Summertime and the Going is Easy....

Who wrote that rubbish, I've never heard of anything so stupid. Summertime is not easy at all. We have just endured a hot, sunny weekend here in London. Thank goodness it's Monday, that's all I can say. As you may have noticed, I've been taking it rather easy recently - what do you mean you hadn't noticed! I don't know why I bother. Anyway, I felt compelled to put pen to paper (or should that be paw to keyboard?) today.

A little bit of sunshine, and the locals go stark raving mad. I don't know what gets into them - they all seem to take to their gardens and get up to the most ludicrous things. All my little haunts where I creep off to for a quiet nap, all taken over by people in funny clothes laying about on the grass, and getting up to all sorts of ridiculous things. The only place to get a decent kip is indoors, all the houses are empty. I'm just pleased most of them have cleared off back to work this morning and left me in peace. What a weekend I've had.I don't know where to start - barbecues seems as good a place as any. Now I thought a barbecue was a long line of people waiting to have their hair cut. It's not compulsory to laugh at this point, but please do try!! Anyway, what a strange ritual this is. The men, who often don't even know where the kitchen is, all of a sudden think they can cook. The sweet scent of the summer flowers is completely overwhelmed by the fragrant aroma of burnt sausage, and the bright sunshine all but obliterated by wafts of smoke that resemble a November fog rolling in off the North Sea.

Why do they do it? I mean who wants to eat meat that is burnt to a cinder on the outside and raw in the middle - must be an acquired taste. So as not to be left out, we had a barbecue in our back garden. The one I don't trust put a skewer of prawns on. "Bert will like one of these" he said. Well, I would have done before he got his hands on them. He threw one in my direction. Good job I ducked - if it'd hit me, it would have knocked me out! He seemed genuinely put out when I turned my nose up at it. Now I've got a pretty good set of choppers, but even I couldn't bite through it. And another thing it smelt like it had been gently tossed in a petrol and crushed coal marinade before cooking - not to my taste at all, but they ate them.I wandered off in search of peace, but in every garden I came to, similar things were going on. People of all shapes and sizes eating burnt food, their eyes running from the smoke, their faces slowly going bright red, and all dressed in funny clothes. Most of them were wearing shorts. Now some people..... how can I put this delicately...... let us just say people of a certain size and leave it at that, shouldn't be allowed to wear shorts. What a sight! I think a licence should be necessary to wear shorts. In another garden, I heard a woman tell her daughter in a very loud voice that all the neighbours could hear, to go and play in the swimming pool. Swimming pool I thought, they've put that in quick, they didn't have one yesterday. When I looked, it was nothing more than a plastic blow up thing with a couple of inches of water in it. If I had a bit of a thirst on, I could drink it in one go. I even had a look out into the front street, and all I could see was an Englishmen taking his mad dog for a walk in the mid-day sun. A little joke for my more cultured readers - all three of you.

Well, that's my lot for today. I hate the hot weather, roll on winter that's what I say. I heard the pretty one say "that sun is very hot today." The one I don't trust replied "well don't touch it then" before collapsing into fits of laughter. She gave him an icy stare - there could be a cold front moving in any time now! What a life! AlbertThe(scorched)Cat.

Staff Problems...

I'm not very happy today - problems with the housekeeping staff you see. They've been getting a bit too familiar lately, taking liberties if you know what I mean. Only yesterday the pretty one referred to me as "Bertie Boy." Yes, "Bertie Boy." Outrageous I hear you say. I don't mind my friends calling me Bert, but "Bertie Boy!!!!" I think the staff should stick to Albert. When you are in a position of authority like my good self you must maintain standards. It's the thin end of the wedge. Before you know it, one thing leads to another and heaven forbid, she'll be picking me up. "I'd like to see her try, you must weigh half a ton" Who said that? It's my poncy brother, how rude, I wish he'd clear off.

Anyway, you get my point. I indulge her occasionally and let her stroke me, especially if there is a prawn in it, but I do draw the line at being picked up! The one I don't trust tries it occasionally. Last time it happened, I was crated up and taken to see the bloke who sticks needles in us once a year. I managed to inflict quite a bit of damage to his arm. He made a dreadful fuss, but it was only a flesh wound.I am getting a bit worried about their attitude. Take this morning for example. For some reason they had to be up early - miserable as sin they were, arguing with each other, banging about - it really disturbed my beauty sleep. "You need plenty of that!" It's that damn brother of mine again, I thought he'd gone. They should think themselves lucky that I give them a few hours off to get some sleep. They were in such a rush to get out, that they neglected to give me my prawns for breakfast. I heard her tell him to make sure we were OK. "They're fine" he said, "they won't starve." Then they rushed out the door leaving only a dish full of biscuits and water. You'd expect better service in a doss house wouldn't you.

