Fredcat decided to sally forth to the Thanksgiving sales today. He realised that he had to practice acting quite out of character. To begin with, he practiced his mad rush down the hallway, barging into packing cases and whizzing round the legs of humans who happened to be in the way. All this was followed by a spontaneous leap onto something (anything!) of seeming value. Thanksgiving sales - Buy! Buy! Buy! Large image Fredcat has already realised that items of real value are ephemeral. This is missing the point of sales, however, as the game is to beat one's fellow shopper to the punch, be there first and grab the seeming prize. He persuaded the "butler" to open the front door, and then started practicing leaping several feet up and down the nearest oak tree (not once, not twice, but thrice!) until he was fully satisfied that he had completely mastered that particular skill. Luckily, he had sharp claws to make this possible - I pity any human getting in his way in the actual sales. In the Florida sales, one poor unfortunate (although first in line when the doors opened) was literally trampled underfoot and ignored by other bargain hunters. Fredcat is determined that nothing like that will happen to him. He has just opened up a brand new credit card which he intends to "max out" at the earliest opportunity. Clearly the sales shopping bug has really taken hold. Once he had finsihed practising, he came inside to rest before setting off for the mall. He noticed that it was rather warm in the living room as the fire had been lit, and the effect was to make even the most energetic cat drowsy. Before he knew it, he had dropped off to sleep. All that thinking, planning and exercising had taken their toll, and his fur coat opened up to soak up the warmth of the fire. Mr. B. suspected that Frecat was a hopeless shopper-to-be, especially if he fell asleep at the first opportunity. And he was right! Another time perhaps ....
Thursday and Friday were among the best days ever for Fredcat! To begin with, Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, didn't have to go to work and was therefore able to cosset Fredcat to within an inch of his life all the time. Then there were all those meaty left-overs from Thanksgiving dinner, so lovingly provided by one of his other good friends, Jane. Good grub indeed! Thanksgiving satisfaction Large image Fredcat was also delighted to receive a recent photograph of three of his English pals. They are seen here, neatly snuggled up together to keep out the cold weather. Fredcat wondered how they would all fit into his own cozy little bed and thought not. After all, he decided, charity begins at home - he likes his own queen size bed to move around in, thank you very much, and no sharing!! None of this:- "and the little one said, roll over," nonsense, if you please! Thanksgiving is unlike Christmas celebrations, in that folk say, "Happy Thanksgiving" to each other, and there are, apparently, no gifts exchanged. There are Thanksgiving cards, with all sorts of addressees, like Mom, Dad, and other loved ones, neatly printed on them. Thanksgiving also seems to mark the beginning of the period when Chistmas decorations are set out. This is true even though it is still November! Gone are the Hallowee'n and other autumnal figures from front doorways, to be replaced by Christmas decorations and Santa Claus figures. It is very chilly outside with temperatures plumetting so Fredcat has decided to stay inside for a while. His thoughts turn to his stomach, "Now where is that second helping of turkey?," he mutters. "I will consider Christmas another time".
Fredcat's VP of Marketing had been busy again. She is an avid reader of the Top Five website and, as a result of a chat with the Top Five people, Fredcat's site was mentioned in one of their daily listings - with magnificent results! The Top Five site is full of quirky humour, and a daily shot of this keeps the Famous one's VP awake at her desk. Try it! Checking activity Large image As you can see if you click on the "Large image" link above (if you peer closely, that is) the number of visitors to Fredcat the Famous' website have undergone a sudden upsurge, due no doubt, to the new Top 5 visitors (welcome, one and all!). Fredcat asked his VP to summarise the numbers for him, but the suspicious lady demurred as there has long been a suspicion in the Fredcat household, that he can only count up to 9. He does this by using his left paw - "Leg, please," said his best human friend - to count the digits on both his right front and back paws (O.K., legs!). There appears to be a disadvantage to cat counting as they are lacking an opposable thumb. The upshot is that Fredcat is continually asking Cathie for updated information on the numbers of visitors to his website (he is so vain!), and is then forced to tortuously convert those numbers to base 9 before he can evaluate the results. Fredcat loves the number 9 - after all, all cats have 9 lives! He knows that marketing people love to add two nines (99 pence or 99 cents) to the price of goods on sale to try and persuade shoppers that their purchases cost less than they actually do. He points out proudly to anyone who will listen (and to those that don't, if truth be told) that he can also use the "casting out of nines" procedure - a lost arithmetical art! - to check out Cathie's arithmetic. I bet you didn't think that the Famous one was an arithmetician, did you! "You know, I think that there will be fewer people reading my diary over the next few days," he muttered. "There is a huge annual holiday starting tomorrow, which we British-born cats, have never appreciated. Visitors might be too busy to read my diary over this period." The holiday to which he refers is, of course, Thanksgiving - and Britain has no equivalent. Families travel to be with their kinfolk at Thanksgiving, and tomorrow is destined to be the busiest time of the year for travel. Fredcat reckons that the Christmas Day and Boxing Day celebrations in the UK would be the closest English equivalents, "though there are many in the USA who celebrate both events equally well!" he said. "And don't forget the Scottish New Year celebrations," added Cathie. The Scots always have a good time at Hogmanay!" All this talk of celebrations is making me hungry," said Frecat. "I see that you have acquired a nice chunky piece of honey baked ham which is languishing in the fridge at the moment. I think that I should celebrate my (apologies, our) marketing success with a slice or two of that." Right again, Fredcat!
