I Am Cattacus!

The human swore very loudly and landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

I may have killed him.

Well... shit.

I might just be the worlds' worst cat.

There was movement and noise from down below so I went to see what all the fuss was about. Meowing loudly at him "stupid human—what are you complaining about? I'm the one getting stepped on!"

Seriously, the first time we meet and he tries to kick me down the stairs!

Idiot. I could see I was going to have problems with this one.

The human slave looks well cared for, although he is still making a lot of noise and seems to be looking at my collar. I think he is trying to give me a new name. He said something about a 'ginger bastard.' I don't know what that means in cat language, but hopefully the noise will stop and he'll feed me soon.

Following him into a kitchen I saw him open one of those magic doors like in my old house and lift a carton out. Giving it a sniff, I decide it was good enough and told the human to pour some into a dish suitable for a fine, gentleman cat like myself. I never beg to be fed. I simply tell humans what I want, repeatedly, and wait for them to do the right thing.

This one seems ok. The human from the other house put everything into a big lorry, then put me and my basket in the car and when I got out again I didn't know where I was. I did not approve of the new place and decided to return to the old one but then I got lost... and hungry, so went looking for a human to feed me.

This new slave has milk, and hasn't put me in a car yet. If he feeds me after my nap, I'll stay here. The new slave is telling me I don't live there, but that isn't really his decision, is it?

Meeting the neighbours - I met the stoopid cat who lives next door.

The slave told me the cat who lives next door is deaf. White and deaf. So basically it cant stay clean, like good gentleman cat should and is too stupid to listen or do as he is told. His slave apparently calls him 'The Fluffmeister'.

Fuck that.

This morning I was bored so I started hiding behind stuff in his garden and jumping out to scare him. It's a good thing he can't hear himself cry.

His human thought it would be funny to put a bell on his collar, so now can't catch birds because they can hear the bell and he can't.

He can't hunt like a proper cat any more—its hilarious to watch. Me and my slave watch him through the window and laugh at him.

My new name - Cattacus Interruptus

My slave said the v.e.t. told him I didn't have a microchip so he couldn't find or give me back to my former slave. I was insulted he even tried!

Anyway, because I am now staying here the slave said I need a name. Apparently 'That Ginger Bastard,' as he had called me until now isn't appropriate. As long as he feeds me and it isn't as embarrassing as Mr Fluffmeister from next door, I don't really care.

The slave was watching a movie tonight and someone said "I am Spartacus!". The slave looked at me, actually had the nerve to tell me I was a stubborn little shit too and named me Cattacus, the feline equivalent of Spartacus. In fact, Cattacus Interruptus because I disturbed and ruined his morning on the day I arrived when I made him fall down the stairs.

At least its better than 'Mr Fluffmeister' from next door puts up with.

The problem with birds...

My slave needs to receive constant meowing to get up and feed me before I leave on my morning patrol. I have had to resort to sitting on his head and digging my claws into his face. He makes a lot of noise about a ginger bastard—but I still don't know what this is or why he wants one.

He is still very slow at doing what he is told, but I think he is beginning to get the idea. To show him it IS possible to have food in my bowl at a reasonable time I fetched in a wee bird from the Garden—not quite dead, as I think he needs to feel some sort of achievement at catching something.

This morning, I sat patiently waiting for him to assess the situation and learn from it, however he started making weird noises again... he said something about, "What the f*ck cat?!%*!" and, "Dirty little bastard."

I don't know what those mean but he obviously was too stupid to learn from the wee bird I brought.

That evening I smelled something awesome coming from the kitchen food place. The slave said it was called 'chicken' and that this was the only kind of bird allowed in the house. What the hell?

It tasted great, but I am still appalled by his failure this morning.

I've been sleeping here all day... and now it's YOUR chair?

Every day the slave waits for me to leave on my morning patrol and then abandons the place. He is nowhere to be found when I return. I look to see if there is a lorry outside this house too, but so far this have not found one. My food bowl still has some food in it, but that is not the point.

In protest I use his shoes instead of my new litter tray.

My bed has been put in the wrong place by the slave so I have to use the large squishy chair be able to sleep where the sun shines through the window.

Today the slave rudely woke me up lifting me of it. He said 'No - this is MY chair', and dumped me in my basket. It was all very undignified.

Tonight I will make my feelings on the matter known to him by shitting on his bed—let's see if HE likes sleeping in the wrong place.

Training my new human slave...

It's been a tough first week but I'm sure I can break him.

He keeps waving a flashy thing at me and telling me I'm part of something called 'Cats on Twitter' but I have no clue what that is. He keeps putting the thing called a laptop in front of me and telling me about other cats, but seems to get upset when I lie down and go to sleep on the buttons when he is trying to type. Then he chucks me off the laptop onto the floor. Cats sleep in warm places—I don't know what his friggin' problem is.

Asshole.