I need to teach them a lesson, let them know who's boss. "Perhaps you should disappear for a few hours, or days even, that would be better" said Tabby. "They'll be really worried." Not a bad idea I thought so off I went. After a couple of hours, I got a bit peckish, and I thought they would have seen the error of their ways, so I decided to go back. When I arrived, the staff were already there. I crept in through the flap and Tabby was waiting. "Have they missed me, are they worried?" I asked. "Oh yes" said Tabby, "they are mortified, so much so that they had to have a sit down and watch telly." I took a peep and I must say they appear to have recovered very well from the shock! "They put a big heap of prawns down when they got back. We thought you were staying away for ages. It seemed a shame for yours to go to waste, so me and Ginger Tail scoffed the lot - they were lovely" said Tabby who appeared to be semi-convulsed with laughter - I hate him, I really do.

Well, that's my lot for today. I can't believe the bad luck I have. I thought black cats were supposed to be lucky, and I'm sort of half black. That brother of mine is no help. He's the type of cat, that just when you think you've hit rock bottom, he throws you a shovel. One day I'll sort him out. I'm going to go and sit next to the one I don't trust and lull him into a false sense of security. I'll show him. Think I'll go outside and sharpen up the old claws on his cherry tree first. What a life! AlbertThe(disgruntled)Cat.

The Owl and The Pussycat!

I've been very busy today. We had a visitor this morning, a friend of the pretty one. I hate visitors. Came round for coffee. When she arrived, I gave a disgruntled look and was about to clear off when she looked at Ginger Tail, who was shamelessly preening herself and said what an adorable pussycat she was. Honestly, there is no accounting for taste. Putting that aside, it started me thinking. "Surely not!" Who said that? How rude. Pussycat is a very strange expression. Now I've always thought that it stems from the funny scientific names that humans give to all animals - Pussus catti, but I was wrong. Amazing I know, but true. I've been doing some research and I've uncovered all sorts of things.Now pay attention you lot, because this is going to be very educational today. There are two schools of thought. The earliest reference to "puss" goes back to 1530 - half past three in the afternoon in your language, it didn't say which day though. It is a German word for cat. Alternatively, the Romanian word for cat is "pisika." So, you pays your money and takes your pick. I soon got bored with this, but I found something a lot more interesting - I came across a poem called "The Owl and The Pussycat." What's this all about I thought. Well, you've never read such twaddle in your life. Take a look for yourselves.

The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
A cat and an owl? How absurd. I saw an owl once when I was out for a bit of late night ratting, sitting on a fencepost it was. Gave me a very nasty turn I'll have you know. As for getting in a boat with the thing, well I don't care if it's yellow with pink stripes, you won't get me in it!

They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
Honey - what no prawns! The poor cat would starve. Us cats have no need for money. I thought everything was free, it is round here.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
I've heard it all now, an owl playing a guitar. How does it do that? It would have to use it's claws and beak presumably. All very far fetched if you asked me.

"O lovely Pussy! O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are, you are, you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are."
The cat may have been very good looking, but all an owl can do is hoot. "Hoot Hoot" it goes all the time. It would have driven the cat round the bend.

Pussy said to the Owl "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing.
O let us be married, too long we have tarried;
But what shall we do for a ring?"
Elegant fowl? Have you seen an owl? Ugly as sin, great big flat head, looks like someone has hit it in the face with a shovel. No self respecting cat would say such a thing.

They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows,
What on earth is a Bong-tree? I don't know what the bloke who wrote this was on, but I'll have a large one - Ho Ho Ho...

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose, his nose, his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
Piggy-wig! Well this is getting sillier all the time.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling your ring?"
Said the Piggy, "I will"
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
As they bought the ring for a shilling, one can only assume that the pig had change for their five pound note. I thought turkey's lived in the freezer not on a hill. I recall hearing the one I don't trust ask the pretty one how long you can keep a turkey in the freezer. "About a couple of months" she said. "That's strange" he replied, "I put one in last night, and it was dead this morning!"

They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
Pretty poor fare I would suggest. Where's the prawns and fresh tuna. You'd think a side of salmon would be appropriate, I mean it's not every day that you get married - not to an owl anyway. A runcible spoon? Whatever one of those is - I prefer my dish.

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand.
They danced by the light of the moon, the moon, the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Surely paw in claw, not hand in hand. Wonder what sort of dance? I tried tap dancing once. It wasn't a great success, I kept falling in the sink. Ho Ho Ho...Well, that's my lot for today. Who writes this stuff? I may be a bit if a sceptic, but do you know, I don't believe a word of it. Still it's not often you turn up here for a spot of literature is it. What a life! Perhaps I should review Shakespeare next, although personally I've never seen what all the fuss is about - much ado about nothing if you ask me. AlbertThe(pussy)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.

Democracy Rears it's Ugly Head!