Fredcat watched as Cathie, his best human friend, put down the telephone and smiled. She had just been speaking to a representative of another local telephone company who were offering her another "better deal" if she would transfer her business to them. This happens all the time, thought Fredcat and it is all part of the great marketing dance that everyone plays. Telephone changes Large image "Ah, but now the situation is different," said Cathie, "Because, from yesterday, you can move your telephone business from one company to another - and keep your telephone number! I am told that it should not cost "too much". You see, the disadvantages caused by having to tell all your friends and family about your new number when you change 'phones has often prevented people from making that change - it's just been too much of a pain!" "But on the other hand if you change telephone companies, and do have a new telephone number, you need only give this number to friends that you like - and the people you don't want to talk to won't be able to contact you!" suggested Fredcat brightly. "You often complain about all those people who call you offering some new service, wishing you were not on their calling lists." "For some reason it doesn't work like that, but I am too busy to go into it further with you right now," replied Cathie. "I have to fax a message off quickly - and I also have to e-mail a friend." Fredcat thought for a while and then said, "It seems to me that there are far too many ways to communicate, what with faxes, e-mails, landline telephones, cellphones, pagers, instant nessaging systems, PDAs etc. - quite apart from the so-called UPS snailmail. I expect there are more - yes! What about UPS, Federal Express, and all those other carriers!" he continued excitedly. "In any case, I like my system the best," he said, "It is very effective, the end user knows what is required immediately, there is no middleman to pay, the cost is neglible, the benefits are immense it - and gets instant results!" "What system is that?," said Cathie suspiciously. "Simple! I just smile at you, coupling the smile with a playful mew (if your attention is not immediate) and then I head towards the fridge door, or to my cat bowl! I think you get the point ..." Cathie grinned at him. He was right!
The other day, Fredcat and his best human friend, Cathie, were watching Mythbusters, on TV. In this programme two laconic experimenters named Jamie and Adam (who have over thirty year's experience in special effects) turn their skills to assessing, and consequently frequently busting, well known myths. Walk - don't run Large image This time the experimenters were testing the accepted practice of running for shelter from the rain, rather than walking, regardless, through the rain. They had set up a very complicated experiment in a rain tunnel - which they themselves had constructed - so that they could compare the amount of water falling on the unlucky person caught in the shower. They carried out the experiment by alternatively walking and running a measured distance to see how much rain had been absorbed by their outer garments. It was all very scientific, Fredcat thought. The results were astonishing! It was apparently significantly better to walk to one's destination than run, in the sense that one became a lot wetter running rather than walking. Cathie was not entirely convinced. "If I were out in the rain I would hurry to get inside as quickly as possible!" she exclaimed. But Fredcat, being rather blase about the experiment, had a few comments to make. (How unusual, said Mr. B. - "dryly".) "If I were outside and it started to rain, I would imagine that I were dreaming - because I could never believe that I would be so stupid as to get caught in the rain," he boasted. "You, on the other hand, are letting your feelings about being in the rain get the better of you!" "That is because you're not the one who has to go to work or do shopping, even when the weather is bad," muttered Cathie. "Who do you think gets your favourite meats and treats when the rain is lashing down and there is nothing in the larder?" "That is just poor planning," replied Fredcat. "You need to stock up my food in advance, so you don't find yourself in such an unfortunate position". For some reason that Frecat couldn't quite fathom (despite his being both famous and very intelligent) Cathie did not take this advice at all well. In fact, a very frosty atmosphere prevailed in the Fredcat household for quite a while following these comments being uttered. Matters only got worse for Fredcat when he realised that, to his increasing discomfort, he needed to pop outside for a nature break. And yes .... it was raining. Of course. There were several awkward moments before Fredcat bowed to the inevitable (for once not demanding the services of a "butler"), left the house through his cat flaps (cat doors), and scurried around to the shelter of the overhang by the front windows where he was able to ease his discomfort. Honour was later restored when Cathie finally emerged from the house and brought him back inside to the warmth of the kitchen, where Fredcat was swiftly towelled down. Fredcat immediately decided that in a rain shower, it was better to run for cover, despite the advice of the good experimenters. He later crept back to his food bowls to see if Cathie had misplanned his supplies. Good, she hadn't! He decided that he would be more tactful in future.
