Once Upon a Time, There was this Frog.............

Well, where were we? oh yes - you will no doubt all be relieved to know that I managed to get down from that tree where I was marooned. The nasty, snappy little Jack Russell eventually tired itself out what with all that yapping. It was sitting at the bottom panting away, when my pal Riley wandered past. Now regular readers will know that Riley is a somewhat large ginger cat, with the physique of a baby elephant. His previous encounter with the Jack Russell ended with the miserable mutt belly-up in the middle of a rose bush. Fearing a repeat performance the nasty little thing scampered off rather sharpish with it's tail between it's legs.

"Hello old boy" said Riley, "I think it's safe for you to come down now." With some difficulty, me and my poncy brother climbed down the tree. "I'm most deeply obliged" I said to Riley as I arrived at the bottom in a crumpled heap. "Think nothing off it old boy" he replied, "how did you get yourself into such a predicament in the first place?" I recounted the whole sorry tale to Riley, who despite his best efforts found it hard not to laugh. Do you know, us cats find it a lot easier to climb up trees rather than down - that's why sometimes we get stuck up them. It's our claws you see - we dig them in and pull ourselves up. A bit like mountaineers with crampons on their boots. Try the same trick on the way down and see what happens - let's just say you get down a lot quicker than you get up!

Riley seemed impressed with my knowledge of mountaineering. "I wonder why the housekeeping staff have the urge to climb mountains" he said, "no self respecting cat would do such a daft thing." I told him of a telly programme I saw recently about Mount Everest. Years go it was almost impossible to get up the thing, but nowadays all and sundry stroll up. There are concerns about litter strewn all over the place. I reckon they must have installed escalators, and built a Starbucks at base camp. Apparently you can get a Big Mac at the summit. "He does ramble on doesn't he" said Tabby. "All very interesting" said Riley, "but I must be off, I think I hear the can opener. Good day to the pair of you," and with that he was gone.When we got back to my garden, a delightful little story was unfolding. Ginger Tail, my stupid sister, was excitedly ferreting about in a bush. She'd only managed to catch a frog - I didn't know she had it in her. "Where did you get it from?" I asked in amazement. "I caught it in the long grass by that new pond just along the road" she said proudly. We had all gathered round to admire her catch when the back door opened and the one I don't trust came marching down the path. He seemed less than impressed when he saw what we had got. "I don't want any of you lot eating it" he said, "it'll only be coughed up in the lounge." Eating it!! Eating it!! He must think we're French? He obviously thought the thing had croaked, ho ho ho...... just one of my little froggy jokes, as he went and got a trowel to bury it.

He was just about to commit the body to the ground - quite moving really, ashes to ashes, dust to dust and all that stuff, when the corpse did actually croak, not once but twice. All four of us jumped back in amazement, and the frog jumped up in the air, clearly annoyed at the prospect of imminent interment. "Blimey, it's alive!" he perceptively observed. The pretty one appeared on the scene, and was soon issuing instructions. The frog was put into a little plastic pot with some wet grass, and left to convalesce. After about an hour, recovery was deemed to be sufficient, and it was decided to take said frog along the road and rehouse him near a little stream called The Thames, that runs nearby. Off they went, clearly savouring one of their few victories over us cats. Oh well, I thought as I dozed off on the settee, you can't win them all - although I usually do.A little while later my peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted as the door burst open, and the creature from the black lagoon stormed in. I dived under the stairs, well, you can't be too careful can you. Upon closer inspection, it was the one I don't trust. Something wonderful had happened - he had fallen down the river bank into the mud. If only the tide had been up, he might have been washed away for good. It turns out, the pretty one had made him clamber along the bank to a spot she deemed appropriate for the relaunch of Mr Frog, and he lost his footing. Oh how I laughed. The aroma was foul, as was his mood. The pretty one arrived, and blamed him for the fiasco, he in turn blamed us cats for catching the frog in the first place, and the frog croaked away quite happily in it's new home.

Well, that's my lot for today. I think you will all agree, a charming little tale. I love a happy ending. Did you here about the chap who went into a French restaurant, looked at the menu and said "waiter, have you got frog's legs?" "Oh yes sir" the waiter replied. "Well hop over here and take the order!" the chap said. What do you mean you've heard it before! There's no pleasing some people. What a Life! AlbertThe(corny)Cat.

Pond Life.........