Hello everyone. I trust you are all well. Today is a very important day apparently. I'm led to believe there is a General Election. Why on earth we need more generals is a complete mystery to me. The army is stuffed with them. "It's got nothing to do with generals" said Tabby in a somewhat condescending manner. "They're electing a new government" he said. "Why? what have they done with the old one" I asked. "Nothing, every five years they elect a new one" said Tabby. "It's a waste of time talking to him" said Ginger Tail, "he's a complete idiot." "That's a bit unfair" said Tabby, "he's not a complete idiot - there are bits missing!" Oh how they laughed! I'm really fed up with those two, I wish they'd clear off.Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, there is a general election today. I wonder where I have to go to vote? I think I'll ask wise Old Black Tom. I found him in his usual place on the back wall contemplating the meaning of life, all nine of them. He is the fount of all knowledge, and knows absolutely everything. "Where do I have to go and vote" I asked. "No idea" he replied, "I don't take much interest in such things, it's only for the staff after all." I was outraged - "what, us cats don't get a vote - but we run the place!" I replied. "I know" said Old Tom, "but they think they do. It's best to let them carry on under the illusion that they are in charge. Don't want to rock the boat do we." Rocking boats, what have they got to do with it, perhaps the navy is involved as well.

Old Tom told me a bit about how it all worked - very interesting stuff. Apparently they wander off to a little place down the road, where they put a "X" on a piece of paper next to someones name. When it's all over they add all the "X's" up, and whoever has the most wins and then pretends to run the country. When we wake up tomorrow, everything is back to normal with us cats in charge. Simple really. Did you know, it is only in recent times, the last few years probably, that women have been able to vote. Now if I've remembered this right, it was all brought about by a lady called Emily Pancake and some courgettes. All sounds a bit far fetched to me, but I didn't like to show my ignorance. "That'll make a change" - who said that? How rude! I presume she threw the said vegetables at the men until they got fed up with her and let her vote.

We've got some courgettes growing in the garden, I wonder if I could do the same and get cats the vote. I mean, who better - do you remember my landslide victory in the local elections last year. I could lead a popular campaign to get votes for cats. It would be a massive uprising, and I would ride a tidal wave of feline support all the way to Downing Street. Alternatively, I could go back home for a spot of lunch and a nice nap. What a big decision - I'm feeling a bit tired, so I think I'll go for the nap after all.Well, that's my lot for today. I hope you have all learnt something. When I got back, my poncy brother and my stupid sister were still loafing about. I told them all about the pancake lady. "See, I told you he's stupid" said Ginger Tail, "everyone thinks so." Tabby stuck up for me though - he said that everyone can't think I'm stupid, because I haven't met everyone yet. So, that was nice of him - I think. What a Life! AlbertThe(campaigning)Cat.

It's a Frogs Life!

Good day to you all. What a tough weekend I've had. You will recall, the one I don't trust threatened to reduce my already meagre prawn ration if I didn't keep the blackbirds off of his newly planted grass seed. I've been out on guard duty in all weathers - thunderstorms, hail, gales, lightning, tornadoes, you name it, we've had it. "What are you talking about - nothing more than a spot of drizzle and a gentle breeze." Don't tell them that! It's my stupid sister, I wish she would shut up. Anyway, moving on , I can safely say that no blackbird has eaten even one seed. "What about those two pigeons who were so stuffed - they could hardly take off?" Look, I won't tell you again, shut up! Ooh, she is a nuisance.Yesterday was a public holiday. It poured down most of the day. Apparently it always rains on such occasions. Personally I don't agree with the things, I mean why on earth do they need another holiday - it is a real pain. The housekeeping staff just loaf about, not knowing what to do with themselves. All the time they were hanging about the place I had to pretend to be on guard duty. At least they have cleared off today leaving me in peace to go and have a nice kip on the bed. He will never know if anything has eaten the seeds - I doubt if they will grow anyway, not after I've had a good roll on them, well, the ones that are left that is. Hoe Hoe Hoe.... pay attention, that was just one of my little gardening jokes!

While I was taking a break from the arduous guard duty, I had a little stroll around the local patch. A few gardens along, there is a pond. I was looking into it, hoping one of the little fishes would come up to the top when I heard this strange croaking noise behind me. Would you believe it, a frog jumped out of the grass, straight into the pond, and splashed water all over me. It gave me quite a turn! Anyway, after I came down from the tree, I had another look, and do you know, the pond was full of little black things swimming about. Now, for the uninitiated these are called tadpoles and apparently they turn into frogs - a neat little trick, no idea how they do it.