Fredcat has been following closely the progress of President Bush after his official visit duties had ended. He was delighted to see that the President travelled to Mr. Blair's constituency in Sedgefield where they (and about 130 others) had had a traditional fish and chips pub lunch. Fish and chips, please! Large image Fredcat was so pleased that they went there because mushy peas had been served along with the fish and chips! Fredcat is convinced that the President (whom he regards as a close personal friend) will bring back a large d*ggy bag to give to his best human friend, Cathie. This fare, part of the staple diet of many UK folk, is virtually unknown in the USA. As for formal immigration, Fredcat suspects that the President will not be able to hurry things along too quickly no matter how hard he tries. In two more earth years, Fredcat will be sweet sixteen, (actually well into his nineties in cat years cracked Mr. B.). "Weeel ... in point of fact," said Cathie, "Fredcat has a great deal in common with Peter Pan, and is still a kitten of five tender years." Nonetheless, Fredcat wonders if his citizenship process will ever take place. He is only too aware that a close relative of Cathie has already waited twenty four years to emigrate to the USA and still has another six years to go. "So true," sighed that good lady. "it does seem to take a very long time!". Thinking about fish and chips led Fredcat to thinking about how many creatures he has actually seen in his distinguished life. As it happens, he cannot recall seeing any live fish at all! But he has seen - and clearly remembers - budgerigars .... He thinks back to the time that two colourful budgerigars ("budgies") were brought into his home on Merseyside. They lived in a cage hooked on a stand, high up in the living room. It was his guide and mentor, Forby who taught Fredcat how to unlock the cage door and joined Fredcat in indulging in a wild chase around the room and up the stairs and thence around the rest of the house, with feathers flying everywhere! This escapade was only brought to order when the terrified budgies were recaptured by humans and refastened in their cage. Some excitement, but (unfortunately, from Fredcat's viewpoint) one that was destined not to be repeated. The birds - cage, stand, and all, were removed in very short order to a more suitable home. Fredcat emerged from his animal reverie and trotted back to see of all this thinking about prey had resulted, by some magical process, into a sustainable meal for him. He was a little disappointed to see that only biscuits were left - but they were from a freshly opened packet, so there was some good news. He tucked in and decided that life was not so bad after all.
Fredcat is becoming a little mixed in his loyalties. Athough he has now been in the USA for over three years, and is well on his way to becoming a citizen of that fair land, he still has many ties to his country of birth. It is with great pleasure, therefore, that Fredcat reads that the President of the USA has travelled to the UK to help with Fredcat's naturalisation process. A new age president! Large image But Fredcat then said, "Although I am extremely grateful to President Bush for the personal attention that he is taking regarding my emigration, I feel that I am quite capable of completing all the necessary paperwork. After all, all the forms are available on-line and I can always get one of my human friends to type in the essential data if my paws become too tired. These folks always seem to be using their computers anyway, so that should be easy!" "I think you may have missed the point of this presidential vist," corrected Cathie. "Our two countries have a great deal in common, why they even speak and write the same language (well, sort of!) So it is right and proper that their leaders meet on a formal basis from time to time. Actually, this is usually seen as a great boon to the entourage of both nations because so many staff members (and media experts) on both sides of the Atlantic have to make the trip whenever the President or the Prime Minister make these visits. And that can only be good for morale." Fredcat thought for a while, and then said, "Are you seriously telling me that this visit will deal with other, less important, matters than my status as a potential citizen? I find that dificult to believe." Cathie chucked Fredcat the Famous under the chin, and continued, "Yes, my magnificent little moggie, they have many important issues to consider and have many more fish to fry". At the mention of fish, Fredcat was frankly disappointed. "Fancy the President going abroad to England, the one and only home of decent fish and chips and yet he doesn't invite me along," he mused. At which, he sauntered to his feeding bowl and examined the remains therein of some tuna and proceeded to demolish the lot. "Fish is good for the brain, I understand," he said contentedly. "I hope our leaders eat a lot of fish!"
