The Tibbster Report

Mr Tibbs Marcus Antonius Tibbs is a semi-famous writer and cat-film critic with his own film festival on Twitter. #MTIFF (Mr. Tibbs International Film Festival).  The notably, hefty, black panfur has two passions - he loves to flirt with all the felines.  One, in particular, has captured his heart, the lovely Cleopatra. (For whom he adopted the Christian names.)  They are engaged and plan to marry in 2020.  The ceremony is shaping up to be ‘The Wedding of The Century’.  Their romance has been chronicled in the book ‘Loving The View’ (available on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/1773707256/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_U_x_CCLqCbV7ZQS31 ) and penned by the lovesick fool, himself.  

His second passion is writing!  Tibbs loves to entertain through the written word.  He regularly shares movie reviews and stories for his blog:  https://thejoyofcats.wordpress.com and has embarked on a new venture called, ‘The Tibbster Report’ for The Daily Mews.

 

Chapter 1

 

"Bah Humbug!"

It's the Christmas season and for the last few weeks, Louis, my hare-brained agent, has had me working my claws to the bone writing 100 reviews before the big day. He insists that if I do not complete this task, he will cancel Christmas and I shall NOT be whisked off to Hollywood to become a rich and famous film critic.

Needless to say, this has thrown me into a tizzy. "You can't cancel Christmas!" I informed the orange-treat munching, Tomcat, 48 hours before the big day.

"I can, Fat Boy! I gave you a choice . . . You opted not to do as I asked, now you and everyone else must suffer the consequences."

 

I had failed to live up to the contract. Bah Humbug! All of a sudden, Christmas had become the worse time of the year. I let my fans down, I let myself down but worst of all . . . I had let my Cleo down. Maybe, I had to reconsider this whole wedding thing!

Walking home in the cold and snow left me weary and chilled. I ran into my pal Basil. He saw my grumpy demeanour and asked, "What's the matter, Tibby?"

"I'm thinking about cancelling the wedding." I told him.

"Oh, Buddy, you can't do that. You love Cleo far too much." Basil is the kindest soul on this earth.

"I don't want to, but I might have to." I uttered dejectedly.

"You'll find a way out of your dilemma; I know you will. I have some last-minute Christmas shopping to do. I've saved the best for last . . . got to get a special gift for my girl. Any suggestions?"

"A slap-up meal, is always a good choice." My belly rumbled at the thoughts.

"A brilliant idea! Meowy Christmas, Tibbs!" He patted me on the back and off he went.

I did not have the heart to tell him Christmas was going to be cancelled as well. And all because of me. So, I continued on my way and the amount of good cheer sent in my direction began to annoy me. If another cat on the streets, meowed 'Meowy Christmas' at me, I intended to swat at them, and snap a resounding, 'Bah Humbug!'

Chapter 2

Christmas Eve found me up late, slaving away at another review. What else did I have to do? Louis wanted his 100 reviews and I had to keep going. Then, without warning, the power went out! Being the brave kitty that I am, I huddled by the candlelight hoping for some warmth and courage and enough light to continue writing.

Whenever things go awry, my first instinct is to run but I still had 93 reviews to crank out. I could not let the eerie atmosphere deter me from my job. My scribbling was interrupted when, to my surprise, I heard the distinct sound of a collar bell.

This was strange as no cat, in the house, wore a collar. I leapt up and peeked my head around the doorframe! No one was there. My fur began to stand on end and my tail puffed up to three times its size.

I went back to writing but closed my eyes for only a second. Suddenly, I was awakened and standing before me was my pal, Zack!

"Tibbs . . ." He meowed my name without moving his mouth! "What is this nonsense about you cancelling your wedding?!!" Zack hissed, nearly making me run from the room.

"How do you know about that? I, only, thought about it earlier this today." I was confused. "Zack, didn't you go OTRB?  How can you be here, now?" This was freaking me out!