I expect you are impressed, you didn't know that along with my many other talents - ornithology, horticulture, etc. I am also a keen naturist. Are there no ends to your talents Bert, I hear you cry. "There most certainly are." Who said that? "You mean naturalist not naturist" laughed Tabby. It's my poncy brother, what's he doing here? "A naturist is someone who likes running around without any clothes on" he said, "remember, just like you after the bloke who sticks needles in us once a year had to shave you after the unfortunate incident with the pot of green paint when you were a kitten, oh how we laughed." We won't go into that! I hate him, I really do. What does he know anyway. "Why do people who know about frogs have to take their clothes off?" I shrewdly asked. He had no answer. He really shouldn't get involved in arguments with a cat of my intellect. Anyway, how was I to know that old can was full of paint.
Well, that's my lot for today. Suppose I'd better get back on sentry duty before the one I don't trust returns. The damn pigeons will be back for their lunch I expect. I reckon they are redundant carrier pigeons. What with e-mail and text messaging they have too much time on their hands. Nothing to do all day but eat our grass seed. The things I have to put up with. What a life! AlbertThe(fully clothed)Cat.

The Return of Bert.....

Greetings one and all. I'm back. "About time too!" Who said that? How rude. Have you missed me? I said, have you missed me? Don't all shout at once will you. Well, the one I don't trust finally returned from his travels yesterday, and gave me my computer back. I've no idea where he has been. Everything seems to be getting back to normal. In a funny sort of way, I have quite missed him. Life has been pleasant without him, I mean the pretty one has spoilt us rotten, but without the little triumphs I enjoy in my ongoing battle with him, life somehow lacks a challenge.

He seemed quite pleased to see me - I think. Well, he gave me Tabby and Ginger Tail a decent handful of prawns each this morning. The first thing he did when he got back, was to take a look round the garden. Before he went away, he had spent a lot of time planting all manner of things. He even went to great lengths to protect seeds and plants from unwelcome visitors and pests. Now, I'm sure he didn't mean to include me in this, because I had no trouble in getting under the netting and through his amateurish fences to dig in my usual places. They present no challenge at all to a cat of my outstanding intellect. "Tell them how you got your head stuck in the hole in the fence" - it's that poncy brother of mine. I wish he would clear off.Anyway, moving swiftly on, the one I don't trust didn't seem all that impressed with my efforts. His main wrath however was reserved for the birds. He has planted some seed on the bare patches of scruffy grass that he laughingly calls a lawn. While he was standing at one end of the garden, a blackbird landed at the other and duly commenced to tuck in. In a state of near apoplexy he ran after it. The blackbird scooped up a final beakful of seed before flitting up on to the fence and chirping cheerfully in his general direction. This made things worse - he came towards me shaking his fist - "three cats on the payroll" he said, "and I've got birds eating the damn grass seed." He then threatened all three of us with reduced prawn rations if we didn't buck our ideas up. What an outrage I thought. I'm not standing for that.

What can I do to show him who is in charge round here. He has some cumbercu plants - I think that's what they are called. Small marrows I believe. Being a keen horticulturist, I am aware that they are classified as squashes - why are they called that I hear you ask. Obvious really, when I roll around it squashes them, Ho Ho Ho.....Well that's my lot for today. Just time to tell you about the little red things he has planted - most peculiar they are. Do you know I can hear them talk, very quietly though, in a whisper in fact. Unusual for a vegetable don't you think? They must be hoarse radishes! Ho Ho Ho.... I don't know where I get them from. Please yourselves, I thought it was funny. In case he is serious about his malicious threat to deprive me of prawns, I have decided to take up guard duty to keep the pesky blackbirds away. See you all next week. What a life! AlbertThe(ever alert)Cat.

Off with a Bang, or Going with the Flow!

What a pleasant surprise for you lot. You didn't expect to hear from me again until next week, did you? This is a little bonus. You will recall, the last time I wrote, the one I don't trust was going away until next week - excellent news, but the drawback being that he took my computer with him. Well, would you believe it, he only went and turned up on the doorstep this morning. You could have knocked me down with a feather. We have been enjoying a rare old time - the pretty one has spoilt us rotten. Extra prawns, sleeping all night (and most of the day) on the bed, no abuse when digging holes in the garden - it's been truly wonderful, how life should be.

Why has he come back early I hear you cry. Apparently he was supposed to get on an aeroplane this morning but a volcano erupted! I immediately dived under the bed, you can't be too careful can you! I'm sure I would have noticed a volcano going off, I mean, not much gets past me! It would have woken me up. He insists it's true though.Apparently the volcano is a little way north of here - in the next road I expect. It has chucked out so much ash and dust, that nothing is allowed to fly. What an opportunity I thought - I rushed straight out into the garden to see what the birds were up to. I mean if they can't fly, it should be easy for me to catch the little critters. Much to my disappointment, no one seems to have told them, because they were still flitting about as usual. They ought to be careful though, I mean if they fly over the top of the volcano they will roast - Mmmmmm.... roast pigeon, very tasty!