Fredcat came out with it suddenly, when he posed the question to his best human friend, Cathie. "What happens to all the presents I give you?" Now Cathie had to be tactful, bearing in mind that she had recently been accused of yearning over a night-time visitor cat. "I save them, of course," she replied. Our feline friend continued remorselessly. "Oh! where are they then?" Present location? Large image "Look at matters this way," said Cathie. "If you give a present to someone then the giving is the thing that matters. Once the present has been given it becomes the property of the recipient and, theoretically, the giver has no further claim to it. Of course, it is nice to know the the recipient values the present but you must not think that the giver has a right to have a say in what happens to the gift. The giver might be disappointed if the value put upon the gift by the recipient is not the same as that placed upon it by the giver but that is just tough luck!" "Please do not try to confuse me with all these givers and recipients, if you don't mind," said Fredcat. "You mean that you have thrown most of my gifts away," he continued, guessing that Cathie's convoluted explantion was just a way of hiding an unpalatable truth. "Yup!," said Cathie, with not a hint of shame. "I was pleased that you presented me with many and various gifts, but, left hanging around, they do tend to create their own odour after a while and I cannot abide that." "If you are willing to dispose of my gifts so readily, then it is only fair that I reciprocate," said Fredcat. "Very well then," replied Cathie, surprised at Fredcat's sudden verbosity, "and what does that mean in practical terms?" It appears that Cathie never learns and she fell right into the trap carefully laid out for her by our cunning moggie! "The first present is another nice warm meal of beef, followed by a prawn sndwich and ..." But that is as far as he got. "My immediate present to you (which I am sure you will accept promptly), is an invitation you to exit the house through this very interesting front door, before exploring the outside at your heart's content before executing a smart return in, say, a couple of hours time. Then we will see." Hmmm! Fredcat may be famous but he still has a thing or two to learn, it appears.
Fresh from his latest exploit with the cat nappers, Fredcat remembered the "discussion" he had recently had with his best human friend, Cathie. There had been an explanation (of sorts) about the food and water left on the front door step, but the issue of the bed remained unanswered. Why was it outside and why had it been left outside all night? Feeding the face Large image "Think of it this way," stated Cathie (who, by this time, had had time to compose herself), "Imagine that you were the cat who had somehow found itself alone, cold and hungry, and outside, in the dead of night. What would you wish for most of all - after food and water, of course?" Fredcat was not obtuse and he could see the logic of Cathie's remarks and the direction it was taking. He could not bear, however, for Cathie to gain the upper hand (the high moral ground, as it were) in this argument. "Someone to scratch my back, and run their long nails through my gorgeous ginger fur, and tell me how wonderful I am, which is my right, of course," he replied, without a flciker of remorse. "And then to hold me, and give me a nice spoonful of fresh yoghurt, holding the spoon just so that I can lick it clean without spilling more than a drop or two. After all those dry biscuits, even though they were washed down with icy cold water, the thought of some smooth, creamy, delicious yoghurt would go down a treat - or perhaps some slippery prawns," he added, as an afterthought. "The correct answer is a bed for the night," murmured Cathie menacingly, "and that is what was offered. Actually, I don't think your visitor took up the offer so your bed is quite safe - and it has been replaced in its usual spot if you want to test it for yourself." "As it happened, neither the visitor cat nor the black cat had reappeared since that evening, now some two nights ago. We did check up with a possible owner, but the only other local cat that might have fitted the bill was a different shade of feline altogether," continued Cathie. "But why have you put the outside house light on and brushed the front steps of leaves?," said our magnicent moggie. "Your hopes and intentions couln't be more obvious if you tried!" "Shall we go inside," said Cathie, "I might just be able to rustle up something nice for lunch." At this, out famous friend forgot his fleeting visitor and leapt quickly towards the dining area. First things first, it seems, and someone's stomach was rumbling a bit.
