted Fredcat on his head until he purred.

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Monday, June 5th 2006 (number 805)

Timeless Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat examined the calendar hung high on the wall in the study and remarked that it was already June - the month that he first started the famous Fredcat the Famous diaries three years ago. "With well over 800 diary entries to my name, I must be an icon by now," he purred with satisfaction. "Icon? Icon? I think you're trying to say I can do anything," punned Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, but she was pleased with the Mighty One all the same. "For myself, I'm very pleased that we've been able to add some nice photographs of your feline friends to your weblog; that's because all those best human friends out there have sent us snapshots of their companion felines."

"We've recently added some nice photographs and guestbook entries to your Famous diary, Fredcat," Cathie continued, "As the official photographer for the Fredcat diaries I'm always pleased to receive photographs of your feline friends, and your photographs page is looking particularly spiffy at the moment. Naturally, our amateur efforts aren't in the same class as professional photographers' work, but they're very good, all the same.

She turned to Mr. B. and asked him if the weather was getting too hot for him. "Now that it's June and the hurricane season has started we're at the risk of severe weather from time to time. Living where we are in North Carolina we're insulated from the tropical storms and the like which affect some southern US states but the weather can get quite sweltering at times." If he heard this hint Mr. B. made no reply as he was busy playing games on the Fredcat PC.

Fredcat came to Cathie's rescue, "I think what Cathie is saying is that we both would prefer the air conditioning to be turned on, if you please; I love warm weather - but I also like a cool breeze blowing gently over me to help me keep cool as well! I hope that that doesn't sound Irish, but that's how I like it! That's one of the reasons I like to sit at an open door, you know."

"You fussy, fussy people," snorted Mr. B., but he turned up the air conditioning all the same. "There are other ways to keep cool. For myself, one of the nicest ways is to eat a tub of ice cream, but we're out of it at the moment, so I'll just pander to your fussy tastes instead." And soon Cathie and Fredcat sighed with relief as the air conditioning began to work its magic. Happiness reigned once more in the Fredcat household!

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Friday, June 2nd 2006 (number 804)

Huggable Fredcat! Large image

Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, was home for the weekend and Fredcat was determined to take full advantage of her presence to obtain huge bucketsful of cuddly attention. He was normally a cat that likes to walk alone (as he'd been taught by his mentor Forby) but Fredcat had always been a bit of a romantic feline and he now preferred the company of Cathie above all else. "I suppose you do realise that this Sunday is Hug your Cat Day?" he remarked, as he snuggled up close to Cathie. Cathie was paying less attention to Fredcat's words and more attention to how to shift him, because he was lying sprawled on her desk, virtually covering her keyboard with his famous ginger and white fur, and definitely blocking her view of the screen.

"It seems to me that these special days happen whenever some unknown person decides to have one," remarked Mr. B. bitterly. "Some websites reckon that this particular hugging day was "celebrated" (if that's the word) some days ago. I just think you make these special days up as you go along. Anyway," he muttered, sotto voce, "nobody ever has a "Hug Your Mr. B. Day" at all."

"Well, well, well - someone's rattled Mr. B.'s cage!" said Cathie, "I also suspect that what he needs is something to brighten up his life a bit. Why don't we bake some nice fairy cakes with your famous moniker on them to show our appreciation for all the hard work he does about the Fredcat residence?" Fredcat's head quite spun at the prospect of fairy cakes with his Famous image on them but he quickly turned to musing on how the Grumpy One liked to lounge about the place in Cathie's absence.

"Look, all I want is to receive some nice hugs this weekend," pleaded Fredcat. "I don't want to spent it pampering Mr. B. There are lots of felines who get hugged and adored - so why not me?" This was an irrefutable argument and Cathie said that she would attempt to give Fredcat some attention later on but first she had to complete the work she was doing on the Fredcat PC.

"But do hurry up," remonstrated Fredcat, "I fancy a nice piece of fish - some salmon, or even a couple of sardines, would do nicely. I don't want to go chasing all over for it either, just place it neatly on my food bowl and I will be content." And having dictated his wishes he wandered off, confident in the knowledge that the weekend was going to be great. Cocky cat!

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