Friday, 26 August 2016

It's WHAT Day?

It's Friday - the day Carlton takes over my blog. Views are his own and not necessarily, in fact, rarely, shared by the blog owner.

 
International Cat/Dog Day

by Carlton Cat

I AM reliably informed that today is International Dog Day.

Dog Day, I ask you. I am shocked and disgusted. Why do dogs need a day of their own? Although, thinking about it, they do have their uses:





They are very good at keeping you warm...


...especially if there are two of them.


Oh, and they make good pillows.


They are sometimes good listeners and let you whisper in their ear.


You can have a laugh with some of them - play a game or two.


Even so, let's face it. They are not very bright.  GUESS WHO!


So I guess it's OK to have International Dog Day, just as long as you don't forget it's INTERNATIONAL CAT DAY on (hang on, just let me look it up)...the 8th of August.

WHAT! The 8th of August? No one told me. Hey, you lot, I'm owed LOTS OF PRESENTS. Where are my International Cat Day treats and toys? I got NOTHING. Not a card, box or woolly mouse. It's OK - it's not too late because in my house it's ALWAYS Cat Day.




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Monday, 22 August 2016

Purrfect Lives


IT looks like pet cats and dogs across Britain are living blissful lives. It has been discovered that over 50% of them end up sharing their owners' comfortable beds.

The fact has been revealed via a research which was undertaken by Gala Bingo, which showed that another 49% of pet owners would much rather sit on the floor themselves than force their pets off the sofa or bed.

In addition, a further nine-tenths of pet parents would prefer to save their cats or dogs in the face of a tragedy before they turn to any material possessions.

"I've been a vet for 14 years and am still amazed at some of the things people do for their pets as we really are a nation absolutely dedicated to them," said Joe Inglis, who works in conjunction with Gala Bingo.

Some people, it has been seen, tend to take the whole thing a bit too far. 12% of pet owners actually said that they like to dress up their pets in human-style clothes. Now that's a step too far!



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    Sunday, 21 August 2016

    Sunday Selfie



    Here I am in my Sunday Selfie for the Blog Hop. I hope the Mr and Mrs don't ignore me 'cos I'm sooo cute, aren't I?

    This is my very first Blog Hop so I hope I've done it right!





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    Friday, 19 August 2016

    The Five Second Rule

     
    It's Friday - the day Carlton takes over my blog. Views are his own and not necessarily, in fact, rarely, shared by the blog owner.

    The Five Second Rule

    by Carlton Cat

    THE Mr dropped half a sausage roll on the floor, swooped down, picked it up and ate it. I didn't see anything wrong with that but the Mrs went ballistic.

    "That's disgusting!" she screamed. "What about all those germs! You'll make yourself ill!" On and on she ranted while the Mr calmly carried on eating.

    Then she said: "Yuk! Carlton's been walking over that floor."

    My ears pricked up. Yuk? What do you mean, 'yuk'? I'll have you know I spent ten minutes this morning cleaning my paws. You could eat off my paws. My paws are cleaner than a sterilised piccalilli pickle jar.

    The Mr smiled. Wiped his hands down the side of his trousers and said: "Don't worry. I kept to the five second rule."

    "Which is….?" she asked.

    "If you drop something on the floor and pick it up within five seconds it's safe to eat. No bacteria. None. Zilch."

    "That is patently ridiculous," the Mrs replied. "If you get botulism and die a horrible death, rolling around in agony, it'll be your own fault." With that she filled a bucket with water and what looked like a gallon of disinfectant and got the mop.

    "Horse. Bolted." said Mr, a comment which only made the Mrs go redder and start scrubbing the floor as if she were expecting a visit from half a dozen crawling fragile babies.

    The Mr booted up the computer and found this:


    He showed it to the Mrs. She was not impressed. My paws, clean as they are, are now over my ears.



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    Wednesday, 17 August 2016

    Clever Cat Owners


    TELL us something we DON'T know!

    Research has come up with the fact that people with cats are likely to be more intelligent than dog owners.

    However,researchers at the University of Bristol in the UK say that the superior intelligence of cat owners is unlikely to be caused by their exposure to their clever and manipulative pets.

    It's just that more educated people tend to work longer hours and choose a pet to fit their lifestyles. Unlike dogs, cats require no walking and can manage with little human company.

    Dr Jane Murray, Cats Protection Lecturer in Feline Epidemiology, who led the study, said: "We don't think it is associated with income because that was one of the variables we looked at, and there was little difference.

    "Cats require less time per day than a dog, so they are more popular with educated people who work late and have long commutes."

    Homes with degree-holders were 1.36 times more likely to have a cat than other households. The same homes were less likely to have a dog than households where no-one went to university.

    The study, published in the Veterinary Record journal, also found that cat owners were more likely to be older and female. Both cat and dog owners were more likely than the general population to live in households with gardens in rural areas.