Today Fredcat, up early as usual, was surprised to find half a bowlful of his best cat biscuits (the other half having been eaten) sitting on the front door step. Next to it was a bowl of water and, horror of horrors, next to those was his brand new bed, last seen in the living room only a few hours ago. "What is this all about!" he demanded to know. Night cat visitor Large image There was a short embarrassed silence before Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, replied. "Well, it was like this," she started. "We saw a pale ginger cat sitting patiently by the side of the road late at night, just before going to bed. In the darkness, this cat looked very like you, Fredcat, dear, so much so that we thought it was you! We naturally had to check on it in case it was you ..... And it was getting cold outside and the poor thing was out there in the cold ... And it might have been hurt!" "And was it hurt?" demanded Fredcat. "Not a scratch anywhere," replied Cathie, "but it was very hungry and cold, although it did appear to be well nourished and had been very well cared for. It had sharp front claws - so was clearly an indoor/outdoor cat, and it was extremely friendly. We assumed that if we walked away slowly it would trot back to its real owners and that would be that." "But ... the cat was very frisky and insisted on rubbing against our legs and it followed us back up the hill until we reached our front door! We could not tell you about it because, as usual, you were fast asleep, and in any case we were not entirely sure how you would react." "You are right about the last part," said Frecat, "I have lived contentedly for some time as a "one and only" cat, and I am not sure that I want to share my life with another cat, no matter how delightful it may be. You realise, of course, that I am a fighting ginger cat (although not necessarily in the very first flush of youth, sniped Mr. B.), so I am more than a bit concerned about this." "The least we could do," continued Cathie, "was to offer it some food - which it munched quite speedily. It didn't eat all the biscuits, Fredcat, don't worry!" "Doubtless the cat was keeping to the maxim of eating "only an elegant sufficiency", and yet leaving space for pudding," added Mr. B. under his breath. "Did this cat come into the house?" "Um, yes, but only for a few steps, and then he went outside again." Cathie was clearly unhappy about being questioned so closely. Her unspoken pleadings to offer a home to the new ginger cat were being met by a stony silence from the other members of her household. Note that Cathie's reaction was quite normal - as any true ailurophile would testify. Cathie then went on to say that whilst the ginger cat was eating biscuits, a black feline streak shot across the garden as yet another cat scampered off in the darkess. "Two new cats!," exploded Fredcat. "I want to hear more about this later, but right now I am going to finish my breakfast," and he went back inside. Oh dear, trouble is brewing ...
Yesterday, Fredcat was quite puzzled at the antics of some of his human friends. To start with, they did not appear to want to rise at the usual time in the morning; it took a great deal of gentle prodding, mewing, licking of ears, sneezing and gentle face shoving to get even a glimmer of response from the nominated human scapegoat for breakfast production. Sneezing cat Large image But Fredcat persevered, and eventually order was restored in the feeding area in the kitchen. Following the birthday celebrations of the day before, which kept Fredcat awake for much of the late evening, he noted that the rest of the kitchen area had been left in a bit of a mess. That did not bother our mobile moggie who had leapt down the stairs for his morning munchies. Another change occurred, once his breakfast had been served - Fredcat noted that the nominated human scapegoat for breakfast production had crept back upstairs to bed again. Why was that he wondered, the day was promising to be a fine one, and it was only 5.50 a.m. Whatever was the matter with these humans? Looking at the weather forecast for tomorrow though, Fredcat noted that the today's wonderfully sunny day, with temperatures reaching 79F, was going to be replaced by a night-time temperature of only 28F. Fredcat worked out that that meant a drop of over 50 degrees F in less than 48 hours. Nothing like that ever happened in England where Fredcat had lived for so many years. It was a good job he had a thick coat and helpful early morning humans to keep the inner cat warmed! He sneezed again, repeatedly. His best human friend, Cathie, counted thirty three sneezes in a row, until the little Fredcat body stopped shaking. Would this mean a visit to the v*t? Frecat hastened to reassure her. " It must have been the anti-flea drops you insisted upon giving me a couple of days ago", he said, and sloped off to get some sleep. Poor thing.
Today is the birthday of one of Fredcat's human friends. Fredcat wanted to give a present but found it quite difficult to choose one that would be just right. He sought help from his best human friend, Cathie. Her suggestions were helpful (to a degree) but tended to be a little impractical for a simple moggie. Birthday friend Large image Why not a nice box of chocolates?, Cathie suggested to him. Of course, this suggestion had a deal of self interest in it as Cathie was more than partial to a bar of English chocolate or Swiss chocolate, or .... chocolate. Fredcat wasn't sure if he could afford to buy those, and he would not be able to partake of any himself, if offered some, he pointed out (not unreasonably). A bottle of wine, even champagne, was the next suggestion. "I can't drink that stuff," wailed Fredcat, "the bubbles get up my nose". "In fact," continued Cathie, "I have been told on the best authority that a little red wine is excellent for one's health. And you could join in with a toast of iced water!", said Cathie, helpfully. But, alas, this attracted only a glare from our magnificant moggie. "I have a much better idea." said Fredcat, brightly. I can give a present that will show just how much I care. At that, the verifiably vainglorious one shot off for a couple of hours and returned in the middle of the night with his gift. It was not gift wrapped but, all told, one has to agree that a squirming mouse in the middle of a bedroom floor in the middle of the night is not easily restrained to facilitate a successful gift-wrapping scenario, no? Fredcat was so pleased with his gift that he thought it right to propose that an additional morsel of tuna be dished out, despite it being near midnight. You cannot blame a cat for trying, even if he is "very trying," can you?
