Jasmine (1999-2011)

Jasmine, the Warrior Princess, died last Monday. And there will be a worthy tribute piece at some point.

Being a total sentimental case, I asked the vet for the ashes, which were ready for collection today.

They were nowhere to be found when I arrived. Even in death, that cat could do a runner from the vet.

Well done that girl! They did turn up, btw.

Cats in cahoots

Oh, I give up.

Once again my attempts to thwart the inner domestic goddess have been foiled.

It is Spring, and the cats always celebrate this by bringing fieldmice in the house. I found the one they kindly left next to my favourite boots, but Bailey was sniffing around very enthusiastically and I suspect they have another one lurking about somewhere.

Cue full furniture moving session tomorrow, with a weekend of spring cleaning as today's exploration of the further edges of the living room revealed

an old copy of Private Eye behind the sofa

some earrings that had fallen off the bookcase

rather too much wallpaper clawed from the wall by Tig/Jasmine

and sod-all else.  I could take it at face value, no mice, but Bailey never gets that animated without good reason.

I have pointed out that dead mice are not really a present I appreciate, but the suffer from Feline Selective Deafness. I suspect that this was a ploy to take my mind off work. I would have preferred booze and chocolate.

Gerr-cat Heaven

Tyler has been watching the Big Cat Diary Live shows on BBC1, and is in gerr-cat heaven.

Our little gerr-cat Tiger is still taking antibiotics, and is desperate to get his paws on a tranquiliser gun. To knock us out...

I don't think he'll ever get the idea we are doing this to keep him alive, furry bampot.

Why Pesky Critters?

After the previous entry, I had visited Scott's once more.

Holly had managed to lose another collar, complete with magnetic catch for the catflap. I think she's selling them on eBay, and sent Scott a message to warn him about the guitars. After I had sorted Madam out with a meal and replacement collar, I went off to sort out my gang.

Who had been beautifully behaved.

Until one of them left a dead sparrow in the sink, suppertime Monday.

Sorry kids, but sparrows are like mousies - outside fare.

This rings so true Chez Reservoir Mogs

Kitchen-Floor Conflict Intensifies As Rival House Cats Claim Same Empty Bag

All Quiet on the RM front...

and I am suspicious.

Last week I had to spend a couple of days at home, with a migraine. This week I spent a couple of days at home with Mum, who was recovering from a hospital visit (think anaesthetic, tubes and painful).

In between, there was a frenzy of tidying-up and furniture moving. The cats really don't like it when I'm home during working hours, they wonder what I'm up to. And they really hate big upheaval, tidy round by all means but moving furniture? Nooooooo, no, no! So the Mogs retreated to a safe distance and kept their heads down.

So why am I worried?

The last time they were this quiet, we ended up with a feline killing spree which involved several dismembered garden critters, and a goldfish corpse. Reservoir Mogs indeed. I really need to start clearing the box room but this is their last bastion of peace in a cruel Kim-and-Aggie world and I don't want the house turning into an abattoir.

Apparently young Scott over at Everybody Laughed has moved his stuff round and his cats LOVE it. Inadvertently he has created a hi-speed run from kitchen to patio doors, so easy to get some speed up and be halfway down the garden to catch unwary pigeons. Ok, so the last bit is in their dreams, but they are happy with the new arrangement and hey, there are some very stupid pigeons out there.

But my cats know what they like and they don't like change. And Bailey is just worried he'll be moving house again.

I have to go and buy some serious pet bribes now.

Reservoir Mogs - update on the other chapters

There are several chapters of the Reservoir Mogs, and here's the action from around the regions;

Reservoir Mogs (Southern Manchester)
Scott went back to Scotland for Christmas, so I resumed babysitting duties. Which just involved sitting around, snoozing with Holly and Rumpole. There was a bit of recycling involved too. Holly was very happy with the large cardboard box that came with some piece of computer kit or other - we agreed that geeks do the best cardboard boxes.

Reservoir Mogs (Salford Posse)
Shadow is officially a two-home cat, though he did have the decency to leave my brother's house to spend Xmas with his proper family next door. Blue has decided she will finally see him off this year, while Red and Pumphrey are just treating him with complete contempt. But he's won over the humans of the household, for what that's worth.

Reservoir Mogs (Gee Cross)
Sadly, Tubbs is no longer with us, but a quick visit to RSPCA recruited Peason. He's a nice stripy tabby, which will add a bit of variety to the photos.

Apart from that I spent Xmas at the races, spent quality time fighting with the folks and managed to return to work lighter than I left. Result!

Power shift

Since the departure of Greebo, there has been a small but subtle change in the power struggle at home.

The cats are used to having an advantage, the dogs have seen a chance to catch up.