As regular readers know, we live in London, near the airport, so aeroplanes fly over our back garden all day, and most of the night! Damn nuisance they are - every time I doze off, another one goes over the top. Now come to think of it, we haven't seen one for days now, so there must be some truth in this. I wonder how long this will go on for - until the dust settles I expect, Ho Ho Ho..... There is some good news - the return home by the one I don't trust is only temporary. He is off again tomorrow, having made alternative arrangements to travel by train. Not sure where he is off to, don't really care actually, as long as he goes! He is going to take my computer again, so I won't be back until next week when he returns.Well, that's my lot for today. It's all I've got time for. I was going to tell you all about my recent exploits in the garden but that will have to wait. To cut a long story short, he planted lots of seeds before he went away, and then devised a cunning plan to stop me rolling on top of them. When he finds out his plan failed there could well be a volcano closer to home - he will blow his top! I've always said he was full of hot air! I'm off to look for the volcano, I can smell roast pigeon. See you next week. What a Life! AlbertThe(quaking)Cat.

Good News and Bad News!

Greetings folks. What a day I've had! There is some really hot news - very good news for me, but not so good for you lot. I don't know where to begin.

Probably best to start with the good news. The housekeeping staff were talking this morning, and as I like to keep abreast of what is going on around here, I was earholing their conversation from behind a chair. The one I don't trust is going away for a couple of weeks. At first I was horrified, as I assumed the pretty one would go with him, and we would be shipped off to Camp Colditz to endure the harsh regime presided over by the evil camp commandant. But no, she is staying here to look after me and the other two.

Wonderful news isn't it? I mean he is a damn nuisance and we will be well shot of him for a while. Good riddance is what I say. I can't wait for him to clear off. The pretty one is extremely gullible - I can wrap her round my little finger. I can see it now, prawns for breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper, not forgetting snacks between meals and my little treats for being good. I'm sure the menu will be far superior to the somewhat sparse rations he provides. I'll be able to sleep on the bed as well if I play my cards right - he gets a little touchy about this, especially if I come in after a bit of late night digging in the rain.What is the bad news then I hear you ask. Well, it's not that bad for me, but it could be traumatic for you lot. Now brace yourselves - you see, when he goes away he is going to take my computer with him, so I won't be able to share these rather eloquent missives with you. What, no Bert's Blog for a couple of weeks, I hear you cry. I know how distressed you must be. How will you get by? "I bet they're delighted not to have to read that rubbish for a fortnight." Who said that? It's my poncy brother, Tabby - I hate him I do really. Just wait until I get my paws on him. Yes, it's true, I will be off-line for the duration. Still, every cloud has a silver lining as they say. In recognition of my generosity in letting him take my computer, he gave me an extra handful of prawns. It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. "That's enough corny old cliches." I wish Tabby would shut up - he is a pain in the neck. Cliches indeed, I'm fed up to the back teeth with them.Well that's your lot for today, and the next couple of weeks in fact. Must be off, that poncy brother of mine is already ingratiating himself with the pretty one. I must make sure he doesn't get more prawns than me. I will be back around the end of the month. I just hope you can get by without me. "I expect we'll manage." Who said that? How rude! What a Life! AlbertThe(Off-line)Cat.

Bert's Nature Notes.

Well here we are again. After yesterday's extravaganza, something a little more mundane but very educational. I went for a gentle stroll round the estate this morning, and thought I would share with you some of my observations. As you know, I am a keen ornithologist and horticulturist - whatever they are! It is a very interesting time of year in the garden you know. All the little things that disappeared during the winter have started to come back. The first thing of interest I noticed was a small brown and red thing flitting amongst the flowers, first one of the year. A sight to behold - a thing of rare beauty. It nearly bought a tear to my eye. I think they are called flutterbies, or something like that. Great fun to chase, but not good eating, very little flavour I find. The one I don't trust gets very agitated when I charge through the flowerbed to get at them.The trees and bushes are turning green, in fact many are bejewelled with yellow, pink, blue and white blossom that cascades gently to the ground in the breeze, like delicate flakes of snow, forming a pristine carpet of wondrous colours. I soon changed that - it was all over my favourite digging spot would you believe! Looks like a mud heap now.