Fredcat had noticed for some time that the back garden (yard) was an absolute mess. Little trees were sprouting everywhere. An area out back had about two to three hundred little fir trees happily competing for space in an area the size of a postage stamp (well, actually, a rather large postage stamp, he corrected himself.) Mulching cat Large image This area, being rough and ready and well protected from prying eyes, had its uses when Fredcat had delicate needs (which we will not go into). It also afforded a suitable vantage point from which to spot young birds learning to fly. Fredcat always had fond hopes of assisting these creatures in their aerial enterprises, although his hopes usually came to nought. Apart from fir trees, there were a number of oak and maple trees and also a sigificant number of brambles and other shrubs whose names were a mystery to Fredcat. "They have to go!" declared Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, and go they did, eventually. Fortunately there remains an even larger unkempt area where Fredcat can secrete himself instead, although it is deeper within the forest.
Eventually the area was cleared, the mulch lorry was called and delivered a large pile of seemingly useless chopped-up wood. Fredcat watched as this was spread over the area to make it look neat and tidy. The mulch mound I think I would have preferred to have had the trees remain instead of that mulch; we seem to have quite a lot of that already around the garden, he thought. Finally, when all the mulching was spread the humans made towards the door for their evening meal. Goodness, thought Fredcat, what am I doing here thinking about mulch when I know there are some special shrimps for tea? And off he sped ahead, just in time to take his allotted spot in front of his bowl.
When Fredcat went out for his usual evening stroll, he noticed that although the evening sky was otherwise clear and bright the moon had unaccountably dimmed. He looked more closely and saw that the moon had darkened - because of a lunar eclipse! Apparently these happen quite frequently, but this evening's eclipse was easy to see in North Carolina. Lunar eclipse evening Large image Around 9pm, the moon looked a dull redish colour, with a dark patch in the middle and a little crescent of white neatly arranged at the bottom, looking as if it was holding up the rest of the moon. Fredcat wondered why the white crescent was at the bottom when almost all the characterizations he had ever seen had shown it with the crescent at the side. He laughed to himself thinking of the times he been show pictures of the moon with a little boy, sitting on its edge, relaxing and holding a fishing rod. After walking around the shrubbery and chasing a few non-existant mice, Fredcat noticed that the night light had improved once more. Craning his head upwards (in the manner he uses when he gets close to his human friends and pleads for an extra helping of best beef), he noticed that the moon had become larger. This clearly was an optical illusion as the white crescent had simply increased in size until almost all of the moon was now back to its normal fullness. Fredcat remembered when there was an excellent eclipse of the sun about four years or so ago. Then he had made his way down to the beach at Brighton, England to see it clearly. When that eclipse occurred, everything went dark during the day. He hoped, fervently, that this would not happen tonight since he liked the days and nights as they should be - not all muddled up. Fredcat took one final look and went inside the house. "Yes, it is attractive," he remarked to his best human friend, "but nowhere near as colourful as my furry coverings." And with that, the aloof little moggie swept upstairs to bag a comfortable spot under the bed, just in case the strange events in the sky portended arrival of any triffids.
Fredcat has noticed that every now and then, his best human lady friend pops off somewhere and when she returns she somehow looks more gorgeous than ever. When he enquired about this it turned out that she had done something attractive to her head hair and was usually very pleased with the result. Good hair day cat Large image Male humans did not appear to carry on in the same way, which pleased Fredcat no end, because he was a male gender cat (forgetting for the moment that unfortunate visit to the v*ts after which his ardour seemed to have been compromised a touch.) The male humans appear to return with less hair than before and, some in particular, appear to have virtually lost all their mane! Fredcat could not remember having his hair dealt with in such a cavalier fashion: "dyeing" they called it, discreetly. Nor could he remember having his hair shorn to within an inch of its life, if you see what he means. The thought of having his lovely orange and white fur adulterated with a foreign substance appalled Fredcat and to have some of it cut off would be even worse. What if it did not grow back! Fredcat remembered with dismay when Forby was ill; the v*t had shaved off some of his fur. It never grew back. That would never do. There was only one way out of this situation. Creeping closer to his best human friend, Cathie, he whispered, "Do you think that if I had an extra dollop of prawns and some yoghurt that that might prevent the need for feline tonsorial attention in the future?," he whispered. "Absolutely no way will you be getting extra food today," said Cathie. "But, that reminds me, it is time for your flea treatment". But she found herself talking to thin air as our feline friend had somehow done a bunk. He knows when he is well off!
