Bumble and Jem

BumbleBumble is a cat on a mission.  His Dad, the author, Jem Vanston, has had the temerity to call him 'plumpity' when it is quite clear to all concerned, that he's just extremely fluffy.  His Dad has his own issues with being overly fluffy, too.  But Bumble has a cunning plan.  Never cross a cat or insult one because they never forget - ever!  

Read how Bumble plans to get his own back on his Dad - and the lengths he'll go to achieve the ultimate goal: a less plumpity Dad and maybe - grudgingly - a slightly less fluffy middle himself!

 

Fighting the Flab the Bumble Way

Bumble catching catnip toyLet me introduce myself. I is a cat called Bumble – and I is not fat, I is fluffy.

However, my two-legs dad Jem was told – by someone at ‘the place of smells’ (AKA the vet’s) – that I is overweight and I needs to go on a diet.

HOW DARE THEY! A certain level of plumpity is perfectly natural for a big-boned cat such as what I am myself, as it happens.

And what is more, I is needing the extra padding for insulation on cold rainy days where I lives. You wouldn’t want me for catch pneumoniatitis now, would you? I is six years of old – so I needs me padding!

My two-legs dad Jem is also trying to lose some of his padding, apparently. Though he seems to have as much plumpity as he always has – and he’s not even fluffy!

At least he understands that the first thing he should do early every morning is feed me and my sister Honey – but she is smaller than what I am, so she can wait. I should be first up for food! Because I is the fluffiest cat in this house. So it’s only fair really.

But some days, my dad tells me he needs a ‘cup of tea’ (whatever that is!) first, before he feeds me. Well, talk about incondiderative! And I thought dogs were rude and doolally!

Fortunately, my very loud miaow-miaow-miaowing means my dad usually gives up on that idea and feeds me first – which is only proper and right. It is what is known as MANNERS. Some two-legs don’t have them at all. ALL two-legs ALWAYS need regular reminding of the natural order of things. After all, we cats is the superior species. We should not have to wait. Ever!

By the way, my dad Jem always calls me ‘he’ even though I is clearly a she! He says it’s because I behaves in the way what a tom-cat does. Well, how would he know, as a two-legs? As all cats know, all two-legs know nothing about we cats, though they always seems to think they knows everything! Two-legs is so funny sometimes, they really is! A bit thick, but funny.

But anyway, he calls Honey a she – so if he calls me a he, at least he can tell us apart, he says. Though I is a fully black cat and my sister Honey is half-tabby and half-tortie, which is why she is such a diva, my dad says. I isn’t gonna tell you all the things he calls me!

Bumble eating

Back to the ‘diet’ which apparently me and my two-legs dad Jem is on now. Well, it means I no longer gets a big bowl full of biscuits to nibble at all night long. That means I is SO hungee in the morning, I’s gotta eat one whole pouch of food AT LEAST to recoverate from the starvation overnight – and sometimes two, which my dad says is my daily limit. Another reason why I is always to be fed first thing every morning!

My dad says he has given up bread and many other disgusting things two-legs eat, to lose some of the flabby weight he is carrying, but he still eats a lot – WAY more than I does! I is now watching him to see if he loses any weight.

Me, I is not fat, I is fluffy, as I has already told you.

So I gets round the ‘diet’ my dad has put me on – in my own cat genius ways, like what we all does.

Believe me: there is ways and means, for a feline.

There is always ways and means…

If you knows how, like.

Bumble and Dad, Jem Vanston

 

 

Bumble: Fighting the Flab - Part 2

Bumble eatingI is Bumble, and I is on a diet – apparently – on account of what my dad Jem calls my considerable plumpity.

Though, of course, I is not fat, I’m fluffy – like what I miaowed before.

Thing is, my dad is a two-legs – which means he is lacking somewhat in the superior species department, unlike what I is. He’s gone and reduced my rations, he says, so I eat less and lose weight. Well, that was his plan.

What my dad does not realise is that when he feeds me and my sister Honey Cat, she does not finish her whole saucer of food – ever! She always leaves half and walks away. She’s picky like that. DIVA ALERT! MOL!

Now, this is where I come in – coz I have already finished my own saucer of food and then I gets to eat half of Honey’s saucerful of food too – so I gets one and a half! My dad is so dim he thinks Honey has eaten all her saucer of food, then always wonders why she is so hungry later in the day – when he gives her biscuits.

See, there is always ways and means…for a feline. Especially with so many dim, doolally two-legs about.

My dad tells me he has lost some weight though – almost half a stone, whatever that means. He says it was because he was ill and not eating for four days (I has never knowed such a sad experience in all my cat days! Imagine – no food for four days!). And now he is better, he has started what he calls his ‘exercise regime’.

What this means is that three times a week he goes to a big puddle of water in a building somewhere, throws himself in and splashes around like what a fish does – YEUK! These two-legs are so doolally (maybe they’re a subspecies of dog?) I mean, what self-respecting cat would EVER – and I mean EVER – do such a silly and pointless thing?

We practises runnings and jumpings and catching mices, of course. That’s hunting practice and very useful, just in case. We’s got to keep the claws sharp and we’s gotta teach the kittens, if any happen to be passing, like. We is cats, after all!

But this is not called ‘an exercise regime’. This is called ‘being a cat’!

Bumble asleepMy dad Jem keeping on saying that I lies around too much, dozing, sleeping, lying on my back in an armchair. But I always tells him “I’s a cat! That is what we does!” – if I don’t get my sixteen hours’ sleep a day I’s useless – unable to function feline-wise.

Now THAT is my ‘exercise regime’ – sleeping. For which I prepare by eating, and then washing. All purrrfect cat logic – though I don’t expect two-legs to understand.

So anyway, my dad says he has lost some flab (whatever that is) and hopes to lose more by ‘going swimming’ three times a week, as well as reducing what he eats and giving up bread (a disgusting two-legs food only fit for such inferior species).

I shall watch him – closely – and take mental notes. From where I lie on my back on the armchair – which is well comfy, I can tell you.

Now then, methinks it’s time for a snack. If I miaow loudly enough my dad will give me some treats, I know – he says he won’t, but then he always does. I miaows and miaows and miaows again right in his hearhole, y’know, when he’s trying to watch the light-box! And won’t stop till he feeds me.

I watches the light-box too when tweety birds are on – but otherwise, I leave staring at it to doolally two-legs.

I’s also gonna tell my dad that there is no need for me to be on a diet because I’s not fat, I’s just fluffy – which will come out as something like:

MIAOW-WOW-WOW-YOW-WOW-MIAOW-MIIIAAAAOOOWWW!!!!!

Not that my dad ever listens to me…

Right, time for a snack. Gotta keep the energy levels up. I’s still got eight hours of sleep to get in today and I intend to sleep for not a moment less! As is my right, as a member of the most noble and superior feline species.

Oh, I loves being a cat. I really does! I really really loves being a cat!

Miaow, all!

Bumble and Dad, Jem Vanston

A Cats Purr

"Cats make one of the most satisfying sounds in the world: they purr ...

A purring cat is a form of high praise, like a gold star on a test paper. It is reinforcement of something we would all like to believe about ourselves - that we are nice."

Roger A Caras

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