Well, I'm a bit sanguine like my moby-owner, so I might give you a short (!!!) biography.
Born in Y2K, a privileged generation, really, up on the Comboyne Plateau, land of the best milkers in NSW.
At about eight weeks of age, this strange man came to choose a kitten. I could tell at once that this was one soft human, cat-wise, so I very quickly chose him, and made my intentions known that he would be my human. An intelligent man, he responded quickly, and I was soon on my way to my new home.
The box was easy enough to escape from, and after a few minutes I was busily navigating, from his lap, our way home through the australian bush. A quick two hour drive - nothing hard... Until we stopped at another dairy farm to pick up another cat.
They called him Moomoo, and he was the 'kitty kat' girl's personal property. A bit of a weekling, really, with a heart murmur. He was a pushover, as I was twice his size. However, the missus of the family took him to work with her - bottle feeding him no less, as she reckoned he didn't lap yet. Hmmph. Apparently he was a good drawcard for the customers. He told me one night she used to put him on her shoulder, or in her over-large pocket and he even confessed he didn't mind being stuffed down girls' jumpers in the colder weather!
We got to be good friends, Moomoo and I, even going to the Doctors together to be 'fixed'. What was wrong with us, I will never know, but, anyway, fixed we were.
Poor Moomoo, I shall miss him. Not long after we were 'fixed', he walked out of the house, never to be seen again. Did the cat-hating, baby kangaroo raising, bird keeping neighbour get him, or was it a snake? I will never know...
Well, in due time, miss 'kittykat' had to have another cat, and home came this funny looking girl with a slit on her belly (all stitched up, of course,) longer than my arm. Said they called her miss daisy at the Home for Wayward Queens, and that they had just seen to her last litter of kittens. We called her princess.But I'll let her tell her story, can't steal her thunder, can we now?
Life was good, and I even found I had a pet boy, as well. That's the photo you'll see sometimes on this blog, but I might change it sometime... Unfortunately I am stuffed in his jumper. But I let him get away with it as he sometimes sleeps in my single bed with me in the back bedroom to keep me warm. I even share my pillow with him. As long as he tucks me in properly.
How did we get to NZ? We flew, of course. We had a large carrier, lots of jabs and shots at the doctors, and frozen water in the bowls so we could drink as it defrosted. Unfortunately, they all got their jabs and shots days wrong, and we had to spend a night in Sydney before we finally got off the ground.
When we got out of the plane again, we were taken to the most beautiful place on earth - the farm. Of course, it took a couple of weeks to make our escape plans, and just when everything was settled they let us out! Miss KittyKat girl was there, too, apparently we were all supposed to go on the same day.
When we got out, we were on a lead, no less. Normally I just lay down when leashed, it's my way of showing thorough disguts, but this time I was eager to survey my new kingdom. Not bad, even had little bunnies on supply. So much better than the river rats of Taree.
Well, we moved from the farm, into town, and now there are only occasional bunnies, with funny little black pellets in them. Apparently there was a family of bunnies just outside the house, on the farm, and I am sure if I had been there I would have had them under control.
We have had stray moochers on the property, and Miss Kittykat has even been sucked into adopting a few.
There was one they called Brownie, all chocolate brown with the most awful yowl. Apparently like a Siamese, whatever that may be. She was so dark they had to put a yellow safety collar on her so they weren't always treading on her. I hated the way she sucked up to the missus, jumping onto her shoulder from the ground, and snuggling up like a baby, but I didn't hate her enough to be glad when she got run over and had to be put down. Maybe If I'd let her share our garage (my other bedroom) she would still be here, but she was long in the tooth. Literally. Must have been over twelve, by my reckoning.
The next adoptee is that woosy Blondie. I always have a go at him just to show who's boss. Occasionally I hear the missus call 'bad cat' and I'm off to wack him a bit more. He's asked for a turn at the computer, I shall have to see about that.
And then miss Kittykat had the hide to find a stray cat who then abandoned her kittens, and what does she do? Brings two of the little blighters home, no less. And the missus bottle feeds them. At least they were quick on the kitty litter training. Well, all three of them - Miss Kittykat plus kittens - have moved out, so there, back to only three cats in the yard, life used to be so hard....
Now, I know I am only a cat, but I shall try to put in a picture of a cat (or two) and that will be enough for me, I have to go talk to someone about a bit more food and maybe a groom...
There. Geekboy (as the missus calls him) was home for his weekly din-dins. (How he survives on just one feed a week I will never know.) He's a sucker for a sweet smoochy puddy-Kat. Yeck. Anyway, he showed me how to insert photos... It was easy once I figured how to right click with my puddy-kat paw. On the left we have me keeping Blondie firmly in his place, which isn't always a flower-pot, and on the right is Brownie...
Other related posts:
That Boring old Fluff...
Add a comment
Please note: comments that are inappropriate or promotional in nature will be deleted.
E-mail addresses are not displayed, but you must enter a valid e-mail address to confirm your comments.
Are you a registered Geekzone user? Login to have the fields below automatically filled in for you and to enable links in comments. If you have (or qualify to have) a Geekzone Blog then your comment will be automatically confirmed and placed in the moderation queue for the blog owner's approval.