Promptly at 8am the doorbell chimed. These are very loud chimes indeed, to ensure that the humans hear them wherever they are inside the house. To Fredcat with his acute feline sense of hearing they naturally sound like the tolling of church bells! They do go on and on, and once started there is no way of stopping them. Watching paint dry Large image The humans usually try to avoid these chimes sounding by opening the doors when they see approaching visitors but this morning at that hour, they were far too sleepy. Fredcat heard them though, and immediately shot upstairs, where he laid low for quite a while. It was the dreaded "men" again, and they wanted to come inside. Some time ago the living room ceiling had sprung a leak and you may remember Fredcat saving the day by alerting the humans (see Fredcat's diary entry dated of August 22nd 2003). It had been a long time in the arranging, but the painters had now arrived to finish off the repair to the ceiling. A week ago, a workman had repaired the crack in the ceiling and now it was the turn of the painters. Fredcat watched from upstairs, fearful that paint might drop on his magnificent orange and white fur. Sheets were spread everywhere on the walls and on the floor and Fredcat thought it might be fun to investigate their undersides but caution about the "men" kept him at bay. The painting actually did not take long; normality was rapidly restored and the "men" left. Within an hour the repair was invisible to the human eye but Frecat knew it was there. He carefully circumnavigated the area underneath the newly painted area and made his way to his famous feeding area. Better not paint this little lot, he muttered. I might start throwing a tantrum and spill the lot over the floor.
Fredcat woke to a thick mist outside this morning, quite equal to the ones he had put up with back in England. When he came in from his early morning stroll his fur was wet through. The weather forecaster was waxing lyrical about the 100% humidity and Fredcat complained that it was "raining" out there, without it actually raining! (which does seem somewhat unfair ...) Sneezing cat Large image He was quickly towelled down before he rubbed his dampness off against the humans present. There must have been some thing nasty about the weather because Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie, had developed a sore throat and a strong hacking cough which was slowly developing into a good all-round cold. "This is not the 'flu," she said stoutly, and made her way, stumbling, to the car. "Oh, yes!," was the cynical response from Fredcat, "and I am not wet!" "My dear Fredcat," came the sarcastic riposte, "if you had the 'flu you would really know about it." Now Fredcat, despite being a world famous moggie, had had his share of arguments with ladies - both human and feline - in the past and he had quickly learned that it was useless arguing with anyone of the opposite gender; somehow they always seemed to have the last decisive word. Once his best human friend had departed for work, Fredcat turned his attention to the day's events. But before he could get his thoughts going, he developed a huge sneeze. The sneeze racked his whole being as he snuffled through a series of body-throbbing surges. "Oh dear," said our feline friend, "perhaps I am getting the 'flu or a cold." He looked archly at Mr. B. "I understand that the standard medical saying goes something like, 'Feed a cold and starve a fever'," he said. "Fat chance you'll ever starve," grumbled Mr. B, yet he moved once more towards the kitchen. "Does that cat never stop eating!" he grumbled. Fredcat just grinned. He was a good actor!
In England tomorrow, November 5, it is Bonfire Night. It is an event peculiar to Britain, and Fredcat is vey pleased that it has not travelled abroad. His memories of Bonfire Night are that it stretched well over the one night normally assigned to it - in actuality, it is more like Bonfire Month than anything else! This is definitely one period of the year when cats (and even d*gs) stay indoors because of the noise and danger. Bonfire Night cat Large image The best aspect of Bonfire Night used to be the splendid firework displays, both private and public, and the bonfires made of rubbish collected assiduously by yougsters in the weeks preceding November 5th. The bonfires, when lit, always drew crowds. Small children waved sparklers and big kids set off bangers. Chestnuts were roasted and potatoes baked on the glowing embers on the bonfires. It took ages for the red hot embers to cool but the warm fire kept out the cold British November weather for a while. No longer! The event has changed dramatically. Sales of fireworks have been banned to the under-18s, but that has partially driven sales underground. Fireworks have now become larger, and more dangerous. Apparently a mailbox has been blown to smithereens and a telephone box has also been demolished by very strong explosives - all supposedly in the name of Guy Fawkes, the chap who tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament in London hundreds of years ago. Every Bonfire Night has many people going to hospital to have injuries, mostly burns, tended. This year Fredcat reflects upon such distressing events from the serenity of his home. He thought that Hallowe'en was a great evening. Dressing up was good and is harmless to animals, unless they were also dressed up! Fredcat refuses such indignities, much preferring to lie low until all the fuss is over. He would be most seriously upset if anyone tried to blow up his sleeping quarters. Thinking of which, he went upstairs to have a wee kip until his next meal. He had to keep up his strength.