I was disturbed by the sound of buzzing, and upon investigation, I saw a bumble bee that had just roused itself from it's winter slumber. It was busy darting from flower to flower. What an industrious little creature I thought, a lesson to us all. Apparently they make honey - no idea how they do it, but you have to admire them. I've seen a pot of the stuff in the kitchen. How the little fellows can lift it I do not know, and as for screwing on the lid, well that's anybodies guess. Now a word of warning to you other cats. Do not chase bees! They can seriously damage your health. They get very angry and pack a real punch. In my experience, anything in nature with black and yellow stripes is bad news - leave well alone. Take the tiger for example, we haven't got too many round here, but you wouldn't want to bump into one down the back alley when out for a bit of late night ratting would you?The dawn chorus filled the still early morning air with a breathtaking cacophony of melodious sound. Dreadful din, gave me a headache! What do you mean I wasn't up at dawn - who said that? Anyway, I'm sure it would have sounded just like that if I was up. The birds were flying around carrying twigs and bits of grass to construct their nests. A couple of pigeons have started to build in a tree in my garden. Damn cheek - I'll have to get that shifted, I mean no self respecting cat has a birds nest in his back garden do they?

Watching all the activity made me feel quite tired, so I decided to go inside for a snack and a lie down. On the way I paused to look at some beautiful little flowers that had just appeared. I took a sniff of their fragrant perfume and immediately sneezed! Anemonem.., anemononem.., anemononons.., anemonononies.., grrrrrr..... little pink things, they are called. I was so annoyed at their silly name, that I swatted one and sat on three more. That'll teach them I thought.

Well that's your lot for today. I hope you have enjoyed the little nature lesson. I expect you have learnt a lot. As you can see, it is a very special time of year or us nature lovers. We all have a role to play in caring for our environment. It was only the other day as I was walking through the kitchen that I was reminded of my own carbon paw print. "What on earth has that cat been walking in" shouted the one I don't trust. What a life! AlbertThe(eco-friendly)Cat.

"Ask Bert" Yet Again - Even More Agony!

Hello once again, and welcome back after the Easter break. I trust you all had a nice time. I did - I had a really good kip, and feel fully refreshed and raring to go. I didn't know what to write about today so I have delved into my busy postbag. You'll all be delighted to know, that I am going to do another of my ever popular agony columns - "Ask Bert". This is where I offer advice to all you poor saps out there with personal problems who have written in seeking my wise and caring counsel. "Blimey, he's really scraping the barrel today!" Who said that, how rude! You will no doubt be aware that we have done this a couple of times before with excellent results. I don't beat about the bush. I am not afraid to give advice that no one wants to hear! So, without further ado, lets get stuck in.

Dear Bert - I am a well rounded cat, who enjoys the finer things in life. My staff look after me reasonably well, even if they are a little sparing with the fresh salmon. I really do not have a care in the world, but recently I have started to worry about my sleeping habits. I only sleep for 23 hours a day and think I may be suffering from insomnia. Please help. Your etc... Basil.

Dear Basil - Let me put your mind at rest. I have checked back through the records, and there are no known cases of a cat suffering from insomnia. Have you tried counting sheep? I tried counting prawns once, but it just made me hungry. Imagine sheep jumping over a fence.... one sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep, five sheep, six shee.... Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...... Where am I? What happened? I must have dropped off. I think you get my drift. Yours etc... Bert.

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Dear Bert - I am suffering from amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I may have forgotten this before. Please help. Yours etc..., name and address forgotten.

Dear whoever you are - How long have you had amnesia - probably for as long as you can remember. If I was you, I would try and forget all about it, in fact you may have done so already. There is little point in me giving you much more advice, as you will only forget it. Yours etc... Bert.

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Dear Bert - I am a snappy little Jack Russell, and I don’t usually talk to cats. However, I am being plagued by a big fat black and white one who lives next door to me. He sits on the wall, just out of my reach and hisses at me. The other day I got so angry that I went out into the road and chased someone on a bike. What should I do? Yours etc... Jack.

Dear Jack - Firstly, I am amazed that your owner lets you have a bike! Secondly, you should not insinuate that the black and white cat is fat. I suspect he is just well built. Treat the cat with respect. Perhaps if you left some of your delicious chicken pieces in the garden - next to the shed by the back wall would be good, then he may stop hissing at you. Yours etc... Bert.

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Dear Bert – I am a desperate cat who has written to you in strictest confidence twice previously. I followed your advice to the letter. Despite now being able to stand on my hind legs and pick up buns with my nose, I have failed to make the grade as an elephant. The circus owner has allowed me to stay on, but only if I keep the circus free from rodents. This brings me back to my original problem, which you diagnosed as musophobia - fear of mice. Yours etc... Name and address supplied.

Dear Anonymous - I think I recall our previous correspondence. It's you isn't it - George from Manchester. I can assure you that your identity is safe with me, as is your shameful secret. I believe you are incurable, but looking on the bright side, your predicament does at least give me the opportunity to tell my elephant joke. "What do you get if you cross an elephant with a cat? - Very nervous mice!" Ho Ho Ho. I expect you are laughing along with us and feeling better already. Yours etc... Bert.

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Dear Bert - Allow me to introduce myselves. I have a split personality. This makes life very complicated, especially at meal times. I eat all of my food, and there is none left for me. What should I do? Yours etc... Chip (and Dale).