"Meow . . ." Zack dug his claws into the carpet and stretched his body out fully. "I'm here to help you, Tibbs! We were pals here on earth and there are some more of your furriends who are willing to guide you towards the future you deserve."

"My future?!!! The one without Cleo? Louis is going to ruin me if I don't get these reviews done! That's the bleak future I'm facing, Zack."

Growling, Zack arched his back and came to a standing position. "Louis does not have the power to ruin you!" He yowled.

"What?!!!"

"He lies!" Zack boomed.

I crouched down, ready to bolt.

Zack turned to leave the room. He meowed over his shoulder, "Expect three furriends to visit you. They will show you the way." Zack leapt out the window.

I ran to the window, hoping to see him on the pavement below but spied no one. This was most disconcerting. It was like he just disappeared. I ran to my bed.

Chapter 3

I awoke, with a start, to the sound of something jumping on and off the furniture in the other room. This piqued my curiosity. I raced . . . (Okay, waddled . . .) into the other room to see a sight that had my ears twitching uncontrollably. There in plain sight was my old pal, Scarlett, leaping from chair to chair batting around an object that I could not make out.

I knew Scarlett had gone OTRB earlier in the year, so what was she doing here? I rubbed my eyes a few times to make sure it was really her. Then I realized what the object was that she was bunny kicking. A flyswatter! This was Scarlett, alright.

"Scarlett . . . Babe . . . Is that you?" I asked with trepidation.

She stopped what she was doing, sat up and said, "There you are, Big Boy! What's this I hear . . . You're considering working so hard that you'll end up having Christmas without Cleo? And you want to cancel 'The Wedding of The Century'?"

When put like that, it sounded ridiculous. I hung my head in shame. "Christmas is just another day. And the wedding may not be the best thing for Cleo. Louis says . . . " I stopped justifying my position when Scarlett held up her paw.

She approached me and said, "You're very easily influenced, Tibbs."

"No, I'm not!" I insisted.

Scarlett placed her paw in mine, and we were transported to a time in the past . . . I could see myself at the beach with the Dude, Sundance. "Brah, you got to get a job. You gonna be married soon. You gonna have a wife to support."

"That's why I want to go to Hollywood, Dude." I remember telling him.

"Marriage is a prison, Dude. I should know. You come see me when you in Cali., Brah. We have some fun together."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow at me.

"The Dude knows what he's talking about. Prison is his home away from home. But when he's out, the Dude can pawty like nobody's business. He can show me things . . . " I defended.

"But can he show you how to keep Cleo and yourself, happy?" Scarlett raised a valid point. She took a hold of my paw once again and we zoomed to the scene last Christmas when we had a nip pawty to end all nip pawties.

There we all were lolling about the house spreading the catnip, far and wide. Patches, the resident nip fiend, teaching us all the best rolling methods known to felines.

"Do you think we should have invited LG?" I asked the She-Devil.

"Lord who . . . ?" Patches could not even remember the name of the love of her life whilst luxuriating in the powerful weed.

I had forgotten this. I turned gob-smacked eyes on Scarlett. She grabbed my paw and whisked us back home.

"What does all this mean?" I asked.

"As the Ghost of Christmas Past, I wanted you to see how your decisions today affect your tomorrows. Think about that when you want to cancel the wedding." Scarlett picked up the fly swatter and ran from the room.

Chapter 4

Thinking about all I had seen had me more confused than ever. I decided to go to bed. I barely got my head down when I heard the ding-dong of the clock striking two - BONG . . . BONG . . .

All of a sudden, I heard the distinct meowing of a Maine Coon. I arose and sauntered into the next room, only to be confronted by my recently passed pal, Frederick.

"Freddy . . ." I rushed towards him. He threw up his paws and stopped me in my tracks.

"Tibbs, Buddy . . . Tell me it isn't true . . ."

"What, Frederick?"

"As the Ghost of Christmas Present, I've heard rumours about you dumping Miss Cleo? When I was among the living, I always looked up to you. It seemed to me, you had all the felines, but your heart belonged to Miss Cleo." Frederick began.