    The popular myth of cat intelligence was dented last year with the publication of a study showing that they did worse than dogs at a simple reasoning task. Cats presented with two pieces of string, only one of which was attached to a food reward, could not tell which one to pull for their treat.

    The picture above is from Margaret Sherry's Cross Stitch Gallery.



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    Friday, 12 August 2016

    Cats and Doors: Lessons for Kittens


    It's Friday - the day Carlton takes over my blog. Views are his own and not necessarily, in fact, rarely, shared by the blog owner.

    Cats and Doors: Lessons for Kittens

    by Carlton Cat


    GOOD morning, pupils. Today I am going to teach you kittens how to behave around doors.

    You are young and at your stage of life probably think doors are only ever opened by your pet human. This is true…up to a point. One of the first skills you need to learn is how to get your pet human to open the door on command.

    After all, you don't want to lose your dignity like the young chap below, do you?

     

    Often all that is required is sitting in front of the door and meowing in your most annoying tone of voice. The times I've heard the words, "For goodness sake, Carlton, go outside if you're going to make that racket," before the door is flung open. 

    Sometimes your pet human is on the opposite side of the door in a room you want to enter. The "annoying meow" tactic may work here too. Sometimes, though, they pretend they can't hear you. In which case you have to proceed to Stage Two. Start scratching the door. For some reason pet humans hate this and will rush to open the door before you have done more than make a few marks on it.


    Other useful tactics include jumping up at the door handle, rubbing your hind feet on the floor as if you need a "comfort break" and sitting an inch from the door and glaring at it.

    If the worst comes to the worst and your pet humans are so terminally stupid they don't understand what you want (or if you are Home Alone), you can always open the door yourself. This is tricky and will require practice but it's not impossible.


    Now pay attention, class. This last module is the most important part of my lesson plan.

    If your pet human has gone to a lot of trouble to open the door for you - maybe they were in the middle of a phone call, busy doing chores or engrossed in a TV show - it is imperative that as soon as the door is open you turn around and go back into the room.  You can, if you wish, stand or sit in the open doorway and stare out for quite considerable time while they wait (usually impatiently). However, the end result is the same. You end up back where you started from.




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    Friday, 5 August 2016

    Home Alone


    It's Friday - the day Carlton takes over my blog. Views are his own and not necessarily, in fact, rarely, shared by the blog owner.

    Home Alone

    by Carlton Cat

    I AM pissed off; well and truly pissed off. The Mr and Mrs have been on holiday and, like some feline Macauley Culkin, left me Home Alone. Yes, ALONE!

    Well, nearly alone. Their two nieces have taken it in turns to pop in regularly to make sure I am fed, watered and unkidnapped. They have checked I haven't been sold to a ginger-slave trader and forced to sleep in a cold and cheerless attic, eat cheap supermarket own brand slop and made to keep down the mice population of a small town.

    Admittedly, one or other of them has stayed the night so in fact I have had more company than I do when the Mr and Mrs are both working. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT.

    How could they so callously abandon me to my fate?
    Picture: Morguefile.com

    The two girls were fine in their own way but they don't know me as well as the Mr and Mrs do so were neglectful in certain areas. I tried to show my displeasure by sitting on top of the bookcase and giving Girl 1 the evil eye. She didn't even notice and I couldn't stay up there long as a cat's gotta eat and she had just filled my bowl with tuna chunks.

    I surprised Girl 2 with the "gift" of a mouse but all she did was scream like… well, like a girl, and got out the rubber gloves to dispose of it.

    Neither of them knew even the most basic cat care. Can you believe it, they didn't even know how to rub ears properly. I KNOW! Astonishing in this day and age.

    In fact my ears were badly neglected receiving only a cursory stroke as the hand travelled from head to tail. They have not mastered the art of stretching out on the sofa so I can sit on their legs. In fact, not once did either of them put their feet up.
     *shakes head in bewilderment*

    Both of them shut the bedroom against me, leaving me outside to make my displeasure known vociferously until they opened it and I stalked in with my tail held high to take my rightful place on the duvet.

    Amateurs, the pair of them.

    Anyway, the Mr and Mrs are back now. They tried to make an almighty great fuss of me but I was having none of it. I gave them my most disdainful look and stalked off to sleep in the garden. They brought me lots of presents so when I felt I had punished them for long enough, I came back in to rip off paper, chew treats and play with feathery things.

    The Mrs is now singing as loudly and tunelessly as ever in the kitchen and the Mr is stretched out on the sofa with the TV remote welded to his hand and me trapping his legs.

    At last, normal service is resumed.




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    Friday, 17 June 2016

    How To Be Top Cat

    It's Friday - the day Carlton takes over my blog. Views are his own and not necessarily, in fact, rarely, shared by the blog owner.

    How To Be Top Cat

    by Carlton Cat


    THE Mr and Mrs have been really busy lately, attending to family matters and working full-time, so they have not lavished as much attention on me as they usually do.