Dear Chip (and Dale) - I think you need to shape up. The problem is all in the mind. If you came to see me, the first thing I would do is to bang your head together! You remind me of a pair of curtains - pull yourself together. Yours etc... Bert.

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Dear Bert - I have an unpleasant medical condition. My claws grow very quickly, and dig into my paws. This is bad enough, but to make matters worse, my staff take me to the vet on a regular basis to have them clipped. Is there a cure! Yours etc... Claude.

Dear Claude - I believe humans suffer from something similar called ingrown toenails - what ever that is. Let us hope it is nothing minor! I fear your condition may be hereditary. I had a friend once who had the same problem - he was told feet run in the family. Look on the bright side, I had another friend, and noses ran in his family. Yours etc... Bert.

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Well, that's my lot for today. You can only take so much of this stuff can't you. What a depressing postbag that was. Do you know, there was even a letter from a cat claiming to suffer from low self esteem - I had to tell him it was very common among losers! I'm going for a lie down. What a life! AlbertThe(compassionate)Cat.

One Born Every Minute!

I think I've just about recovered from yesterdays unfortunate incident with the curry. I didn't get up too early this morning, and by the time I went down for breakfast, Tabby and Ginger Tail were already out and about. I put on my best pitiful look and stared longingly at the pretty one. She immediately rushed to the fridge, and served up some prawns. I've still got the old magic I thought to myself. I carefully checked to make sure they were not poisoned with curry and then devoured them. They hardly touched the sides. Very nice I thought, wonder what's for main course.

Just as I was licking my lips, Tabby and Ginger Tail came charging in through the flap. "You'll never guess" said Tabby, "we've found a magic tree." "Yes" said Ginger Tail, "it's grown overnight in the garden over the back wall." What a load of rubbish I thought. "What's magic about it then?" I asked. "Prawns are growing on it" said Tabby, "there are big fat juicy prawns growing on it." Now, as you can imagine, I was a little sceptical, because we all know where prawns come from don't we - yes, that's right, the big white thing in the kitchen. "Little pink things have grown on the tree overnight" said Ginger Tail, "if you know the magic secret, they turn into prawns." "Little pink things? You stupid cat" I said, "they're buds, anyway how do you know the magic secret." "Wise Old Black Tom told us" she said confidently.

That changed everything, because Old Black Tom is a very clever cat - he knows absolutely everything. If he told them, it must be true. "What's the magic secret then." I asked. "Not telling," Ginger Tail replied. After much pleading, Tabby let me in on it. "What you have to do is walk round the tree three times, scratch the tree trunk as hard as you can for five minutes, jump into the flowerbed, roll in the tulips, and then sit outside the back door and mew as loud as you can with your eyes shut. When you open your eyes, the tree is covered in big juicy prawns."

So off I went. If I hadn't know better, I could have sworn I heard giggling as I left. I climbed over the wall, and sure enough, the tree was just as they said, covered in little pink things. Now, I've had a few run-ins with the woman over the back wall, I think she may be a witch - there is a broomstick propped up against the wall which is a bit of a giveaway. She has no sense of humour, in fact she took great umbrage when I started ferreting about in her roses. She was nowhere to be seen, so I started off by walking round the tree three times. I scratched the trunk for all I was worth, and dived headlong into the tulips - I flattened them! Now for the "piece de resistance" - I sat outside the back door and mewed at the top of my voice with my eyes firmly closed. When I opened them, what a sight greeted me - the witch was standing over me with a bucket of cold water which she then promptly chucked all over yours truly.I was off like a shot. As I went in through the flap, Tabby and Ginger Tail were rolling on the floor convulsed with laughter. "Is it raining?" enquired Tabby, "I thought the sun was out - how did you get on with her prize magnolia?" "Do you know what day it is?" asked Ginger Tail. "32nd March" I replied. "No" she said, "it's 1st April - your special day" "April fool" they cried in unison. Grrrrr... I hate them, I really do.

Well that's my lot for today. Do you know, in the rush to evacuate the woman's garden, I forgot to check out the magic tree to see how many prawns had appeared. Once the witch has calmed down, I will go and have a look - I don't want my stupid brother or my poncy sister stealing them. All that remains is for me to wish you all a pleasant Easter. I'm going to have a well earned rest. I will see you all next week. What a life! AlbertThe(gullible)Cat.

Variety is the Spice of Life....

Hello. I'm not feeling too good at all today. What a night I've had! I blame the housekeeping staff, and in particular the one I don't trust. If it wasn't for their slovenly habits I wouldn't be in this state. After supper last night I decided to go and do a bit of ratting - along with ornithology and horticulture, it is one of my favourite hobbies. I met up with Mad Harry and Slasher Sid, and we went to one of our chosen spots - the communal garbage bins round the back of a nearby apartment block. We didn't have much luck, but you should have seen the size of the one that got away!

