Speed now, grace later.

Today I was startled as Yoshka suddenly leapt up as I walked past, and then hurtled down the stairs in front of me, her long white rear legs working in powerful unison to propel her in a series of rapid hops down to the hallway below, where she skidded on the tiles, her nose coming to a stop inches short of the front door. Dignity will come with age.

Music Master

What a lousy, grumpy mood she's been in for days. But just this evening I think I found a crack in her defences. She seems to be really jealous of my guitar. I strum, she miaows and hops onto my lap between my arm and the wood of the guitar. A little awkward, a bit tight for space and certainly cramps my style, but if it wins her back, she can join me on stage.

No cucumber, just cheese and tomato, thanks...

Meat made her mean, moody and malevolent

I raised Yoshka on organic natural dry food, made with only the absolutely essential chemical additives, and no colouring or hormones. Just whatever was necessary for her good health. And healthy she grew. She had always been a little on the moody side, quite unaffectionate, a little nervous. Then I read that "hey, cats don't go chasing biscuits in the wild, so why feed them teeth-cracking hard kibbits?" And the arguments the websites put forward for organic, free range chicken seemed convincing, even though as a vegetarian myself it was anathema to me. So I gradually changed her over to chicken, and reduced the dry food. And that meat has gradually changed her into a monster. A monster who bit me last night for the first time. If I reduce the chicken now she'll certainly attack me.

Oh, so now you like me again, do you?

Trouble in an alien world

A dog sleeps, eats, hears a stranger or another dog, barks like mad, end of story. But a cat experiences a whole drama and places it firmly in a fifth or sixth dimension, out of the auditory and visual range of humans. To sum up: Yoshka, what on earth is wrong with you, what is going on? Give me a clue! Grrrrr! (that's me, not some dog)...

Ok, so I am a little jealous. But I can control it, trust me.

Photo by Maki Tsunoda of her cat Zeke.

Sardines for the bully

I tried to open a tin of sardines for my lunch without her hearing. In a second she had jumped down off the bed and was in the kitchen, sitting there looking hard at me. I could read her mind: "You're not going to eat the whole lot yourself, are you, greedy?" I sighed, scooped out a tribute sardine piece, and placed it in her bowl. She did the usual act of pretending to want to eat it, licked it and walked off. As usual. She actually hates sardines.

Standing out - not.

A king gazes down upon mere mortals.

Crazed ghost cat in window

Just smashed someone's sandcastle.

Feeling a bit down today. I think.

I just ate your husband.

Life behind bars. Tough, eh?

My gang. Just hanging.

Photo by Lucy-may Upton