Mew Year's Resolutions

SIR MEWSALOT the Sealpoint Siamese resolves:

1. To stop blaming his humans for the deaths of the cats he grew up with and to start sleeping in their bed again; 

2. Not to meow after midnight;

3. Not to lick Priceless (the semi longhaired Ragdoll) so much that he gets hairballs from the long hair;

4. To stop hiding under the Round Table whenever anyone comes to visit.

PRICELESS the Ragdoll resolves:

1. To remember he is still young and join the kittens when they run their morning laps; 

2. To keep on lying on his humans' pillows and purring them to sleep;

3. Not to rub against his humans when they are wearing black and just about to leave the house;

4. To remember that his female human is very short and not to jump up on the high bookcase and expect her to stand on tiptoes and pet him.

SEAL the Sealpoint Siamese resolves: 

1. Not to squeal between the hours of midnight and 6AM unless he has a specific reason;

2. To stop scratching his ears; 

3. To retract his claws when he puts his paws up to his humans' faces to encourage them to pay attention to him;

4. To stop being jealous and insisting on stepping between his humans and any other cat they might be petting;

5. Not to insist on playing "fetch" with the plastic spoon at 5 AM.

LYNX the Lynxpoint Siamese resolves: 

1. To stay for more than five minutes at a time when people pet him; 

2. Not to jump into bed with wet paws when he's been in his box or at his drinking water;

3. Not to scratch his humans when he is sleeping on or near their feet and they dare to move;

4. Not to disappear for more than three hours at a time.

SEAL AND LYNX also resolve: to start their morning lap running sessions no earlier than 6AM and to plan their route so as to avoid supine humans, breakable objects, and anything that might be wet. 

SEAL and LYNX also resolve not to run out of the door of the apartment when their female human is late to work.

Another joint resolution of SEAL and LYNX: We resolve not to stand on top of the file cabinet near the door and risk our necks by sticking our heads into the doorway when our humans open or close the door.

Debbie, their Human, adds: ‘The only one I think they'll actually keep is Priceless' resolution to keep on purring us to sleep on our pillow.  The rest will probably go the way of human resolutions!’

Teddy_Murphy1.  I will try and get along with Teddy (they call him my brother - not sure if I have seen a 3 foot cat that barks a lot) - anyway I will try at least for the first 2 minutes each morning.

2.  I will try and let the woman of the house to have a lie in at the weekend - so I won't get her up until 6:30am - unless of course I'm desperate and then it will be 5:15am.
 
3.  I will try to not bolt my food down and be sick everywhere - that or I'll try and get to the areas on the floor where it is easy to clean.
 
4.  I will try and come straight in when I'm called - not sit staring at them with all the doors open waiting until I'm ready to come in.
 
Timmy_Murphy5.  I will try and leave the birds alone this spring - mind you if my brother is up for it, and I'm on friendlier terms we could have a great game with the buggers!

Timmy Murphy

 

 

 

 

EDITOR'S NOTE: Sadly Timmy had to be put to sleep in July 2008 and earlier this year, Teddy wrote to me because he wanted to say something on his own behalf:
 
My brother (by a different mother) is no longer with me.  My mum is sad and I know that he is watching over us, so I have to carry on his work.  It’s very hard trying to sneak up on the birds, I am bigger than Timmy (about 3 foot bigger).  I am certainly not that light on my paws and although I can leap, chasing them is hard work. 

Then there's the resolution about allowing the lady of the house to have a lie in - well that's ok unless of course I am desperate - then she has to get up.  Obviously I can't just be let out into the garden to dig a hole (by the time I've finished it looks like an excavator’s been in to dig the hole), so I have to be walked. 
 
But there is one thing that I do miss and that's my brother Timmy; however, there is one thing I can give our mum and that is continuing the love that she gave Timmy and she still gives me. 
 
I don't meow and I don't purr; I only bark and howl.  I can't sit on her lap or rub and curl myself around her legs; I can curl round her feet and sit still for her to hug me. 
 
So to Timmy's fellow mates I will try to carry on his resolutions........ I don't think the pigeon has seen me so I must be off as my luck might be in!
 
Teddy

SMOKEY

1.  I will not eat everyone else’s food

2.  We will not play Herd of Thundering Wildebeests Stampeding Across the Plains of the Serengeti over our humans' bed while they're trying to sleep.