"It's all true, Bud." I answered but curiosity got the better of me and I asked, "The Ghost of Christmas Presents must be an important job. What kind of presents have you brought me? Are they filled with the 'Spirit of Catnip'? I might have to hide them from Patches. You know what she's like." I sniffed around my pal for the distinct odour of the weed.

Freddy guffawed until his eyes leaked tears of joy. "I do miss your 'Buffoonery', Tibbs. But I'm here to teach you to live in the 'now'." Freddy held out his paw. I took it and we were whisked to a scene . . .

Sitting in a fancy restaurant were Basil the Kindhearted with his girl, Tiny Bubbles. The lovely white Persian, Bubbles (aka Moet the Blind Cat) is given a covered plate, the aroma of which is scrumptious. She attempts to get at the food but cannot figure out how. "This meal smells delish, my Love. But I can't . . ." She mentioned to her date.

Basil leaps to his paws. "Allow me, Momo . . ." He removes the cover, allowing Tiny Bubbles to drive into the meal.

"Cat bless you, Basil. You are the best Tomfurriend, a girl can have."

 

Basil blushes and puffs out his fluff.

Freddy turned to me and boomed, "Their love brings them closer every day.

Thinking of my Cleo, I said, "There's plenty of time for Cleopatra and me to do romantic stuff like that."

"I thought so too. Remember . . .” Another scene unfolds before us . . .

Freddy and I were at a Stud Muffin Inc. meeting, a few weeks before he passed away. He asked me, "Should I ask Sooty to marry me?"

"You're still a young Tom. Play the field a bit, son." I answered flippantly.

Reliving this scene nearly broke my heart. "Oh . . . Frederick . . ."

"I never got the chance with Sooty. Don't make that same mistake, Tibbs." Frederick's wise words penetrated my heart.

He grabbed my paw and we transported back to my room.

"Will Cleo miss a lifetime of turkey and me, because of my behaviour?" I needed to know.

He meowed, "If you don't change your ways and concentrate more on her. I foresee a lonely, thin grey BSH . . . turkey-less and without her McDreamy."

I gasped at this harsh reality.

"The next Cat Spirit to visit you is the Ghost of Christmas Yet-To-Come. He will show you what your life will be, if you carry on the way you are." Then with a hiss and a poof . . . Frederick disappeared.

Chapter 5

Before I could even have a midnight snack, I was transported to a church where I stood at the altar awaiting my lovely bride-to-be Cleo. The nervous tension permeated my very being. I was ready to bolt.

Looking to the Vicar for support, I could not believe my eyes. It was Spooky. He winked at me and meowed, "Don't do it, Tibbsy."

I ran from the church, followed closely by Spooky.

"Stop running, you moron!" Spooky's meows rendered me motionless.

"Spooky, why are you here?"

"I'm the Spirit of Christmas-Yet-To-Come and I have to show you how your ridiculous behaviour influences the other cats. If you go through with this great escape, your furriends will take a leaf out of your book and . . ." Spooky teleported me to a scene involving Bubbles (Moet), Minnie, Patches and my Cleo. All of them sitting around a dinner table sobbing and meowing.

"Why are they all crying?" I asked Spooky.

"They have no food and their Toms are conspicuously absent." Spooky spoke solemnly.

"Surely, Bas, LG and the Dude are out rustling them up some grub?" I was distressed to see these lovely felines in such dire straits.

"The Toms decided to follow in your pawsteps and have absconded." Spooky flicked his tail and we magically ended up in Sundance's Catnip Mansion, where Basil, LG and the huge shadow of another cat rolled around enjoying wonderful weed cigars.

I turned to Spooky and said, "Tell me, that isn't Basil acting so disrespectfully. He loves Bubbles, he wouldn't hurt her like that. And LG would never allow himself to be nipped to the gills for fear of what Patches might do to him. Even Sundance loves Minnie enough not to . . . Who is that other hulking mass? It isn't me . . . Is it?"

