Resolutions

So, we were having a little chat and cuddle this morning and she said to me that she thought I needed to make some new year's resolutions. She said for example that I should try to wash more frequently, not wee on the floor and to do what I can to stop snoring so loudly.

I gave her the look that said, 'straight back at you kiddo'.

Running away

She just left. Put on a fur coat and said I am off to the burlesque cabaret. Now, while I am there, Marley, I will probably be talent scouted, so I am not sure if I will be back at all. I will probably be appearing in Berlin this time next week, showcasing my 19 inch waist. I will try to find you a good new home but you never know. You might end up in the feline equivalent of Dotheboys Hall'.

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just stared.

Oh, she said, as she left. Try not to spread your legs so wide when I am out. It's not attractive and they might get stuck like that.

Caught in the act

Yesterday, she got all dressed up and went out in the evening. She said she would be back at midnight and she had left me some supper and I had better eat it. Good, I thought. I have five hours to enjoy myself.

I pummelled my blankie and rolled onto my back, letting my slender legs roll apart as wide as possible and exposing my tummy to the world. This stance is very special and one you do not do in front of anyone. Well, I did it once in front of her and she laughed at me and called me 'disgusting creature' and said 'no-one wants to see that, Furbum'.

So, I snoozed and chilled with my legs akimbo. Imagine my shock when, an hour or so later I opened my eyes and she was there staring at me with a look of disgust on her face.

She said 'I was embarrassed that I was 24 hours too early for my date, until I saw what you got up to when I wasn't here'. Then she went into the kitchen and I could hear her laughing at me.

Sick bay 2

I was disturbed from my sleep by her ringing up the doctor. She was reciting her symptoms - sleeping for 14 hours at a time, can't get out of bed when awake, listless, decreased appetite, runny nose etc.

God what a moaner. And a fibber too. I mean, I haven't noticed a loss of appetite for example. And she was missing some of it out. Extreme clumsiness, slack housekeeping, irritating cough (well, it irritates ME), increasingly bizarre TV watching habits, cheese hogging, talking to herself, decreased lap size. She made an appointment for this afternoon. Perhaps they will send her away somewhere, I thought. A sane-itorium. That's a place where they make odd people sane again. I wish them luck.

This was a lot to think about and it wore me out. I skipped breakfast and had a siesta. Then, before I knew what was happening, she scooped me up, put me in a cage and whisked me off to the doctor. It was ME she was talking about.

Saw the nice doctor. He gave me a needle and some pills and said what a 'handsome boy' I was.

I AM a handsome boy.

Blue is the colour

I am feeling a little under the weather today and so is she. For a start, she refused to get out of bed until nearly lunchtime. I crept upstairs to have a look in, and she was lying on her back staring at the ceiling. I panicked - if she was dead, who was going to dish up my dinner?

Oh, she said, what do you want FatBoy? I shrugged my shoulders. I can't be bothered to get up, she explained. I am going to lie in bed until I die. My mummified body will be found on Pancake Day. Or what remains of it. You will probably have gnawed off my digits by then and my hair will be crusted with your drool. You'll get a good few meals out of my nose. Try to remember the good times, old boy.

So, I tried to remember the good times. I went downstairs again and left her to it. Some time later I heard the stairs creak and she loomed into view - a dreadful and awesome sight. I was a bit thirsty so I decided to have a cup of tea before I die, she said.

I'll have the salmon, I said.

Christmas drinks - grand prix style

Let me tell you about how Christmas Day went here. First of all, there was nothing under the tree for me (drat that mouse). Oh, but SHE got several presents, some of which she decided to wear at once. So, she was flabbing around the house in new pants and a fur wrap. Then she padded to the kitchen to open a bottle of fizz.

Watch and learn, Marlster, she said. I used to work in a champagne bar way back in the 80s. I'm an expert. Of course, this is cava, not champagne, but mixed with orange juice we will never know the difference...

And she started swaggering around with a tea towel, showing me the right angle and how to twist the bottle. Nothing happened. Dampened the tea towel under the tap and tried again. Nothing happened. Under the sink, rubber gloves on and tried again. Nothing happened.

She rummaged in the kitchen drawer. She started to chisel around the cork with a butter knife. Nothing happened. Rummage in the other kitchen drawer. Out with a wrench. On with a coat. Outside the back door she started to wrench the cork out. The cork broke. Into the kitchen, out with a corkscrew. Eventually the cork came out, and so did the cava in a gush.

She really is a dozy mare.