    When I adopted them I knew I would have to take the rough with the smooth. I could, if wanted, get up from the comfy bed, side-step the tuna chunks and exit through the cat flap to find pastures new. But I have invested so much time in training these two that I don't think I can be bothered starting from scratch with another *pet.

    *slave

    Anyway, when I was a young cat-about-town I disappeared for a couple of days, I came back to find posters put up all over the area saying, "Have you seen this cat?" I wouldn't have minded but the photo they used of me didn't even feature my best side. And, really, did they have to tell everybody that I had a small bald patch on my tummy? Totally humiliating. Honestly, you can't trust them to do anything right.

    At least they didn't put up a poster like the one below. I like the sound of Ms Cranky Pants, though. I wonder if I can wangle a meeting?

    When the *pets are in the house, I try not to leave them alone for too long as they are prone to  bad behaviour, like drinking too much beer and wine, watching too much TV, reading books and talking on the phone for hours to their friends and family. I have to nip this mischief in the bud by crawling all over them, demanding attention and keeping them busy with things like removing a half-chewed mouse from under the sofa.

    *slaves

    I also keep them busy by walking over the fresh laundry with muddy feet, hiding vital accessories like car keys and shedding hair over their furniture, clothes and pillows.

    Despite all these measures, the pets still sometimes misbehave so you have to discipline them. Firm but fair, is my motto. One method is lie enticingly on the sofa with your stomach exposed, begging for a rub. Let them tickle you for a short while and then GRAB! While they are screaming, say YOU. WILL. NEVER. GIVE. ME. CHEAP. OFFAL. CHUNKS. IN. JELLY. AGAIN. Sadly, humans are not the most intelligent species on the planet and this tactic may or may not work. Frankly, I don't care, I just like doing it.

    A word to my fellow felines, these are tried and trusted methods to get you back on top spot as numero uno in their life.







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    Friday, 3 June 2016

    Toy Story





     
    Toy Story

    by Carlton Cat

    I TRY to look cool when the Mr and Mrs present me with a new toy - but I'm excited inside.  I love nothing better than chasing a tinkling ball or shredding ribbons and chewing on tassels. When they are out - to be honest, I'm usually asleep -  but when I am not you can often find me digging out one of my toys and having what the Mr and Mrs call "a funny five minutes". 

    The other day the they were having a big tidy-up. The Mr looked worried as he always does when someone called The In-Laws are due to visit. I think Mrs In-Law worries him a bit. 

    They were gathering my toys together into a cardboard box and I heard the Mrs say to Mr: "What on earth does he do with all those toys we buy him?" 

    She tilted the box and few furry mice and a half-chewed cardboard bird rolled to one side. She shrugged and carried on with the housework. I closed my eyes and started to dream about real mice and birds.

    Suddenly my pleasant reverie was broken by a yell.

    "CARLTON!" 

    What was wrong? I thought I'd better go and see so I strolled into the living room… and this is very similar to what I saw. The Mrs didn't have her camera ready (unusual; she's usually got it practically stuck up my nose) so she found this on the internet to show The In-Laws. They laughed. I really don't know why.









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    Friday, 27 May 2016

    Climbing Trees

     

    Tree-mendous
    by Carlton Cat

    What can I say? I like to climb trees. High up in the branches I have a good vantage point of the surrounding area. I can see the undergrowth shaking if there is a little creature scuttling in it. I can pounce if I feel like it although usually I can't be bothered.  I can sharpen my claws on the trunk. I can look starlings in the eye and laugh at their frightened screeches as they fly away, grumbling about why a cat is on their perch.

    I am a brilliant climber. Unfortunately, I am not always a brilliant getting-downer.

    So it was that yesterday I was surveying my kingdom from the top of a magnificent oak tree. I had soothed an itch by rubbing my back on the rough bark. I had honed my claws to perfection. I had frightened four starlings, three sparrows, a blackbird and a cluster of bluetits. All in all a good hour's work.

    I began to get sleepy and knew I mustn't drop off on the branch or I would, well - drop off.

    I stepped onto the branch below - so far so good - and then onto the one below that. That's when the trouble started. I heard a long crack followed by a short sharp one and the whole branch sheared away. Oh Lord. I don't mind admitting I was a tad concerned. The next available stepping place seemed an awfully long way away.

    I meowed. Nothing.

    What were the Mr and Mrs doing? Why weren't they concerned about the whereabouts of their most treasured possession? ME!

    Long story short. They EVENTUALLY  realised I was missing. The Mr got a ladder out of the shed and just as he gingerly reached the top of it I had the brilliant idea of stepping sideways and then down and I nimbly shimmied swiftly to the ground.

    Honestly! What language - tut, tut, tut! The Mrs made a big fuss of me and I could see she was trying not to laugh at the Mr. He put the ladder away and stalked indoors. Discretion being the better part of valour, I took myself off to the spare bedroom to sleep off the trials of my day.

    I think the Mr has forgiven me now.

    That's all folks,

    Carlton.







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