He had some fish next to him. He seemed to be dropping it into something hot, which spat grease everywhere.
I saw that he had lots of that fish. I wanted to make sure he had less work to do, and I was hungry, so I waited till he was turned away from me, then jumped up and grabbed a piece. It was salmon. Yum.
I ran away. I ate my salmon. I was happy.
I like this time of year. All humans seem happier, and I have lots of naps.
I think I'll nap quite a bit over the next few days. I may not type much. Sleep, food, attention - these things are important.
I was sleeping at the top of my favourite comfy chair. It's very tall, but I like to sleep on the top bit. I can spread out and see all of my territory.
I had my eyes half open, and my human came towards me.
I needed attention and I sensed that belly rubs may be on their way.
I stretched out my front paws, blinked, let out a squeaky meow, rolled over... and fell off the top of the chair.
I managed to sit up, quickly, and pretend that I needed to lick my shoulder clean... but why did my human not stop me rolling over? It's his fault that I fell off.
I stared at him, walked off, and went to sleep in another room.
Something occurred to me while I was dribbling on my front paws: how do humans know that something is theirs? How do they know that they own something?
I rub my face and body on chairs, table legs, doors, door frames, plant pots, cupboards - covering them in my lovely catty scent. When I sniff them, I know they're mine. They smell of me.
I've never seen my human, or any other human, do this. I've never seen my human rub his face over his bed, his computer, the table he sits at. How does he know what's his? What if another human walked in and rubbed their face on his things - he wouldn't own those things anymore.
I've tried to show him how to scent mark, but he doesn't seem to pay attention. Silly human.
Sometimes, I'll be walking around, minding my own business, and my human will come along and pick me up, cuddle me, and do this weird thing where he puts his face to the top of my head and makes a 'mwah' noise.
What is this?
He sometimes comes up to me and does it when I'm having a nice, deep sleep, too.
Every time he does it, I have to do catty head shakes.
My human left a big, white sheet out. It was over the large comfy thing he usually sits on.
I jumped up onto the large comfy thing. The sheet smelt nice and clean, and felt soft. It seemed like a good place to nap.
I turned round five times, found my perfect position, and settled down to sleep.
I'm not sure how many catty hours went by, but my human came up to me and said; 'Oh Clive! Not on there.' He then lifted me up. I meowed in protest, but was still quite sleepy.
He put me on a chair.
He then came in with this weird roller thing and started rolling it over the sheet I was on.
I was confused. Don't leave nice, warm, clean, comfy sheets around if you don't want me to sleep on them.
I was annoyed, so I cleaned my back legs and my bum, and went back to napping.
My human approached me while I was napping, and woke me up.
I wasn't happy. I was having a nice dream about chasing meeces. My tail was wrapped round my nose - I was snug.
But ... he went to stroke me and I realised he wasn't using his hand. He was using something with lots of little spiky bits and a long handle ... and it felt amazing.
He ran it over my head, over my back, and along my side, and I was very happy. It made me purr.
I was so happy, that I dribbled all over my leg, then I got up and did a little happy dance - pushing my paws into my bed.
I was really pleased that my human woke me up. I much prefer the thing with the handle than his hand.
I have spotted something else about my human: something shocking.
I don't know how I never noticed it before.
When I do my dirt, I do it in my outside territory, then hide it. I'm not proud of it, and I like to keep the area clean, so I bury it.
If I do my dirt indoors, I do it in a box full of little stones... then bury it under the stones. It then disappears. I've seen my human put my dirt into a bag, with a scoopy thing, so that must be what happens - he puts it somewhere else.
But... my human did his dirt while I was still nearby. He did it in this big white thing that he always sits on. When he was finished, he pushed some button, then got up.
When he'd gone, I walked over to the big white thing, jumped up, and looked into it... and his dirt was gone! There was nothing there - just a puddle of water. Where did he put it? You can't bury things in water... and there was nothing there anyway.
I'm so confused. I looked at my human with suspicion all day. What does he do with his dirt?
My human seems to be busy today. I'm aware of this as it took 12 meows, 11 headbutts to his arm, and one nibble of his hand before he put some chicken out for me.
He seems to be tapping away at his keyboard, staring straight ahead.