3.  I promise to remember that I cannot jump out of the bedroom window to try to catch the birds flying overhead.

4.  Next Christmas I will NOT try to get to the top of the tree just because I can.

5.  If I am fighting with the neighbour’s cat and my owner picks me up I will not go ballistic in such a fashion that the scars resemble a botched suicide attempt.

STORM

1.  I will not jump on my owner and sit on his chest at 5 in the morning and dig my claws in until he gets up.

2. I promise I will meditate more closely upon the casual relationship between going dumpster diving on Sunday afternoon and projectile vomiting Monday, and being brought to the Evil Place Where They Stick Things Up My Butt on Tuesday. I realize that if I hadn't done the first, none of the other things would have happened (and my owner would NOT get a huge bill).

3.  I don't need to check my male human's aim in the bathroom.

4.  I will come when my human calls me (if I think he is going to feed me)

5.  I will not try to catch the fish when they are trying to feed in the pond and I will NOT try to jump in with them.

SPIKE

1.  I promise not to miaow to go out of the back door and then run around the front and come in the cat flap only to miaow at the back door again.

2.  I will not wash my owner at 6 in the morning

3. I will not play "dead cat on the stairs" while people are trying to bring in groceries or laundry, or else one of these days, it will really come true.

4.  When my human is typing at the computer, her forearms are ‘not’ a hammock.

5.  I will not walk on the keyboard when my human is writing important Emma gnaioerp ga3qi4 taija3tgv aa35a.

 

New Year - New me!

A 10 point plan for a better me (as devised by my human)!!



When my humans packed away their Christmas decorations and a New Year loomed I decided to make a New Year’s Resolution. Something I have strenuously avoided in the past, as New Year Resolutions usually mean I have to deny myself some little luxury or pampering, in order to become a better, fitter or just a more adorable cat. I don’t think denying myself a bit of indulgence achieves anything positive in life.

My New Years Resolution is ......... to retire!!

I am now Ex-Human Supervising Officer, Tushtots, Retired

I thought about winding down from my duties here at Tom Cat Towers gradually, but instead have thrown myself into retirement wholeheartedly since my last visit to the vets and my 'health scare'. It’s not been that difficult as I’m an indoor cat and don’t really do a lot other than follow my humans round demanding food and/or attention when I’m not stretched out asleep.

In addition to snoozing for at least 18 hours I now have a new job description from my human which details my New Year’s Resolutions to make my new lifestyle as a retired cat work for us both:-

pink stuffed dog1. I will sleep in my new snoozee in the front room. It is sheepskin lined and snuggle-y. It is a lot better than trying to make kittens all night with the pink stuffed dog on Carol’s bed, occasionally falling off and mounting Carol’s knee by mistake, thus disturbing her much needed beauty sleep with my rampant rodgering and romantic ramblings. I can also fidget, scratch, pull knots out and chunter to myself to my hearts content.

2. I have started the New Year on a low protein diet as it has just been found that my kidneys are clapped. This health scare means a complete change and overhaul in feeding habits - I now eat healthily! I must not whinge when I am not given hand carved butter basted turkey, as this 'necessity', in my eyes, is no longer good for me. I must not drool and beg for high protein cat kibbles as they are now banned from my diet. Willi Whizkas can still have them, but only outside so I can’t ‘accidentally’ eat them. Therefore I am not allowed to sit at the window, sucking my tummy in looking pathetic with droopy whiskers in an attempt to look starved, trying to make Wills feel guilty as he Hoovers them down at a vast rate. On the other hand Wills cannot come back into the house and belch cat kibble flavoured burps over me.

However, I am now eating Joe and Jill's (lower protein) cat kibbles and they are gorgeous! Trouble is Willi Whizkas and Little Dumpty Roo have taken to them too in a big way. I have been told in no uncertain terms that I must not snorkel them down as if they are going out of fashion, I must share with my brother and sister as there are always spare bags in the kitchen with my name on and, if desperate, emergency supplies can be hauled back to Tom Cat Towers from Sainsburys at a moment’s notice. If I really try, and this takes a resolve of steel, I may be able to walk past the dish without guzzling a few mouthfuls. Trouble is, they have made my coat really glossy which mean more grooming. Good things always have a downside!!