Things that go squeak in the night

It's true! Ghost Mouse was here - in this very room last night. I stayed awake as long as I could, watching the skirting boards long into the night. I must have dozed off at some point because when I woke up, it was daylight and I looked under the tree in horror. There was NO triangular shaped package addressed to me. It was gone.

Ghost Mouse stole my cheese.

I can't sleep

And it's all that bird's fault. My fur is standing on end. Earlier, she turned off the lights, except for those on the tree we have growing in the lounge. She said: It's our first Christmas Eve together and it's traditional that we tell each other ghost stories. I will go first. And while I was settling down on her lap she started....

T'was the night before Christmas

And all through the house

Nothing was stirring

Except for Ghost Mouse

Who, looking for mischief,

Spied a cat on a blankie

And used his tail for a rope

And his fur for a hankie.

He tickled Puss's nose

And ruffled his fur

But silly fat cat

Just let out a purr.

Mousey tugged the cat's whiskers

And down his back crept

But lazy black cat

Just snored as he slept.

Looking for more fun

Ghost Mouse spotted the tree

And said to himself

'Great - presents for free'.

A triangular package labelled

'Enjoy this Marley, please'

Was quickly unwrapped to reveal

Cheddar cheese!

Ghost Mouse smiled as he chewed

And laughed with a shake

At the stupid fat cat

Who couldn't stay awake.

And that's why, Marley,

On Christmas morn

Your stocking will be empty

And you'll be forlorn.

So watch out for Mousey

And his evil ways

To stop him from ruining

The best of days.

Handome chap

I WAS filthy. I got a foamy fur massage, a long rinse and a hot towel wrap. Then I had a thorough comb through and she tried out different fur styles on me. Centre parting. Mohican head and tail. Mohican body. Smooth comb-over. Back-combed tummy fur. Then she massaged my paws and tickled my ears and tidied up my crusty whiskers. It was most enjoyable.


Good grooming is essential for handsome chaps in their prime. It really is worth the time and effort.

It's Monday...

And that means it's bath night. She's getting all worked up about it upstairs, poddling around with my shampoo and towels. She's humming tunelessly because she hopes that will put me at ease. Fah la la, I am upstairs doing stuff that's nothing to do with you, Marley. Fah la la...

God she is so transparent. I shall spend the next ten minutes flexing my paws, claws and jaw in readiness.

Sick bay

I've got a bit of a snuffle.

Cheese withdrawal.

Fox News

I met a funny looking beast with a bushy tail on the patio yesterday. We sat down and stared at each other for rather a long time. He had pleasant whiskers and an interesting face and I just couldn't stop staring. He felt the same about me I could tell, and I hoped he hadn't noticed the pink collar and got the wrong idea.

It was all quite relaxing. That is until Mealticket flung open the back door screaming 'get away from that fox you stupid animal' and the party was broken up.

She gets very jealous when I try to make new friends.

Three pouches is NOT the magic number

So, she eventually went to bed on Sunday morning and I contemplated revenge. When she got up again at lunchtime, I asked to go out. I climbed next door, hid under the shed and settled in. After two hours, she was getting angsty and came out into the garden and called my name.

I ignored her. It got dark and I slinked into our back garden and watched her through the window. She kept looking outside but couldn't see me. Out she came again, calling my name. I sat my ground. She put on her coat and went out again, calling Marley - where are you sweetheart. Come on in, it's cold out here. She looked upset.

Eventually, my tummy was growling too much and I sauntered down the path to the back door. She opened the door and I gave her a great look. It was a look that said I might come in. I might not. I might just sit here on the patio while you plead with me to come inside and all the heat goes out into the garden.

This is psychological training of the highest order. After a full minute I sighed and slowly walked in and she smooched me and gave me the special M&S beef dinner as a treat.

Diet news

So, Friday was the first full day of the new regime, and it was harsh. Three pouches only. I licked UNDERNEATH my plate I was so famished. I had to sleep through my hunger and didn't get up until midday yesterday. I had two pouches for breakfast while she get ready to go out. I heard her booking a cab for 2 in the afternoon and she went out leaving me a third pouch for tea.

She staggered back home exactly 12 hours later, falling through the front door and sopping all over me with kissy kisses. I let out the most pitiful yowl I could. I yowled and yowled and she was so upset by the noise, she dished up a big plate of beef.

Then we had cuddles and watched Strictly.

My diet lasted a whole day.

The worst word in the English language

I've heard some bad words in this house. Cruel, harsh words. Name calling and sweary swears. But yesterday, she used words that froze my gentle heart.