Fredcat strolled into the living room, stretched, yawned, leapt (with a certain agility!) onto the leather settee, tip-toed to his favourite spot - which neatly intersects the occupants of the two easy chairs so that said occupants have to crane their necks to see each other around the Famous Feline - and settled down contentedly. Scratching cat? No! Large image Fredcat's best human friend, Cathie was full of praise. "Do you realise that we have had this settee for over four years and Fredcat hasn't scratched it once in all that time!" she said. Now Fredcat is an indoor/outdoor cat (as are a few other cats in Fredcat's neighbourhood). A lot of American cats have their front paws declawed and, as a consequence, are unable to scratch, fight or climb as easily as does the Fredcat variety. These American cats are then deemed indoor cats, are given the freedom of the house, and cannot easily cause damage by scratching. Nice leather or soft wooden furniture is ideal to sharpen claws, noted Fredcat, but if that is forbidden then there has to be some alternative. Luckily for him, there are some excellent large trees around and they tend to have chunks ripped out of the their barks at about cat height. Small trees are, of course, safe The floors downstairs are also made of wood and one benefit of this is that one can hear Fredcat as he tippy-toes across from the kitchen towards the living room. Usually, Fredcat stops short at the foot of one of the living room chairs and gazes imploringly at the human sat therein. Surely it is time for food ... he appears to say, and he is usuually right. "O.K. Just this once," says Mr. B. and goes to the kitchen. "I am so famous," purrs Fredcat as he follows, happily. He knows how to get his own way!
Fredcat watched with interest as his favourite human, Cathie, started icing a Christmas (fruit) cake. The British version of this type of cake appears to be quite different to the US counterpart, he noted. But why is she preparing this cake so early? The Christmas season is still several weeks away! Where is my slice of cake? Large image The reason, Fredcat was told patiently, was that the cake was to be sent to England where it would be a gift for a relative, GEB, who could no longer make them for herself. "The icing is very thick and crusty looking," Fredcat mused, "It looks like snow on the ground!" "Precisely," said a pleased Cathie, "and when the little skating figures are placed on top of the icing it will look like a real winter's snow scene." Is there any meat in the cake?" enquired our hungry moggie, hopefully. "Goodness, no!" replied Cathie. "It has all sorts of fruits, nuts, raisins, and it's kept very moist with spoonsful of brandy, as befits a proper Christmas cake." "I think I would like a cake like that," said our hungry cat, "but I would like to suggest one or two changes. First, no icing - it's far too sweet for my liking, then no marzipan - far too yellow! Then leave out the nuts, raisins, and other fruit fillings, and, of course, the brown sugar, butter, eggs and spices - and then add in some tuna, and don't bother with baking, I'll manage it cold." "Hop it, Fredcat," said Cathie, aiming an icing-laden spoon in his direction. "You are not as famous as all that!"
The beginning of November has brought with it some surprisingly high temperatures - in the 80s, no less. Fredcat is delighted and thinks the weather is wonderful; he can laze around outside, simply dreaming. Instead of activity he spends his time watching with growing interest the recent arrivals of ladybirds (ladybugs) at his house. Thinking of ladybirds Large image The ladybirds arived three days ago. Fredcat could work out how it happened. It was a beautifully sunny day and when Fredcat emerged into the warm sunlight, they were there - in their hundreds! Most were busy clambering up the walls of the house but many were making their way inside through tiny cracks in the screens. Eventually, those that couldn't get inside, simply flew off into the clear blue sky. Fredcat thought, but only thought, about trying to catch them but this seemed difficult. In fact they were hardly worth catching because they were so tiny. He was not sure what they would taste like either with their off-putting red outer shells. He knew that in England the ladybird was treated as a good insect and one to be encouraged. They were an excellent predator for all the rather nasty, unpleasant insects which ravaged the delicate flowers like roses, etc. Last winter, quite a few ladybirds clustered together in the topmost areas in several of the rooms where they stayed, migration-style, until spring. Then, in ones and twos, they came to life and started to make their way outside. Doubtless, like spawning salmon, they will return next year and carry on their life cycle. Fredcat knows that ladybirds are welcome at his house since he is so famous and unbelievably kind-hearted. On the other hand, all this thinking has made him hungry and he yawned, stretched, and went inside for tea. Today it looks like roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, so that's good! |
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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.