Well, here we are again at the start of a new week. I've had a very interesting few days, since I was with you last. As you know, I have been taking an interest in the World Cup. I was most disappointed when my team, the indomitable lions of Cameroon were eliminated on a mere technicality - they scored less goals than the opposition. I wasn't sure who I should follow after that, so I went off to ask for advice from wise Old Black Tom - he is a very clever cat and knows everything. "Who's going to win the world Cup" I asked. "No idea" he said. I explained my predicament about who to support. Old Black Tom thoughtfully sucked on a tooth and told me that in Korea, they are very partial to cats. That's nice I thought I will follow them, they are bound to win. Would you believe it, they only went and lost as well.The blow was softened by yesterday's shenanigans. That's a good word for a cat isn't it. No idea what it means but I must make a note to use it more often. England were playing, and I snuggled up on the sofa to watch it alongside the one I don't trust. He was very bullish, "England are bound to win - we're only playing Germany" he said with blind optimism. Mind you, I think he had partaken of a small light ale beforehand. Anyway, the inevitable happened - they lost. I must say though, he took it like the true sportsman he is - cursing, swearing, shouting at the television and making crass references to the last war. I haven't laughed so much since Tabby got himself locked in the broom cupboard. The pretty one stuck her oar in - "I think England should have kicked it between the two white sticks like the Germans kept doing" she helpfully advised. It's hard to argue with such logic, but that didn't stop him. I took this as my cue to go for a stroll.

I found Old Black Tom and Riley, snoozing on the back wall in the sun. "Splendid day old boy" said Riley. "Certainly is" I replied and told them about the goings on at our place. We all had a little chuckle. I mentioned Korea to Old Black Tom, and he gave me one of his looks, so I changed the subject. "What's that noise coming from a few gardens along" I asked. "No idea" said Tom, "you and Riley go take a look and report back." When we returned, we told Tom that there were two scruffy chaps with shovels. "What are they doing" asked Tom. "Digging a big hole"I replied. "A big hole eh? Perhaps I should look into it" said Tom, as he and Riley fell about laughing. No idea why! Anyway we took Tom and showed him what was going on. Tom looked long and hard, and then said. "They're building a pond." See, I told you he was clever, how did he know that. "I think the hose pipe filling it with water is a bit of a giveaway" said Riley. "I expect they're going to put little fishes in it" said Tom. "Fishes!" I said excitedly, and was just about to rush off and get my knife and fork, but Tom reckoned it would be a few days yet before the fish arrived. All this talk of fish made me hungry, so I bade Tom and Riley farewell and wandered home to see if I could scrounge a few prawns.Well, that's your lot for today. It's baking here, and I need a nice lie down in the shade. You can't be too careful in the sun. As I dozed off, I started to ponder the wonders of the universe - men have been to the moon, why not the sun?. I remembered asking Old Black Tom about this once - he reckoned it was far too hot. They should go at night then I thought. Tom also told me that you can tell the time by looking at the sun - I've tried it, but it was too bright, I couldn't see the numbers or the hands! What a life! AlbertThe(piscatorial)Cat.

Happy Birthday - You Must be Joking!!!

Greetings one and all. Firstly, I must offer my thanks to the vast numbers of you who sent birthday wishes on the auspicious occasion of my fifth birthday earlier in the week. I know what you're thinking, "fifth birthday? we thought he told us he was four!" Well, here's a strange thing, I thought I was four! After much argument between Tabby, Ginger Tail and my good self, and after several recounts, we came to the conclusion that we were all five - doesn't time fly. This unfortunate confusion only lends credence to the malicious and totally unfounded rumours spread around by housekeeping staff that us cats can't count. You will undoubtedly remember my earlier missive on the subject - click here if you don't. Anyway, I agreed with Tabby and Ginger Tail that all four of us will close rank on this and not mention it again.

Back to my birthday - it was a bit of a damp squib really. The one I don't trust grudgingly offered up a few extra prawns which were gratefully received. Unfortunately my poncy brother and stupid sister both think it is their birthday as well, so I had to share with them - most unsatisfactory. After breakfast, I went for a stroll, thinking the local cats would have lots of presents for me. I bumped into Riley, when I say bumped, I don't mean literally. If you did have the misfortune to actually collide with Riley, you would do yourself serious damage - he's about the size of a London bus. "Morning old boy" said Riley, "what a splendid day." "It most certainly is" I replied, "and a very special one at that." "I know" said Riley, "it's Tabby and Ginger Tail's birthday isn't it, I expect you've got them a nice present."I was flabbergasted - my flabber has never been so gasted! "But it is my birthday" I said. "Ho Ho Ho," said Riley, "Tabby told me that you'd say that." "But it is" I said desperately. "Nice try Bert, but I'm not going to fall for it - it's a bit of a poor show to pull a trick like that, just to get your paws on your brother and sister's presents." I knew it, it's that duplicitous poncy brother of mine. I hate him - wait until I get my paws on him.

