Winter Days In

As the daylight hours get shorter so I'm getting longer. I've been stretching myself out to 3 feet, inclusive of tail, along the back of the settee of late. This is just fine during the human working day but in the evenings I seem to have become a substitute headrest. In the interests of preserving my feline dignity, I respond by flicking my tail around in front of their eyes and mouth. This eventually brings on a satisfactory bout of spitting, spluttering and the desired restoration of my personal space. Oh so rare is it that the humans get the better of us!
Whilst on the subject of reminding humans of their place, I've also taken to lifting my meals out of the bowl and dumping it on the floor to eat. This is not because it tastes any better from such a position, as they may think, but merely because I know how much it annoys the them. Yup! The messier I can make it, the better the reaction. And just to complete the effect I find that leaving one or two dollops randomly scattered about is most satisfactory. They need to know where they stand in the animal hierarchy.
Millhouse and I tend to stay indoors more during the winter which results in a certain amount of boredom. To offset this we have the ritual bundle in the mornings after breakies. First we stare closely into each other's eyes, just like real boxers do. When we've worked up enough crossness, I smack his ears. He gives me bear hugs. Then comes the lunge and we roll around the floor gagging on mouthfuls of each other's fur for a while. In the end as per tradition, one of us declares by sauntering off quietly to tidy up our ruffled fur.
Unbeknown to the humans when they're out (and this must remain a secret), we also flick elastic bands at one another. Yes, 'tis true! That's why our thumbs are so far up our forearms; we can hit a raised furry ear from 15 feet away. The winner gets the best sleeping spot for the rest of the day.
Well, just lately the nights have been a tad warmer so I've taken a fancy to whittling in the dark. The trellis post by the front door is my favourite. At 4 o'clock in the morning I pop out and give the old post a damned good whittle. Very satisfying. Even better that I know it wakes up the humans from their deep slumbers indoors! Whittle, whittle, I go for ten minutes with all the vigour of a workman with a road drill!
Oh, the power of the velvet paw, eh?




Herky