Hump day

I’ve heard Hump Day is here again. WooHoo. When I was a kitty I used to think it was named after me. A special day for me. I thought that was fair enough, but I’ve since learned that it comes around once a week. Every Wednesday. The hump of the week. Get it? ‘Once you’re through Wednesday, you just slide to the weekend’, she prattles on to herself. It doesn’t affect me, every day is the same around here. But Hump Day it is today so I thought I may as well squeak.

I’ve got quite a lot to tell you. Should I start with the weather? You all seem to. But seriously, that rain just goes on and on and all my favourite outdoor sleeping pads are ruined. It’s even made my hidey-hole under the long grass sodden. I’d made myself a sort of maimai or biv-wack, or bivvy-ac thingy – I’m not much good with spelling. And I could hide in there for hours. Mostly sleeping, but you never know what might come along. I love creepy-crawlies. Such fun. But I usually nod off. Anyway, that’s all wet. Bother.

I’ve taken to coming inside a bit more, and once I discovered the pink mohair I just want to sleep there all the time. I have to be a bit sneaky though. The bedroom has got two doors so when she goes out one door, I sneak in the other, then I hop up on the bed and I’m in kneading Heaven. I push and pull on the fluffy pink blanky and all these fluffy strands lift off and tickle my nose. I just love it. Then I curl up and it is like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and cosy.

She used to yell at me to get off. I hate it when she claps her hands loudly. It scares me and I shoot through. But since I got something in my eye (it was a piece of mohair fibre but I didn’t tell her that; she was ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ over me for days, and rinsing my eye and giving me extra cuddles) she’s let me stay on it. I just stare her in the eyes, like, ‘I’ve got a right to be here, remember’ and she tut-tuts and goes off to another room. What a good score! Pulling a sicky really paid off. Have you ever tried it?

We’ve had a few games of hide-and-seek lately, but to be honest, it’s not my favourite (I prefer hide-the-mousie). We sort of run around the house chasing each other, and she tries to get away from me but my hearing is sharp and I can hear everything. I hate it when it goes quiet, and sometimes then, I feel a bit lost. I wander around and I just can’t find her. Everywhere smells of her so that’s no help. And, just between you and me, I get a bit lonely. I just want the game to end, and sometimes, well, I cry, like I did when I was a kitty. I know, I know, what a baby just wanting mummy, but it’s just a minor regression back to kittyhood. Then POOOFFF just like that she jumps out of the wardrobe. It scares the life out of me and she laughs her head off. It’s the only time I don’t like her. Oh well, actually, I am going to tell you something, if you’ll keep it a secret … she talks to me even when I am not there. Now what do you make of that. Is she talking to the radio? To her glass of wine and nibble-dish of salted peanuts? She’s just talking, and I’m not even there. Crazy isn’t it. The question is, is she talking to someone I can’t see and only she can, or just herself? I don’t think it’s me going silly.

While I’m on a roll, you know, feeling a little bit snaky because I’ve ‘fessed up about blubbing when we play the hide-from-Humpf game …

Once, she was sitting on a chair and I jumped up and bit her botty. HA HA!!! She jumped up like she had a spider in her pants. What fun. Miao Miao. I could tell you lots more, but I don’t want my biccies rationed if she finds out I’ve blabbed. All I wanted was my afternoon tea which she seemed to have forgotten about. And I got it, so … I know what to do in the future. 

Hide the mousie is much better. She throws it around the house and puts it under mats and I pretend I don’t see, then I dig it out from under the mat, roll on my back and throw it in the air. It fills in time. Then I can have a snore-off without feeling guilty (you know, done my daily exercise!).

Real mousies are way better of course. I’ve caught lots of them lately. April and May was Mouse-Fest. Glorious fun! There were plenty to go around and we were all catching them. And I’ve just caught one this morning and brought it in to show her, though she’s not so interested these days. But I think I deserve at least some extra biccies …

Talking of biccies, I got told off big-time for scratching open the bag of biccies in the laundry. I had an absolute feast, stuffed myself so full so I could hardly wobble off outside. Self-service? Amazing idea. 

Well I’ve enjoyed talking about me but I’ve got to go and do my rounds now, you know, pick up my messages from the lamp posts, then have a decent lie-down somewhere quiet. All this chatter makes me tired. So miao-miao and ciao-ciao for now and I will report in when I feel like it.