I thought it was just another of those conversations where she blah-blahs on and I sit there pretending to take it all in.


Look, Marley, she said, taking a food pouch out of my special cupboard. I'll read the back to you.... two to three pouches a day. That's what it says. NOT three to four plus a cheese supper.

From now on you are on a DIET.

More name calling

• The Yukatollah
• Stink whiskers
• Fatty Catbuckle
• Catty Fatbuckle
• Clingy McDougal

Call Catline

These are just some of the names she has used for me in the last few days:

• Fat-face-four-feet
• Tubster
• Furry Fatface
• Stinky McGraw
• Monkey Paws
• The Droolmeister
• My beautiful furball (yuk)

Naturally, I call her names too. Gorgon Mealticket.

Nicely turned out

I had my weekly shower last night. This is how it happens.

She lures me upstairs with soft words and a cuddle. Before I remember what happened last time, we are locked in the bathroom and she is stripped to the waist. Then I stand in the bath and she turns on the shower, checking the temperature. Then she showers me from the neck down and lathers me up, holding me firmly with one hand. Then, when she is trying to pick up the shower attachment I leap out of the bath and cower behind the toilet. She chases me out, puts me back in the bath and rinses me off. I put on my most pitiful look.

She has my towel warming on the radiator and she rubs me down. When she has dressed herself, she wraps me in another warm towel and takes me downstairs, where she keeps the hairdryer. She gives me a blow. It's a nice, warm feeling.

Letter to Lapland

Dear Santa

I have been a good boy this year. Please bring me the following:

• A flock of non flying sparrows to live in the garden
• The 2009 Cheese Lover's Diary and/or Calendar
• The Ladybird book of British cheese
• A year's supply of strong farmhouse cheddar
• A different front door bell - this one makes me jump
• A blue studded collar

Also, something for my bird, who does her best by me. Please send her a taller bed as I can't fit under this one any more.

Oh. And a bigger lap.

Love from Marley

Human-animal trainer

She's been pushing her luck with me recently. We have an unwritten rule. She gets the bed at night-time. I have the bed during the day. And never the two shall meet. But she has spent the last two days and nights in bed, claiming to be ill. Moaning, groaning and feeling sorry for herself.

Self pity is an extremely unattractive trait in women. I got some small revenge by wiping my drool all over the sofa and 'accidentally' missing the toilet bowl once or twice. When she got up today she said she was feeling a little better until she came downstairs and started clearing up after me.

I do these things for her own good. I hope she's learned her lesson.

Big doo doo

She spent hours today getting ready to go out. Hair. Weird stuff on her eyes. Then a big mirror appeared in the room and she tried on an outfit. And another. Then another. And another. 'Is that too much flesh do you think?', she asked.

I spent some time pondering. Truth or nice?

She didn't wait for my opinion. 'I am off to a big do', she said. 'Don't wait up'.

Huh. 'Big do'!

I've left her one of those in the kitchen.

Tom and Jerry cheese

'I've got you a new cheese to try, Marley', she said to me last night. 'It's called Emmental.'

We sat on the sofa and I looked at the plate. It looked like cartoon cheese to me. 'See, Marley, we are going to share it. You can have the holes and I can have the rest'. Then she rolled around on the sofa, laughing at herself.

I maintained my dignity throughout.

Back to the story

So, I sat in my new cage in my new home. It was quite roomy and I could see the whole length of a sofa and the telly if I positioned myself properly. She fed me but she wouldn't look at me, or speak to me and she certainly never tried to pet me.

I was astonished at this behaviour. I sat for hours on end just watching her. What was wrong with me? Why was she more interested in everything else? I showed off my paper shredding skills, checking to see if she was watching. Not a flicker, but she turned the TV up a little. I used the toilet - noisily and messily. She got up and went out of the room, coming in later with a drink and staring out the window. Then she cleaned my toilet, but still wouldn't look at me. Later she put on some music and danced around the room a little.

I was out of prison, and in an asylum.

Wake up, lazy bones

We had a house guest last night. There was a lot of giggling and drinking and perving at boys on the telly. We had fish and chips for our tea.

Our guest left early this morning. But my bird's bedroom door stayed closed. I hung around for hours waiting for her to get up. Eventually, I stood on the landing and noisily prepared myself for purging. Eventually, she opened the door and I threw up all over the carpet. Then I started down the stairs, and threw up twice more.

'Oh dear', she said, all confused. 'That's not a very nice way to wake me up'. I paddled around a bit and then tracked it down the rest of the stairs, into the kitchen and then back up the stairs again.