"They all want to be like you. Carefree and irresponsible."

I was crestfallen as we catapulted back to my room. Could I truly be such a bad influence on my pals? I shamefully asked Spooky, "Are these the things will come to pass or only what MAY come to pass?" It was an important question. I waited with bated breath for the answer.

Spooky meowed, "Change your ways and you can still rectify things." And before I could thank my pal, he was gone.

Chapter 6

I awoke to the sounds of kitties opening their Christmas presents. Admittedly, the racket that could be heard usually had me running for cover but not today. All that I had been shown in the night was that being afraid and running away was not the answer. I had to change my ways and face up to the truth.

I loved Cleopatra and she loved me. I loved all my furriends and I knew they returned the sentiment. From now on, I was going to show them all that Tibbs was no longer a push-over.

First off, I called Louis B Hare and left a message on his machine. "You're fired!" Then I went to buy the biggest turkey I could find and invited all my pals round for Christmas dinner.

It was the most joyous Christmas I have every encountered. Tiny Bubbles said it best when she meowed grace before the meal, "Cat Bless Us Everyone!"

The End.

*A special thank you to Basil and his Mum for help with the photos*

 

 

For this, my inaugural report, I thought I would introduce myself and the greatest invention since . . . cat TREATS!

I am Mr. Tibbs, the self-proclaimed 'Handsomest Tom on Twitter'.  There is, of course some dispute about this title (do not want to hear about it, Lord Graydon) as it is in print now.  So, please accept the ignominious defeat with grace.

Handsomeness aside, I have been implored by the legions of fans out there, to share the joy of cats with all.  (Any references to the numbers of admirers I have, may be chalked up to nobody knowing how many a legion makes.)  

Needless, to say, it is a distinct pleasure and honour to dispense of the wisdom that this, rather, humongous cat has acquired over the past eight (nearly nine) years. (Human years, of course, as math is not my strong point unless we are divvying up treats.)

As some of you may know, I can be a bit of a flirt (just ask the felines of Twitter) but never in a creepy Harvey Weinstein kind of way.  (Unlike him, I have been fixed).  

I enjoy telling the ladies how beautiful they are and making them feel special.  I would be hard pressed to find any feline who wasn't the most stunning work of art EVER!  I feel duty-bound to lay it on as thick as I can.

And speaking of breath-taking beauty, Valentine’s Day is fast approaching and my fiancée, the lovely Cleopatra, might just be in for a treat.  I like to surprise her with a thoughtful, heartfelt token of my love.  (Cannot meow any more on the subject.  I do not want to spoil the gift.)

Just look at the Babe!  She holds my heart and despite my wandering eye, she graciously allows me to look (and compliment) the others, knowing full well that I would be lost without her.

How did I, a large lump, manage to snag such a hot commodity, I hear you asking yourself?  (Believe me, I wonder the same thing, all the time).  Is it the charm?  Is it the wit?  Is it the muscular bod?

You may have to ask the spunky BSH, herself as 2020 is the year she is to be mine forever.  I do know that every hair-brained idea that I have ever come up with, is backed to the hilt by my gorgeous girl.  

Take my exercise routine, for instance (and here comes the most inspired concept that you have been privileged to be a part of.  It is the ideal New Year’s resolution). . .

EAT!  SLEEP!  REPEAT!  Despite the intricacies and hard labour involved, my Cleo recognized the importance of it right away.

I shall give detailed instructions on how to implement the performance of said routine in a moment.  But first, let me explain my mission statement . . . I believe that every cat should have the opportunity to sculpt their chassis into a well-proportioned, beefcake frame, such as I have. And I guarantee you will not only LOVE this workout but unlike other resolutions you will never break it.

Now, prepare yourselves for the edification . . .

First of all . . .  EAT!

This is Step #1 and therefore has enormous implications as to how one will proceed.  You do not want to strain yourself by filling the belly to overflowing, yet the right amount of sustenance must be maintained in order to move on to the next phase.

