It’s been a while since this blog’s owner actually wrote anything, so when I heard that she was coming to look after me for a month, I figured she wouldn’t notice if I took over her page and used this world wide web thing to tell folk what it’s really like to live with such a contrary and changeable human being. Us cats have a reputation for being lazy, idle and quite selfish animals but, let me tell you, compared to you lot we’re pretty amazing, focused and driven creatures.
My name is Louise Jones and I live in a very nice house in a smart village called Oxton, on the Wirral. Many make the mistake of thinking Oxton is “in” Birkenhead but this is quite offensive to me. Look, we have proper old village ‘shoppes’, an antique red postbox, a real ale store, narrow roads and leafy lanes, plus our very own Gastropub. I think there’s even a branch of the Freemasons behind the post office, plus the charity shop here is so posh it sells clothing for more than it costs to buy new.
Even though Oxton is technically in Merseyside, I like to think of myself as a proper Cheshire Cat – we have a CH postcode after all. I like to have fun, when it suits me, and my fellow felines think I’m a riot. We meet up most nights at our club, Cabal Cats, in a disused shed off Claughton Firs, where I’m usually the life and soul – ask anyone. In fact, it’s fair to say I’m a born leader and was probably Elsa the Lion in a previous life. My garden is the envy of the other cats and I choose who can come and play here. I prefer my owners/sitters to be outside with me so I can show off my bum-licking skills but, surprisingly, they always seem to disappear back inside when I start doing this.
So that’s a little about me. At the moment I’m just chilling by the flower pots while my gardener makes the lawn and beds more playable. I’m expecting a few friends over later so everything has to be just ‘so’. My sitter, Sarah, has just got back from a walk and seems to be in a much better mood than she was when I asked for my breakfast this morning. Honestly, it’s like she thinks 5am is the middle of the night or something! Weird.
We’ll probably get on OK while she’s here – she’s sat for me a few times and the only real drama we’ve had was when she came home drunk one night and miscounted my Dreamies – 8 instead of 10! Well she won’t be making that mistake again, that’s for sure! And from what I heard of the conversations she was having with my owners, she’s not planning to get drunk at all while she’s here – something about “getting back on the wagon”. I’m not sure what that means, but it could be related to the screams I heard coming from the bathroom this morning when she stepped on the square black thing on the floor and, a few seconds later, began shouting “HOW MUCH?!” followed by lots of crying and words I didn’t understand.
So we’ll see how we go, but I’ve already made tentative enquiries with Bert, the tabby a few roads down, who has a spare catflap should my sitter continue to display such erratic and, frankly, quite worrying behaviour. Watch this space (or not..)!