3. I must not dash into the kitchen every time Little Dumpty Roo has a tiddle in the grit box, place two paws in and have a good sniff for about 5 minutes with my eyes closed as if in ecstasy. Apparently this is not acceptable behaviour for a gentleman-cat, and will not endear me to Little Dumpty Roo, or my humans! If I am not careful I may earn the name ‘Pervy-Piddle-Puss’!

4. I am an inside cat, I don’t do outdoors (except on a lead). Therefore when Willi Whizkas manages to drag himself in from a night’s worth of adventures I must not gambol up to him and thrust my damp nose up his bottom. Instead I must sniff his neck fur and lick him nicely between his ears when he lowers his head. If I continue to poke my nose up Will’s derriere, I must accept that he will thump me quite hard with his table-tennis-bat sized paws. If he does this, I am not allowed to spit and cuss as clearly I must understand that I deserve to be walloped.

Evil Marmalade Ginger Bits5. After almost 7 years of hostilities, it is time that the paw of friendship is extended to Evil Marmalade Ginger Bits, the ginormous intact ginger-tabby who lives over the road.  It is no longer acceptable for me to sit for hours at a time on patrol waiting for him to mosey into my garden and spray up my trees and bushes. It is not nice that I glare and cuss under my breath when he does appear.  When I go for a walk on my halter and lead I must not make a beeline for the foliage that Evil Marmalade Ginger Bits has sprinkled on, chuffle my face through it so that the scent is all over my facial fur and expect Carol to then kiss me. This is not deemed to be a sociable thing by humans and Carol does not appreciate the fragrance of ‘Eau de Tom Cat’ on her face.

6. It goes without saying that muddy paws are not allowed on the white duvet cover – apparently.

Wills trying not to burp tuna-breath on me!7. Feline-farts are not funny and not clever when humans are giving cuddles, ditto tuna-burps!

8. When going out on my halter and lead first thing in the morning I have to accept that Carol must get to work and time is limited. So ambling round the garden in my own dream world, having long slurps from the pond, then sitting gazing at birds is not on. When I dig holes to park breakfast I have to make an executive decision and go with the first one. Not dig one, try it out for size by waggling my bottom over it, excavate a bit more then abandon it, waste time picking new sites, digging further holes then eventually going back to the first one I dug.

When raining I need to be quick. Humans don’t have fur and don’t like getting wet, it makes them grumpy. I should be grateful that I have an escort at the end of my lead to accompany me on my external jaunts and should therefore be considerate of this service.

9. Fur balls do not amuse humans. They do not seem to appreciate the absolute pleasure of noisily retching one up in the early hours of the morning as they race out of bed flick the lights on and fumble round in a confused manner trying to find where on the new carpet I have projectile vomited one. I must try and curb this habit a bit.

Little Dumpty Roo on carpetI cannot point the claw of suspicion at Little Dumpty Roo or Wills as I am the only tabby and the evidence is there before me on the new carpet. It is also not nice to have eaten cat kibbles just beforehand to add content and colour to the offering.

10. When visiting the vet, it is not my right to expect a thermometer up my bottom every time. This exquisite pleasure is reserved for when I am really ill, not just having inoculations.

So far we are just a few days into the New Year and to be frank I wish I hadn’t bothered. My old slothful life was much more fun!!

Tushtots

Garfield Beaton from Scotland1. I shall stop bringing the neighbours presents at the doorstep ... it should be obvious by now that they don't like mice.

2. I shall eat a healthier diet ... apart from weekends ... also Mondays because every Garfield hates Mondays, and definitely not Tuesdays because everyone goes out and I'm all on my own with food to tempt me. Not Wednesdays either, because Wednesday is the day Mum goes shopping. And Thursday and Fridays are practically the weekend ... so ... that leaves us with ... ah well, never mind.

3. I will stop standing on the back of scales, freaking the humans out, after their year long GI diet.

4. I will pose more for pictures, although I'm a little camera-shy!

5. Have to talk to the white cat living next door. I don't think she understands things will never work out between us. She follows me around all day long, and doesn’t seem to get the hint. Maybe we can be friends…

A Morning Kiss

A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.

Janet F Faure

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