Step #2 . . . SLEEP!

This stage must be commenced within minutes of the first.  It replenishes the burning of calories that one has wasted with the jaw motion of eating.  Once again, one must pace oneself through this juncture to ensure that a healthy balance remains.

Step #3 . . . (And my favourite . . .)  REPEAT!

Once awakened from Step #2, the routine begins all over again.

Personally, I have spent days doing nothing but this exhaustive training and because of the hard work I have fashioned an excellent body tone.  It has taken years to hone such a fine physique, but you too can aspire to the same heights.

Give it a try and let me know how you get on.  (Usually, this is where one would add the disclaimer about consulting a medical professional before starting any exercise routine.  My advice is to NEVER discuss this with the V. E. T.  They are all thermometer-happy charlatans, and a little too eager to proclaim one overweight!)

So, there you have it, Pals . . . my first official Tibbster Report.  If you like what you see, let the editor know as sucking up to the boss is a trait I greatly admire.  I shall see you in a month.

Mr. Tibbs  

Have any of you kitties ever spent the day basking?  I ask this for a number of reasons.  First of all, it is an enjoyable pastime.   Secondly, cats happen to be experts at it.  And lastly, with the entire world coming to a stand-still, this mode of relaxation could very possibly save the planet.

Now, I cannot claim that ‘sun-puddling’ (as some call it) has the ability to knock out this corona virus but it sure can promote healing properties the likes of which humans have never seen before.

Check out the Babe in the middle who happens to be my lovely fiancée, the beautiful Cleopatra.  *Holy Moly . . . Just seeing her makes me weak at the knees!  (Do cats have knees?)*  But one gander at her and my heart is full!

I have begun an in-depth study of the many different approaches to wallowing in the sun’s warmth for recuperative purposes.  The terrific thing being this field of expertise can be done in the privacy of one’s own home.  Social distancing must be practised and luckily it is a normal way of life for us cats.

Lying down, sitting up, indoors or out in the garden . . . All methods can help to alleviate the tense situations which can come up in life.  Whatever the personality, I can guarantee there is a comfortable position to suit even the most ardent sceptic.

As the humans’ stress over their enforced lock-down it is incumbent upon us cats to guide them.  Lazing around in the sun is something we do so well.  I would venture to say that we are beyond experts and may be in the guru category.  We could very easily come out with a series of on-line Masterclasses to help them pass the time.

‘Rolling In A Sun Puddle’, ‘The Hind End’, ‘Backyard Warmth’, ‘Floor Surfing’, all specific yet simple techniques which have their advantages and are easily taught.  Every person and cat can benefit from this type of discipline.

Being kept indoors can be discombobulating for those not used to it but personally I believe there is nothing better than to loll around the house and soak up the rays.

Emulating us is the key to getting through self-isolation.  Find yourselves a windowsill to perch on or the wide open spaces of the floor and get stuck in.

People, being who they are, like to complicate matters and begin to feel anxious when they cannot keep busy.  (It’s probably why they only have one life while we have nine).  So, a long soothing sun bath will ease the stress.

When the big, yellow orb in the sky makes an appearance, you have to train yourself to think, ‘BASK’ and get out there.  No one else can do this for you.

Basking is a cat’s prerogative and most of my pals have stunning styles which I can only aspire to.  One would think that warming yourself in the sun would be easy but I can assure it takes a special kind of skill and mindset.

All of us can learn it, do it and reap the benefits.

Mr. Tibbs

I’M IN THE DOGHOUSE!

Now, you may be thinking to yourself . . . Oi . . . Oi . . . Oi . . . That’s no place for a cat! And I would heartily agree but let me relate the circumstances and see if I can manoeuvre my way into the good books (once again) of my beloved.

As we all know, February contains the most ‘loved-up’ day of the year. St. Valentine’s Day. February 14th is the one day to which I look forward all year long.