I have decided that he probably needs my help, so - after flapping at some envelopes with my paws - I have chosen to stand guard and watch over him.
I'm sure that, with my help, he will no longer be busy, and will be free to scratch my ears.
I wandered to the front door, earlier, and meowed and meowed to be let out. I really wanted to go outside. I even started pawing at the door.
When my human arrived and said 'What, Clive?', I walked off - he'd taken too long to get to me and I didn't feel like going outside anymore.
Later, I felt like going outside through the back door. I meowed and meowed, and flapped at the blinds that were drawn down over it ... but my human took too long, again. When he reached me, I wandered off.
Sometimes my human comes over to give me attention while I'm sleeping.
This usually wakes me up, and I purr and stretch out so that he can pat and stroke all of me.
I really like having my chin tickled.
My favourite thing is to rest my chin on my human's palm and pretend that I'm so comfy that I've fallen asleep. I think he likes this, and it means that I don't have to bother holding my own head up.
I was watching my human do this thing he does every morning: rubbing stuff all over his teeth.
I sat by him for a bit, staring up at him and swishing my tail.
I
didn't feel I was getting enough attention, and I was interested in the
white stuff that he squeezed from a tube: it looked like food.
I meowed at him, loudly, until I got his attention.
He said 'what do you want, Clive?' so I just stared at him, then he bent down and I went to sniff the things he was holding.
I really wanted to see if the white stuff was food.
He
put a bit on his finger, and held it out. I sniffed it, and it was so
strong that it hurt my little catty nostrils, so I moved back... and he
smudged a bit on my nose.
I couldn't get it off!
It was stuck on my nose!
I tried to run away from the smell, but it was on my face!
Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!
I flapped my paws at my nose, but this just smeared it.
Then my human bent down again, and wiped it off my nose... but I could still smell it. I wandered off, doing catty headshakes.
I like doing this, particularly at this time of year when I can look around and blink at the sun, without getting too hot.
I was nice and relaxed, watching leaves fall down, and looking out for meeces, when ... something fell next to me!
I jumped catty miles into the air and ran towards my human, who was indoors.
I stopped at the door, looked back ... and realised that the thing which made me jump was just some kind of weird fruit that fell from a tree. I saw another one fall.
I went over and sniffed these fruits. They didn't smell of much, but they were spiky on the outside.
It's a dangerous time of year. I'll have to be careful.
It's the season for lots of little legs - lots of crunchy, tasty little legs.
Big spiders seem to be running around. I like to chase them - it's good hunting practice.
I like to paw them. They're quite small, so sometimes I make one or two of their legs falls off. If this happens, I eat the legs - they're very tasty, and crunchy.
Sometimes I accidentally kill the spiders. This makes me sad. Then I remember that I'm hungry, and eat the whole spider. They're small, crunchy, juicy, and yummy.
I think my human finds this weird. He just stares at me when I eat a spider.
The other spiders come inside, too - the flying ones. I like these. I can chase them around, while they fly in the air, then swat them down with my mighty paws. Their legs are a bit thinner, but they also have wings, so they have a good bite to them and are just as tasty as normal spiders.
My human was in the food room this morning. He was eating something (I sniffed it. It wasn't worth eating), reading something, and drinking something.
I was curious as to what was in the cup he was drinking from. It smelt funny. It made my little catty nose wrinkle. I also wanted some attention. I felt my human was reading too much.
I tapped the cup with my paw.
I tapped the cup again.
I tapped it harder. It wobbled.
I tapped it harder... and it fell over.
Hot, brown liquid went everywhere! It went on my catty fur! I meowed and jumped in the air. My human shouted 'Clive!', and I ran away.
I tried to lick the stuff off me, but it tastes weird and made me do a catty headshake.
He left the things he often uses to cover his lower paws - I think he calls them 'shoes'.
They have things attached to them which look like little meeces tails - white meeces tails. I have spent the morning pouncing on them and chewing them. It's been fun.
Sometimes, I like to go outside, sit down, and just look across my territory.
I'm not looking at anything in particular - I'm just watching all of the leaves moving, the grass rustling, any small movements, and any birds that might land... but with no plans to pounce.
I quite like sitting, staring, and twitching my ears.
After that, I usually go inside and ask my human for food.