As I wandered off to look for Tabby, a voice called out "happy birthday Bert, many happy returns." I looked round, and there was wise Old Black Tom sitting on the back wall. That's a bit more like it I thought, and hopped up next to him. "I've got you some big fat prawns Bert, I hope you like them" he said. "Most acceptable, I'm deeply obliged. I expect they will be delicious" I replied, and sat there expectantly. After an uncomfortable silence, I said, "shall I take them then?" "What do you mean?" he replied, "I thought you would have eaten them by now." "I haven't even seen them" I quickly replied. "Of course you have" said Old Black Tom, "Ginger Tail was here a little while ago, and to save me a journey, she very kindly offered to take them for you. She is a very thoughtful little cat, she knows I can't get around as well as I use to, and said it would save me a journey. How kind."I couldn't believe it. I rushed home, to be greeted by Ginger Tail and Tabby sitting on the back step licking their lips. "We've just eaten a big pot of prawns that Old Black Tom gave us" said Ginger Tail. "But they weren't yours, they were meant for me" I said. "Well we knew you would want to share them with us" said Tabby, "so we made a start. We were going to leave a few for you, but they were so nice, before we knew it they had all gone." Can you believe it, stitched up by my own kith and kin!

Well, that's my lot for today. I'm off to annoy the nasty little Jack Russell that lives next door. It always makes me feel better when I am in a bad mood. Do you know, I heard his owner talking the other day. Apparently she had to take him to the vet because he kept scratching. The vet told her that the mutt had a touch of mange. She was outraged and demanded a second opinion. "OK" replied the vet, "he's got fleas as well!" Ho Ho Ho.... What a Life! AlbertThe(five year old)Cat.

Dining Out!

Hello again. I don't know where the time goes, it's Monday again. They seem to come round every week. I don't like Mondays. Although they are much the same as every other day for a cat of leisure like myself, the housekeeping staff are always more crabby than usual. They were getting on my nerves this morning, so much so, that I was up and out as soon as possible, stopping only for a light breakfast of prawns and biscuits.

I wandered along the back wall, and peered over into the garden next door. The snappy little Jack Russell came scampering up and said "meow!" I think he must be learning a foreign language - Ho Ho Ho, just one of my little jokes. Seriously though, he hasn't been quite the same since his highly amusing encounter with Riley. Talking of Riley, I wonder where he has got to. I haven't seen hide nor hair of him since he moved in. I went to investigate. As we know, it is hard to miss Riley, he is the size of a small lion. His house was still there, but no sign of Riley. After a while, I heard a terrible kerfuffle, whatever one of those is, coming from inside the house. Much hissing and spitting was interspersed with the most appalling language. The back door was flung open, and much to my amazement, Riley came out with his head held high, but unfortunately, his feet were held even higher. He landed in an untidy heap on the garden path. You can only admire the strength of his owner, how such a small woman managed to pick him up, let alone chuck him out is a considerable feat. Riley looked back, gave a defiant growl and strolled down the path."Where have you been recently" I asked. "She trapped me" he replied, "I've been confined to barracks. She's got this daft idea that she had to keep me indoors after they moved house so that I acclimatised to my new surroundings." "Yes, but what about all that noise?" I said. "Oh that, just a minor skirmish, old boy, I bit her" he said casually. "What did you do that for?" I asked. "Got fed up being indoors, so I thought if I made a big enough nuisance of myself she would eventually crack and throw me out" he said. What a clever cat I thought. "Anyway now that I am out, you can accompany me for a stroll round the patch old boy. I need to stretch the legs" he said. They don't need that much stretching I thought - he's big enough already.

"I'm feeling a bit peckish" said Riley, "missed breakfast this morning. Probably should have waited until after she fed me before biting her. Anything on offer round your place old boy?" Well, I would have been delighted to invite him in for a snack, but there is no way he would fit through the cat flap - I mean it is a bit of a squeeze even for a sleek and lithe cat like my good self. "Who is he trying to kid?" Who said that? How rude. I'll have you know I am in peak condition, if I grew a bit longer I would be the perfect size for a cat of my weight. Riley has got a head the size of a water melon, so there is no way he would get in.