So the dogs are treating me like Queen of All I Survey and the very best leader a dog pack could have, and the cats are making it quite clear that I am One of THEM. They will waive the usual 4-legs, 9-lives rule for once.

I did point out that they are pets, there purely at my whim. They ignored me.

Still, it is nice to be popular, instead of being a human tin opener.

Bonfire Night

It's been a bloody awful few days. My pets hate fireworks.

But a new sport has been created out of the chaos in my house.

Dog Biscuit Subbuteo.

2 small dogs versus 1 mad person. The idea is that you take one handful of dog biscuits and use the Subbuteo 'flick to kick' action to move the biscuits round the floor. Nominate a goal from any piece of suitable furniture, and try to score as many goals as possible before the dogs eat the biscuits.

The cats don't think it will catch on.

Visitor

James and Angie have decided to return to the UK, due to her mum's ill health. Fine.

My mother asked if I would mind their dog. Not so fine.

Anyways-up, the mutt ended up at my house on Friday. I made it quite clear to everyone concerned that if anything happened to my cats, I would make mincemeat out of anything four-or-two-legged that I thought responsible for harming them.

What do the Reservoir Mogs do? Adopt it as one of their own! After scaring it a little, just for fun.

Poor little hound, he'd managed to hurt his leg before being crated up. So he had a suspected chipped bone in his leg, jetlag, and was missing James and Angie. He was too much of a soft target even for them.

Jasmine did spend a bit of time looking like an outraged Furby, and Tig came down to wail a bit (and take a crafty swipe at poor Bailey at the same time). Greebo couldn't give a flying f...root loop about any of it.

Eric, as ever, was the star. From a lofty position on the kitchen workshop he made eye contact with the dog, stood on tiptoe and fluffed up to double size ALL IN COMPLETE AND VERY SCARY SILENCE. Poor dog was terrified. After that Eric ignored the new yapping peasant all night.

Gromit thought it was great to have another dog around. So Bailey is staying until James and Angie find somewhere to rent that will take him too. I think he's going to be around for a while...

Fireworks

It's that time of year that most pet owners hate. Some people have pets that stay oblivious to fireworks. Indeed, we had a bearded collie who used to sit in the garden and watch them.

My lot hate them. So we are now moving all the furniture to create hidey-holes for scaredy-cats.

Last night though, we had a family hug-in, all the pets huddled on the sofa to take advantage of the situation. No photo unfortunately - I was trapped between Tig and Gromit and couldn't move.

So far we have dark places to hide, radios on standby, a plug-in thing from the vet that is supposed to calm them down. Hope it all works...

All the fun of the fair

Gromit has a new game.

I own a wonderful chair that belonged to my Auntie Alma. It is the most comfortable thing, managing to both rock and spin at the same time. Placed next to the fire, it is the best place to be on a cold Autumn evening.

So I believe; the cats have commandeered it.

Whilst playing a lively game of 'Fetch', Gromit ran into the chair and made it spin round, much to the fury of Jasmine. I know we shouldn't have laughed, but it was stupid and funny.

So now Gromit headbutts the chair whenever he passes, leaving the encumbent cat spinning like a nervous kid on the waltzers, too dizzy to retaliate.

Strangely, Greebo seems to enjoy it...

It explains a lot...

Watching "Heroes" last night with the Reservoir Mogs, they suddenly appeared to wake up and take notice.

I realised that the magic word was "invisible".

It is now obvious that all the damage in my house has been caused by an invisible cat, and they take all the blame.

Given their ability to suddenly appear in the strangest of places, at equally strange times, I figure they had this invisibility thing sussed years ago.

Gromit has not yet started to blame the invisible dog for anything. I can't decide if he has too much integrity, or is just too thick to find a scapegoat.

Negotiation, a la Greebo

Don't get me wrong, I love Greebo dearly but he is a weird cat. He doesn't approach problems in the same way the others do.

Like this morning. Normally, he's a very outdoors sort. He's not given to joining in the territorial battle for any cosy areas in my house. But early this morning Manchester decided to go a bit chilly so he joined in the scrap for the bedroom.

Not by staking a place on the top of the bed, that is too obvious in GreeboWorld. He did it by going under the duvet, burrowing underneath Tig then standing up (still under duvet!) to knock Tig over the edge onto the floor. Then stayed there purring away quite happily, while Tig tried to work out what had hit him.

As Tig is the original Nice-but-Dim, this could take a while.

Catbook

I can't be bothered doing Catbook entries for the Mogs just yet, but here are some facts about them.

Tig likes to sit with his front paws in the water bowl

Eric likes Baileys ice cream, and smelly blue cheese

Greebo likes to make a fuss of Jehovah's Witnesses on Sunday morning

Jasmine is terrified of sneezing people

So if anyone wants any of the weirdos, just let me know!