It is marked on my calendar as ‘Cleo’s Day’ to remind me that I must do everything within my power to make this day special for the love of my life. Cleopatra.

I scrimp and save throughout the year, cutting back on the treats, as you can see.

Tiibs - starving himselfI starve myself in order to purchase an extravagant gift that will make my girl squeal with delight. And this year was no different. I had the whole day planned.

As this is the last Valentine’s Day that we shall experience as an engaged couple I decided to go BIG and OVER THE TOP. There was going to be the finest Pawsecco, caviar and Turkey giblets! (Cleo’s favourite). A plane to Gretna was on stand-by in case she could no longer control herself and a secret elopement was on the cards.  

I even had a stash of my sisfur’s catnip at the ready, right next to the pearl necklace and earrings which I intended to bestow upon my love. I tell you, this Valentine’s Day was going to be MASSIVE.

 

Tibbs behind barsSo, WTFloof happened? I hear you ask.

It all started long ago when I became embroiled with a nefarious rabbit who tricked me into signing a contract with him to be my agent. It’s a complicated story but the gist of it is, the screwy rabbit sued me for breach of contract, and we went to court, on February 14th of all days, to settle the matter.

I was advised by a not-so-helpful pal of mine to sing to the judge and was charged with contempt of court. Valentine’s Day ended with me in jail! Needless to say, Cleopatra was not a happy kitty.

So, I am about to grovel like I have never grovelled before and hope she will forgive my unacceptable behaviour.

A Poem For Cleo

CleopatraCleo, my beloved, I must confess
But I was under a lot of stress
The court case was an utter bust
And now, I’ve crushed your sacred trust

My love for you, it holds no limit
I will admit I am a dimwit
Valentine’s Day is truly ours
Yet, here I spend it behind bars

Being in chokey has taught one thing
If you’ll still have me for your king
My love for you will never end
You will always be my lady friend

Marrying you is what I long for
Your compassionate nature I do adore
Yet you are right to be enraged
Please, say that we are still engaged?

Beauty and grace, you are so glamorous
Breathless and swooning, you leave me amorous
I know my actions can be garish
But you are the one I forever cherish

Mr. Tibbs

 

Tibbs as CheWith all the fear, frustration and anger swirling around the world today, I have decided to take matters into my own paws and become a revolutionary!

The humans may have some serious issues to contend with (and I will let them sort themselves out) but honestly the discrimination that we have had to put up with for hundreds of years is shocking and totally uncalled for.

Why, there was a time in history, during the reign of the Pharaohs when black cats were revered.  We were treated like the ‘Cats’ we are, and it was glorious! Just thinking about being worshipped and deified was as it should be.  In fact, I do believe all black cats ought to be idolized.  

It wasn’t until the 1230’s that a papal bull was called into being, ‘Vox in Roma’ (if you ask me it was all ‘bull’!) which began the slippery slope into the abyss.

This bull declared that all cats were instruments of Satan and Medieval Europe went mad, purging the streets and neighbourhoods of our ancient ancestors.  Black cats, having ‘supposedly’ more Luciferian tendencies than the other felines, which as we are all aware is utter nonsense.  Exhibit ‘A’ . . .

We can all be naughty, in that adorably feline way but like all creatures, should never be judged by the colour of our fur.

So, I suggest we protest against this unfair treatment we have endured for centuries.  We will, of course, demonstrate in our unique feline manner by jumping up on counters (we are not supposed to be on), meow loudly at 3:00am (when the food bowl is empty) and my personal favourite . . . lie or sit on the humans when they are doing something important!

Tibbs asleepYears of anti-favouritism requires drastic measures and until the world acknowledges that Black Cats Matter, there will be no peace.  We will not rest* until the adoption rates of Black Cats are equal to that of our brofur’s.

*’Not resting’ was, a bit of, preposterous rhetoric.  I, like most cats, do my best protesting lying down.

Will arrange a ‘Sit-In’ soon!

Mr. Tibbs

 

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