I suggested we try a dustbin in a garden just along the road. Mad Harry and Slasher Sid often dine there, and it comes highly recommended. We walked up to the bin, and it did smell rather good, but unfortunately the lid was on. "Not a problem old boy" said Riley who by this time had got the scent of roast chicken in his nostrils. "Can't let a little thing like that stop us can we." He stood on his hind legs, put his great big front paws on the bin and gently lent on it. The whole thing went crashing to the ground spilling the contents all over the place. I was off and over the wall like a shot. The woman must have been out, because when I returned, Riley was sifting through contents. "Not bad" he said, "I think I'll have the mackerel heads for starter, followed by the chicken carcass, with the lickings from the cream container for dessert. How about you old boy." I had the same. After we had eaten our fill, we went for a nap on the shed roof before going our separate ways. Riley reckoned his owner would have calmed down and seen the error of her ways. I wasn't so sure, but I bade him farewell and wandered off home.Well that's my lot for today. Quite an exciting day really. Perhaps I should write a good dustbin guide, a sort of Egon Ronay thing for cats. I could grade all the local bins based on the quality of their contents. Riley would be my inspector and pop round unannounced to sample the offerings. Instead of stars, we could award "fish-heads". Imagine the prestige of having a three "fish-head" bin. Cats who after all, are lovers of fine dining would come from miles away. This reminds me of my favourite restaurant joke - "Waiter, there's a fly in my soup" "Don't worry sir, the spider on the bread roll will get it" Ho Ho Ho - Oh well, please yourselves. What a life! AlbertThe(gastronomic)Cat.

Beware of the Dog, or Should that be Cat?

Well here we are at the end of another week. I went out this morning to look for our new friend Riley who moved in yesterday. He shouldn't be hard to spot, he is the size of a bus! I wandered along the back wall until I came to his house, but there was no sign of him. Perhaps his owners have carried out their threat to keep him in the house for a while to acclimatise to his new surroundings - another stupid human misunderstanding. All they need to do is make sure the food bowl is regularly topped up, and we won't roam too far away.

I was wondering where he was when I looked up - he was staring forlornly out of the bedroom window. Perhaps I can spring him I thought. There is a large apple tree with branches close to the window, so I climbed up and hopped across on to the sill, whereupon Riley leaned on the window and pushed it open, knocking yours truly off the sill. Fortunately the ground broke my fall. No, I jest, I actually landed in the compost heap, so apart from my pride, no damage was done. I rose to my feet, with all the dignity I could muster. Riley was looking down, "do you want something old boy" he enquired. "I thought you were locked in" I said. "So did my owner" he chuckled. He scrambled down the tree, and we went and sat on the back wall. "Do you mind moving downwind a bit old boy" he said, "you do rather smell."It seems the compost heap was rather a mixed blessing. It reminded me of a story my Great Uncle Porky once told me. He was taken to see the bloke who sticks needles in us once a year because his feet were smelling and his nose was running - the vet said he was built upside down! Ho Ho Ho.. just one of Uncle Porky's little jokes. "Come on, I'll show you round the patch" I said and we strolled off. First stop was our place. I introduced him to Tabby and Ginger Tail. He towered over them and they greeted him somewhat nervously. "What's that rotten smell" said Tabby. "Bert fell in the compost heap" said Riley - Oh how they all laughed. I hate that poncy brother of mine, I really do!

I told Riley to beware of the nasty snappy little Jack Russell that lives next door. We all jumped up on to the wall and sure enough, he was out in the garden. The site of all four of us sent him into a frenzy - he was jumping up and down at the wall, yapping away. We just sat there and hissed at him. "He does go on doesn't he?" said Riley, who then proceeded to hop down off the wall into the garden. We looked on in horror as the nasty thing charged towards Riley. "Get out of there" I shouted. Riley cast me a contemptuous glance, and then walked slowly towards the thing.