And then I lay on her bed and watched her clean the landing and start working down the stairs. Exhausted, I dozed off.

Doctor's orders

I had to go to the doctor this week. It was a new chap. He read my notes and said to her 'Is he going to attack me?'

Actually I used a new technique. I slumped my body and it took two of them to lift me out of my box. I had to stand on the scales and he said 'Oh, he's put on quite a bit of weight. Actually he is slightly overweight. What does he eat? You are feeding him that special hyper-allergenic stuff aren't you?'

Oh crap. That horrid bland mousse stuff they used to feed me in prison. I looked at her, and she looked at me. Don't mention the cheese, I thought. Please. Don't mention the cheese.

'Well, he enjoys quite a varied diet these days', she said off-handedly. There was an awkward silence.

'Well, with his medical history, it's no problem if he's slightly overweight. Gives him a bit in reserve for when he's under the weather'.

I LIKED this man. He gave me an injection and I got my ears syringed and some new tablets and some drops for my food and some drops for my ears and a pedicure as well.

Came home and ate a rabbit and lamb mix-up. Nice.

Out of the FP and into the F

In no time at all, the van stopped, the doors slid open and the guards got out. I heard a ringing sound, voices, clattering. Then I was lifted up, carried through a big blue door and when I opened my eyes, I was in a house, in a room. And in a cage.

I could see her sitting on a sofa, chatting with the guards. Pretty soon, she stood up and they left the room. The door closed and she walked back in. It was just the two of us now. I could take on this bird and break her in no time at all. I settled down in a corner and stared.

But she didn't look at me, didn't speak to me and just picked up the paper. What was wrong with the woman? Ignorant cow, I thought.

How I broke out of prison

The days dragged on with the same old prison routine. Slopping out. Two meals a day. Scratching from next door. Evil Archie looking in on me and baring his teeth.

Then one day she walked in again, with a guard. I crouched in the corner and hissed. She didn't seem impressed at all. 'Strict house arrest', the guard said. 'He's a fighter - be careful with those long claws'.

Later that day, I was covered up in a blanket and huddled into a prison van with bars on the windows. I was being transported out of that place!

How we met

If you remember, I was stuck in a cell, unwashed, unbrushed and hounded by a guard dog. The staff hated me. It was mutual.

After a few months I began to overhear snippets of conversation - the guards were hatching a plan to get rid of me. It seemed I could be released into the community, with some restrictions, if they could find me a place in a half-way hostel.

And one day, the door to my cellblock opened and in she walked. The guard said 'We've got two lovely kittens with ringworm next door you might be interested in'.

But she wasn't listening. We were looking at each other, and my ears were all flat. 'Oh, he's a bad lot this one', they told her and I got my claws out to prove a point.

'Oh, really?' she said. 'How thrilling....'

Then she disappeared again.

Quiet night in

She's just gone out. Put a big pile of food in my dish and waved goodbye. Don't wait up, she said. As if.

Another ridiculous outfit. She'll be coming back alone again.

My new screensaver

Filth

I knew it was serious when she came home last night. She took off her jacket, went upstairs and came downstairs in waterproof trousers and a vest. This looks interesting, I thought. She picked me up in a kind of weird lift, carried me into the bathroom and locked the door.

Unspeakable acts were carried out in that bathroom. Most of it is a blur, but I remember big jugs. And scratching her neck. And of course how wet she got.

Not as wet as me of course. Eventually, she wrapped me up in a towel and we watched all the dirty water going down the plughole.

What a dirty boy, Marley, she said. Filthy, dirty boy.

Double or quits

That then, was half of my successful weekend. On Sunday, I decided to test how far I could push her. When she came downstairs in the morning I lifted my head a little from my basket and then dropped it down heavily again.

Oh, don't get up sweetheart, she said. I've got to go out early. I'll leave you a little food in the kitchen.

I dropped off again and was jolted awake by her crashing back home some time later. I heard her go into the kitchen, look at my untouched breakfast and come in with that weird look on her face. Bending down, she gave me a little tickle behind my best ear.

Still a little bit under the weather? Ahhh, furry feet. Look, I'll make us a special treat today. You stay there.

So, I rested my eyes while she clattered about in the kitchen. Pretty soon, I was enjoying a pile of roast chicken, potatoes and gravy. I then collapsed on top of the News of the World while she washed the dishes. She was singing, she was so happy she had got me to eat.

LOL.

How to get everything you want off birds

I have had a blinding weekend. Sit back and learn from the master.

