Morning begins with ‘kitchen-escort’ duties. This is very important but the gravitas of the situation is lost on my new human who just lies in bed snoring with that uninspiring lump of grey fluff: Dumpty Roo.

From about 3.00am daily I will paddle into the bedroom, open my mouth really wide to miaow, not that anything comes out, but I have made the point. Then I waddle back towards the kitchen in the hope that the human has got the hint that I need feeding.

I carry out this routine until 7.00am till the human wakes up and meanders into the kitchen to open a sachet of cheap-crap tigers, which I love, slop it onto a plate and tell me some rubbish about ridding the world of tigers before I’m allowed to get stuck in. By this time Willi the Wuff has sloped into the kitchen to chance his paw. He sits patiently whilst I slurp and gobble up the bits of vein and sinews in the cheap-crap tiger pouch before he can partake. If greed overcomes him and he slowly tries to muscle in, he is assured of a swift clout, claws fully extended, on his big ginger nose. I need to be fed constantly throughout the day; my human cannot believe how I manage to pack so much away when Dumpty eats less than a worm would. But then all the overblown grey fluffikins of a bimbo does lie on the bed all day whilst I paddle round constantly active, patrolling the kitchen is search of sustenance. She must burn up less than one calorie a week for all the movement we see in her.

I have to be bathed. Due to my many disabilities, I sometimes wear on my bottom what should have been buried. I quite like being bathed, but hate being groomed. Grooming is open season to bite humans!!

I know when I’m about to have a bath as my human rather unkindly refers to me as Miss Stinky. Whilst there may be some truth in the accusation, I am quite capable of giving my bottom a good lick and pick over when left to my own devices. Although this may not be on the top of my list of priorities for the day, my human will remind me with ‘bottie-checkies’ whereby I am picked up and hurled on my back whilst my nether regions are inspected.  I do intend to get round to bottie-hygiene sometime. But sometime, in the future, never, doesn’t appeal to my human and without warning I am lobbed into the bath, usually into bath water which she has just vacated, to have a bath.

I am in two minds about baths; cats and water don’t mix, but I do smell rather wonderful afterwards!! She usually has some nice smelling stuff which she rubs into my fur and it all foams up. Then I’m swooshed up and down in the bath to rinse it off. Cuddling in warm towels in quite a nice feeling but I’m not too sure about the hair dryer which  woofs warm air up my bottom and girlie bits and I look like a big fluffy pom-pom when my human has finished with me!!

Willi’s version:

I am taking my carer duties very seriously. I have never known a cat that has so many disabilities. I also have never know a cat so flippin’ ungrateful when I try to care for her! She will growl or spit at me, she obviously doesn’t realisejust how much she needs her own health care assistant and I will persist

I’m absolutely fascinated by her, I can’t keep my eyes off her as she wobbles and falls over. She never seems to hurt herself, but she never stops paddling round - especially at night when she goes back and forth into the human’s bedroom. She then opens her mouth really wide to meow, but nothing comes out. Then she paddles back into the kitchen.

She does this all night till the human gets up and feeds her. It’s just fascinating to watch! Quite a cabaret which fills the long hours of night time!

 

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