The mutt was apoplectic by the time it got to Riley, who just stared at it. Riley lifted one of his massive paws and and cuffed the thing on the side of the head. It rolled over three times and came to rest in a rose bush - Riley hissed, the dog whimpered and scampered away with it's tail between it's legs. "Don't think he'll cause too many problems" said Riley, picking up one of the mutts old bones and gently crunching it in his huge jaws. "Would you like a piece" he asked as he rejoined us on the wall. We all very politely declined his kind offer. "Can't imagine why they've got a Beware of the Dog sign on the gate" he said, "probably worried about someone treading on it" he mused.Well that's my lot for today. Riley decided he'd had enough excitement and it was time for his pre-lunch nap. "Where abouts in the house do you sleep" I asked. "Anywhere I damn well like!" he replied. I hope you enjoy your lunch I thought - probably half a side of beef! The rest of the tour will wait for another day. I suppose I had better go indoors and clean up on the settee, I mean the housekeeping staff will not want to see me in this state will they? Have a good weekend. I will return next week. What a life! AlbertThe(fragrant)Cat.

New Kid on the Block!

Hello again. I have had a very interesting day. I rose early, at the crack of lunchtime, although I had been up for a short while earlier, not wanting to miss out on breakfast you understand. Standards are slipping in this establishment - I mean, breakfast in bed is not asking a lot really is it? Anyway, we'll let that pass for the time being. I decided to go for a gentle stroll.

I found wise Old Black Tom in his usual place sitting on the back wall a few houses along. He is a very clever cat - he knows absolutely everything. There was an awful lot of noise coming from a nearby house. "What's happening here" I asked. "No idea" said Tom. We decided to go and investigate. Must be careful I thought, we all know what curiosity did to the cat! We crept along the wall and over a shed roof until we could see in the window. What a site greeted us - people rushing round with boxes, carrying furniture, laying carpets and drinking vast quantities of tea. "Looks like new people are moving in" said Tom. We watched for a while - a fellow in a brown coat was unpacking a glass vase when it fell on the floor and smashed. "Quick, sweep up the bits and hide it before the owner comes back" said his mate, "if she sees it, she will go mad." How kind I thought, going to all that trouble so as not to upset her.After most of the boxes had been unpacked, the two brown coated chaps carried in a large packing case - it looked very heavy. When they opened it we had the shock of our lives. Inside was the biggest cat carrier you ever did see. "Can't wait to see what's inside that" said Tom. "I can" I replied nervously, "it must be huge - probably a lion!" The woman, told the men to be careful not to let it out. Too late, the beast inside clawed one of the men through the grill and they dropped it. The container burst open, and the biggest ginger tom I've ever seen hoved into view. It looked at the men, growled, hissed and spat. With fear in their eyes they immediately fled the room, and were halfway up the stairs when they bumped into the owner. "The things escaped" said one of them. "Which way is it going" enquired the owner. "Well you don't think we're chasing it do you?" he wittily replied as he rushed past. They say that crossing on the stairs brings bad luck - it certainly did for him, she hit him with a frying pan she had just unpacked.

Meanwhile, the cat approached the back door and gave it a shove, but unfortunately it was closed. Not to be deterred, he took two paces back, lunged forward, put his shoulder to the door and emerged blinking into the sunlight. He started walking towards us. "I'm off" I said. "No, no" said Tom, "we should introduce ourselves, he could be a useful addition to the local gang." He joined us on the shed roof. "Hello, I'm Tom, and here behind me is Bert" said Tom. "Nice to meet you, my name is Riley. Who is your invisible friend?" "What" said Tom turning around, "Bert, come down out of that tree at once - he's not going to eat you!" Maybe not, but you can't be too careful can you? I jumped down and shook paws with Riley - he nearly crushed mine. I reckon he has got a bit of lion in him you know - probably ate one for breakfast."Just moved in?" I asked. "Yes" replied Riley. We were rudely interrupted by the owner rushing out into the garden calling Riley in a worried voice. "How dare they crate me up like that." said Riley. "My lot are really stupid, they have this daft idea that they should keep me confined to barracks for a few weeks until I forget where I used to live. They think I will try and return. Why would I do such a thing - nothing to go back for, I mean to say, I saw with my own eyes all the food being taken out of the refrigerator and loaded into the removal van." Riley hissed at the owner just to keep her on her toes. "I think I'll go back in a couple of hours after they have unpacked the cat food - it'll do her good to worry about me. Make her appreciate me even more." Mmmm.... a cat after my own heart I thought.

Well, that's my lot for today. I'll have to think about organising a little welcome party for our new friend. I think it is very important that I keep on the right side of him. I think we should roll out the red carpet, covered in cat hair of course, for him. After all, he told me that he is used to the finer things in life. His owner spoils him something rotten apparently. Must be what they mean by The Life of Riley! What a life! AlbertThe(smarmy)Cat.