After a couple of hours it started to rain so I decided to call it a night and wandered back home. I was feeling a bit peckish, and as everyone else had gone to bed I thought I would have a little look around to see if there was anything on offer. I was walking along the kitchen top by the sink and sure enough, there was a stack of dirty plates, pots, pans, etc. How bone idle I thought, they haven't bothered to do the washing up after supper. However, my contempt for their laziness was soon overcome by delight - I couldn't believe my eyes. Inside one of the pots were lots of really juicy prawns, although they were covered in a rather strange smelling sauce.Too good to be true I thought, and was about to sample one, when I heard Tabby come into the kitchen. "I wouldn't eat those if I were you" he said, "they won't do you any good." Surely he didn't think I would fall for that old trick. He's not having any I thought, he's just trying to curry favour. Quick as a flash, I scoffed the lot. "You haven't eaten them have you?" asked Tabby in amazement. He called to Ginger Tail, "he's only gone and eaten those prawns!" Ginger Tail came running over, and they both stood there and gawped at me. At this point I smelt a rat, which is more than I'd managed earlier. What do they know that I don't? "Guess what they had for supper last night" said Ginger Tail? "Big fat prawns," I replied. "Prawn curry!" said Ginger Tail. All of a sudden, this strange feeling came over me. My mouth was on fire, and I swear steam was coming out of my ears. Good job there was water in the sink - in my rush to swill the stuff down I very nearly fell in. Oh how they laughed. I've never drunk so much in my life. I spent the rest of the night drinking the garden puddles and digging in the flower beds if you get my drift.

Well that's my lot for today. I cannot understand how they can eat the stuff. Do you know, they pick up the phone and in about half an hour some bloke brings it round to the door. I heard him on the phone the other night. "Do you deliver?" he said. "No sir, we do chicken, lamb and prawn, but no liver" the bloke at the other end replied. Ho Ho Ho... What do you mean it's a rotten joke! In my delicate condition it is the best I can do. What a waste of perfectly good prawns. I reckon the one I don't trust left them by the sink on purpose to try and poison me. Still, wait until he sees what I've done to his flowerbed! What a life! AlbertThe(fire-breathing)Cat.

Seeing the Light....

Good news - you'll never guess what happened yesterday, and the day before! My breakfast prawns were served on time. Same again today. For the last six months or so, they have been exactly one hour late everyday. Hopefully, we can now put this outrage behind us and move on. I wonder why the housekeeping staff have been getting up an hour earlier?

I asked Tabby, my poncy brother if he knew anything about this strange phenomenon. He had no idea but suggested we see if Ginger Tail my stupid sister knew. What a daft idea I thought, there is no chance of her knowing, she is as thick as a plank. She took an IQ test once, and the results came back negative! "It's because the housekeeping staff went forward an hour in time" she said confidently. "What! They've invented time travel" I chuckled. See, I told you she was thick. Oh how me and Tabby laughed. This could be a rich source of amusement I thought. "Why did they do that then" I asked. "They think it gives them extra daylight" she replied. I told you this would be good! "How does that work then" I said. She thought for a minute - you can tell when she's thinking, a blank expression appears and her mouth drops open. After what seemed an eternity she said "well, 7am becomes 8am and 8am becomes 9am and 9am becomes.." "OK" I said, "I think we get your drift."It was all getting very confusing, when Tabby chipped in, "well what happens in the evening? Surely 7pm becomes 8pm and 8pm becomes 9pm and 9pm becomes.." "Enough" I cried "this is all getting too ridiculous for words, that would mean they get extra darkness in the morning, and part of today becomes tomorrow."At once I had spotted the flaw in her stupid idea. "That's right" said Ginger Tail, "they haven't worked that out yet - after all, they are not very bright are they." Have you ever heard such a cock and bull story. Ginger Tail went for a lie down in a dark room, to rest what she laughingly calls her brain. I don't think I will worry myself unduly, best just to be grateful that the prawns are back to normal. All this thinking has made my brain hurts as well. Think I will go for a nap. Perhaps my idea of time travel was nearer the mark after all. I'm surprised cats haven't invented it yet. Just think, I could have my breakfast, jump into my time machine, go back a bit and then have it all over again.

Well, that's my lot for today. Wise Old Black Tom, who knows everything, told me once that he could travel back in time. At first I didn't believe him, but he proved it to me. He said "today I will travel back in time - if I am successful, you will find that Wednesday will follow Tuesday and cats will rule the earth." You can't argue with facts like that can you. Finally, the reason the blog was missing yesterday is all this mucking about with time. "You do talk some rubbish" said Tabby, "I suppose you being asleep on the bed all afternoon had nothing to do with it!" I hate him, I really do. What a life! AlbertThe(confused)Cat.