Now, I'm no idiot. I've lived on the streets. I know, for instance, that this bird sometimes layers my less favourite dinner (rabbit) with one of my favourite ones (salmon, for instance) to 'trick' me into eating it. Result? I get two dinners and she feels she's got one over me. Everyone's happy, even if some of us are a bit cleverer.

Yesterday, I was all cosy asleep on bed when I heard her calling.

Marley, darling, come on. It's nearly half eleven. You must try and eat a little breakfast, sweetheart.

She was right. Now I was awake, I was hungry. Staggering downstairs, I saw her mashing up a sachet of tuna. Yum. She put the plate down and I gingerly approached it. Then sat down.

Darling - look. It's tuna. Your favourite. Come on.

I moved away from the dish and sighed.

Oh dear. Perhaps a little chicken. Would you like that?

Into the cupboard, out with the pouch. She sloshed it all over the tuna chunks. I sniffed. A slight shake of the head. I couldn't possibly eat that.

Desperate now, she opened the cupboard again. Go on, I thought. Bring out the big guns.

The M&S gourmet meal. Beef and gravy.

She layered the beef onto my plate. I had now built myself a massive food pile. A fish, fowl and meat terrine. I dismissed her and dived in.

Mutton

I was listening to Radio Five yesterday afternoon, waiting for her to come back home. They were discussing mutton - what it is, how it tastes, how you cook it, why you can't find it every day. Then the door opened and in she walked, wearing the most astonishing outfit. Shorts! A Sex Pistols jumper. And a bobble hat.

No shortage of mutton round here.

More vigilance required

I crashed out on my blankie in front of the telly after my tea last night. When I woke up, hours later, my tail was wet with my drool.

I turned around and there she was staring at me. Creepy.

"Ha, so you are awake at last are you, lazy bones", she said. "Since you fell asleep I have had a bath, tidied up, put the dishes away, made phone calls and had my supper.

"Do you know what I had for supper, Marley? It was cheese. Lovely, lovely cheese. I ate it right next to you and your nose was twitching but you didn't wake up. If only you had, we could have shared. But I finished it all off on my own. Ah well, never mind".

I pretended not to care, but after she went to bed, I snuffled round on the carpet looking for cheesy deposits. Cheese - my pearly delight. She was right. There had been cheese in the room. I could smell it but not a trace to taste. She must have hoovered it all up herself.

What a selfish cow. I am going to stick my paw down my throat and puke under her bed later on.

Cheese please

I've got to get me some more of that cheese. She's out at the moment. I have looked under her bed and behind the sofa. I have got to find out where her stash is.

The best day of my life

I have discovered a whole new food group! It's neither fish, nor fowl, but it is the tastiest in the world. Ever. This could be our way out of this dump. I need to encourage her to make money out of this new invention of hers - a deal at Sainsbury or a telly programme. And I could write a book about its tastiness. My whole life is going to change from now on.

Not sure about her name for it though. We need to work on improving it. My alternative names so far include:

Gilded cloud
Yellow mist
Golden shower

It needs work, but 'cheese' does not really reflect its tasty glory.

More toilet trouble

I guess I wasn't concentrating. I used the toilet this afternoon and when I turned round to inspect my output, I realised I had missed the toilet completely and had left my mark on the kitchen floor. She won't be best pleased when she gets home. Still, a woman's place is on her hands and knees being a scrubber.

Bad Santa

My first night wearing the collar was fitful and restless. I only managed 11 hours. In my dreams I was being chased by a dachsund on a sleigh. That bell was ring-dinging and my slender legs were a blur of fur as they flew through the snow.

Not rested at all, I staggered downstairs and found her in the kitchen where she looked at me, chortled and turned back to the sink. The corners of her mouth were turned up but she said
"you look so sweet in pink, chubby chops. It's very - erm - striking."

I sat down on my mat and gave her a hard stare for 17 minutes. She found it so unbearable that she eventually pulled on her poncho and left the house.

Thank god I don't have to walk down the street with her in that poncho.

Humiliation

So, she came in today all excited and showed me her shopping. Oh, a new bracelet I thought. What do you think of it, she asked me. Nice isn't it?

What can you say in situations like this? It's pink, with silver hearts on it. And a bell for goodness sake. And she is pushing middle age DOWN the hill. I pretended to find the raindrops down the window fascinating so she wouldn't expect a reply.

Then. I can't bear it. She asked me if I wanted to try it on and before I could say anything she had put it round my neck. And it's still round there.

Apparently I am wearing a 'collar'.

Winter draws on

I'm very busy at the moment trying to establish my new winter routines.

She wakes up first, but I prefer not to get up at the same time. I looked at her once when she had just woken up. It was like looking into the eyes of the gorgon. Mascara all round her face and hair sticky-outy. I do have a sensitive stomach, so I find it best to sleep for an extra hour or two while she is crashing around getting presentable.

She eats porridge. Yucky girly food - tried it once. Didn't like it. I tend to have a high-protein breakfast - usually fish.

She goes out. I go to her bed.

She comes back. I get up. I eat my tea.

I have a new fluffy bed which is by the radiator in the lounge. I spend late afternoons lying down, resting. Then, after I have tasted her dinner, and she has eaten it with my approval, we have some special quality time on the sofa. She gives me an evening bath in front of the tv. Then she goes upstairs to have her bath and leaves the door open because I like to watch her at all times. I am also learning a new game - chase the tape measure. The rules are very complicated and the game exhausting. Usually I have just enough energy left to eat my supper and then I go to bed.

Reading that back, I am astonished at how much I can fit into one day. If only others followed my example, the world economy would be off its knees in no time.

Philosophical stuff

Why don't they make sparrow flavour cat food?

How to write an article

So earlier on, I was doing a bit of post-breakfast pre-lunch internet searching when she said to me, rather roughly:

'Get off that chair, Buster, some of us have got work to do'.

What work? I asked.

'Oh, I have an article to write today', she said, all puffed up.

I was mildly interested so I kept half an eye open while I was resting. This is how you write an article

• Sit down at computer
• Sigh loudly several times
• Ensure last sigh makes 'raspberry' sound
• Tippy tap for five minutes
• Get up and retune the radio
• Make pot of coffee
• Go to the shops to collect a paper
• Sit back down again
• Sigh several times
• Stand up
• Water the garden for half an hour
• Prepare brunch
• Eat brunch
• Read paper
• Send emails telling people you are writing an article
• Hang curtains
• Run a bath
• Sit in bath for half an hour

She's still up there now, working away at her article and listening to the radio while she splashes around. It's really hard work.

Hungry Hammer

So, at half time in the West Ham match I thought I could maximise my downtime by demanding an early tea. 'You've already had two big fat pouches today, Marley' she said to me. But she dished it up anyway - chicken. Then I heard her say under her breath 'you are going to get a big fat pouch yourself if you are not careful'.

Oh ha bloody ha.

Too posh to wash

When she came home, I woke up and trotted downstairs. She gave me a big hug and then said 'ew, you smell like a big old sock'.

My personal hygiene is a constant source of friction between us. As I remember it, one of the terms on which I moved in here was that she would see to all my grooming requirements. She brushes my fur once a day and piles up all the dead fur in the middle of the room so we can both admire it. Every few days she gives me a sponge bath and pulls any tangles out by hand. This was our agreement so how can it be MY fault if I am smelly? I hope she's not going to turn into a nag.

I had fish AND meat for my tea.

Chaos in Deptford

Downstairs is all in turmoil. The furniture is playing at ghosts, all wrapped up in sheets and the telly's gone into hiding. And my blankie is missing. Last night, she went to bed early and I crept into the bed when she was asleep.

When she woke up she seemed astonished to see me. I woke up momentarily and knew immediately I was sleeping in a wet patch. After the last incident I didn't want her see it so I went back to sleep until she left the house.

I wonder when she will be back. I have already eaten my breakfast. It could be hours. I'm going back to bed.

Sensitive ears

She burst in about half an hour ago, covered in white paint and with her face all pink and shiny. It wasn't attractive. She said she had an accident on a bus with a pot of paint. She changed her outfit, and I had a little sit down on her lap. After a few minutes, I was just settling down to snooze when I cleared my throat and she started that ridiculous singing again:

You're a little purr-ball
You've got a fur ball

The sound was so unpleasant I told her to get in the kitchen and get me something to eat. She's easily distracted, and didn't get on to the chorus. Thank goodness.

A little light lunch

Nice. Shredded chicken in gravy. She's not a bad sort really.

Arch enemy Archie

Reading through my diary, I realise that I started telling the story of my escape from prison and my shacking up with this bird over a month ago. And I still haven't got to that bit yet. As you can tell, I lead a pretty busy life here and things get in the way so.

My dirty protest continued and my captors grew increasingly wary around me. Fearful for their own safety, they brought in a new member of staff - an evil guard dog called Archie Jack-Russell. He was an aggressive, snappy thing who was always snuffling around my cell showing off his teeth and his toys. He was the jailers' pet and went about his duties with gusto. The little rat catcher.

My tummy is really growly. I haven't had a bite to eat since elevenses. I am going to call her in from the garden. She's slacking and needs telling.

How to get birds and keep them interested

I sauntered downstairs mid morning after a little nap and there was a man in the hall. My bird was putting on a jacket and doing the old 'where's the front-door key' dance she does every time she goes out. I was astounded. Who was this bloke and why was she going out with him? I don't think so, mate I thought and did what anyone would in my place. I looked straight at him, and threw up my breakfast over the stairs.

That got her attention. And I got a tummy rub.

Old family recipe

She's got quite a repetoire in the kitchen, this bird. Sometimes, when I just don't fancy meaty morsels, she goes into the kitchen for hours, filleting fish, and coating the strips in breadcrumbs. I don't know how she fashions these 'fingers' but they are really tasty when mashed up on a small plate.

Psychological warfare

I think a lesser chap would have been set back by the collapse of the tunnels and the accidental destruction of the coded message. But not me. I decided that from now on I was going to engage in a dirty campaign. Having given up washing, I was already emitting a ripe fragrance that made approaching me an unpleasant chore for my captors. My fur was matted into clumps and my nails were an inch long. Now, I started to go to the bathroom all over the floor of my cell, keeping my toilet clean and fresh for any future tunnelling.

I practised holding my ears horizontally and snarling whenever anyone approached me. I was astonished at how wide I could open my mouth and how loud I could hiss. This unpredictable behaviour freaked them out and they started visiting me in pairs with one person standing near the exit shouting advice and encouragement to the unlucky person assigned with cleaning my cell.

This was great. They were frightened of me!

Night-time emissions

We haven't talked about what happened on the sofa yesterday, but she was obviously unsettled because she got up in the middle of the night to make a cup of tea. When she took it back to bed I silently followed her upstairs and jumped up on the bed and fell asleep. There was no touching.

When we woke up again, she looked at her 'vintage' (aka second hand) eiderdown and complained that I had drooled all over it. She couldn't look me in the eyes and stormed off to take it to the dry cleaners. When she came back she waved the receipt under my nose and said, you owe me 25 pounds.

She's quite attractive when she's cross.

I ate a whole tin of food in one go.

Touchy feely stuff

So there I was, lying on her and she was lying down too. I looked into her eyes, because she likes that kind of thing. Then suddenly she grabbed it right down at the base and squeezed it really hard. Oooh, you like that don't you? Is that nice? Oh, yes, that's nice isn't it big boy?

And it was. I couldn't help but dribble a little bit over her.

Grooming

Just had my supper - beef. She's quite traditional like that. Roasts on Sunday, fish on Fridays. We had a lie down on the sofa while she watched another of those never ending detective thingies. While I snoozed, she pulled all the knots out of my fur. By the time the murderer was revealed, she was covered in fur and I was several ounces lighter. She's having a shower now, sneezing all the way.

I feel very smooth. I think I might go out on the pull soon.

Food, food, sleep, food, sleep, food, food

Today I have had five meals. I started with a breakfast of tuna, then had some chicken, then ordered second helpings of the chicken, then finished the tuna then had some nice shredded chicken breast. If I go on like this, I won't be able to fit under her bed any more.

I found some time to lie on the sofa, on top of my bird. She fidgets a bit and always wants control of the remote. When I woke up all bleary she said: you were snoring, fat boy. Something to do with the meals she dishes up.

Two dinners

I had two dinners last night. A fish course followed by a meat course. I don't eat vegetables. Or fruit come to that. Both are for girls.

Anyway, I was telling you about my escape plans. After exhausting myself on making my Britney rainfall note, I woke up some time later in a confused state. I seemed to be lying in a warm nest of shredded paper and it took some time to locate the note. Disaster! In my sleep I had drooled all over it and it fell apart in my paws. All that hard work for nothing. I was shattered with the disappointment and rolled into a ball. I fell into a dreamless sleep.

Sick as a - well - a cat

This bird's driving me mad. I think I must have had a heavy night because I brought up my breakfast today. I couldn't be bothered to rush to the toilet, so I just barfed up on her 'vintage' (AKA second hand) carpet. After giving me 'the look', she rubbed my tummy for a bit and left me lying on the sofa. I sent her out to get me some fancy food and she burst back in singing one of those dreadful songs she makes up.

Your name is Marley
You ride a Harley
And now your poorly
Your tummy's sore-ly

She never considers it might be this kind of thing that is making me sick.

Zola - la la la la Zola

She's getting ready to go out. Never bothers to ask if I mind. Trying on outfits she is, each one slightly more stupid than the last. I have tried giving her a look but what's the point? Doesn't bother me, so long as I don't have to be seen out with her.

Anyway, the football's on the radio. Come on you 'ammers.

Lying in

I have just woken up. This might be a record as I think I went to bed after high tea at 3.15 yesterday afternoon. When I sauntered downstairs, there she was in the kitchen unpacking shopping and eating bread and butter. She gave me a look and muttered something that sounded like 'slob'. I stared back and asked what was for breakfast and it had better be something more manly than bread and butter.

Toilet trouble

I've just been to the toilet and really stank the place out. She's in there now cleaning it out. I heard her gagging.

The power of the press

Every day my captors lined the floor of my cell with fresh newspapers. After reading the sports pages I started to shred the papers using my long nails. I began to experiment with using my drool as glue. I discovered that mixing it with half chewed food and letting it hang from my chin had the desired effect. I managed to stick two words together.

Britney rainfall.

Worn out by my efforts, I slept for the next 14 hours.

Other prisoners

I can’t believe she made me watch the football last night. Silly mare. Where was I?

Despite the harsh routine I was starting to regain my strength. Although I was kept in ice-lation, I started to hear noises from neighbouring cells. Scratching and digging! Not only were others in my situation, but they too were set on escape. Did they know I was here? Could we pool resources and work together to overthrow this evil regime? I set about getting a message to my fellow prisoners.

What time is it?

My body clock’s been off all day. What happened in the football? I am a West Ham man myself, and my bird thinks that this is another thing that bonds us because her useless team plays in the same colour strip. Women! What do they know about football anyway? I asked her to leave Radio 5 on when she left the house this afternoon but then I fell asleep and missed it all. She'd better be back in time for Match of the Day.

Still awake - I'll be ill at this rate

I sleep on the sofa most nights. Others I sleep in the spare bedroom. Once I even woke up and I was on the landing and must have been there for some time because there was quite a lot of drool on the carpet.

I’ve only tried to get into bed with this bird once, just after I moved in. It was an accident. I turned left at the top of the stairs instead of right and she was all ‘Oh, darling, did you come to say hello, you’re lovely aren’t you.’ She started to kiss the back of my neck and I was out of there like the clappers.

Empathy with dogs

The postman just woke me up. She's been shopping on bleedin' ebay again.

Dig for victory

I had to lie down after dinner while my bird rubbed my tummy. This story is going to take forever.

So there I was, locked up. These strangers made sure I was compliant by keeping me warm and feeding me regularly. For two weeks I was too tired to fight back.

But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. When you’ve lived on the streets, you learn a few tricks. By week three I had started a tunnel covering my tracks by pretending to be using the toilet. The work was exhausting and progress was slow. I would dig frantically for anything up to 45 seconds and then doze off, sometimes for hours on end. When I woke up I would be confused, forgetting where I was or what I had been doing.

Several times I started to dig again in the wrong place, accidentally filling in the previous work. Other times, I forgot my purpose and went to the toilet in the tunnel. With no ventilation shafts, the tunnel became unusable.

The plan wasn’t working.

Banged up

Sorry. I fell asleep and woke up 19 hours later with drool on the keyboard. I was trying to get to the bit of the story that explained how I moved in with this new bird.

I couldn’t believe it. I had evaded the law for so long and here I was, banged up without trial and kept in a windowless cell with primitive toilet facilities. I was forced to eat drug laced food. If I refused the food, they injected it into my leg. Sometimes I ate the food and they still injected me. They were always one step ahead of me with their clever games. They tried the old 'good cop/bad cop' routine. Sometimes it was all kind words and petting. Then they would begin prodding and poking me. Every now and then a strange man came in and put a thing in my bottom without warming it up first. The whole system was set up to break me down and make me renounce my ways.

Oh, hold on. She's rattling some saucepans. It must be dinner time.

A mis-spent youth

I was a right Jack the lad when I was younger. I used to break into houses and eat any food I found. If I felt like it I would scratch the wallpaper, wee in the kitchen and poo in the bath before sweeping the lady of the house off all fours. There was a time when I was responsible for 30% of the illegitimate births in the conversation area of broccoli, SE4. I thought they would never catch up with me.

Then I started to get ill and found I couldn’t be bothered to wash myself so regularly and I stopped thinking about sex. Things were bad. My face was crusty and my coat needed cleaning. I followed a lady home and pretended to like her cat. It was easy to get her to like me and we moved in together, just as friends. She seemed nice.

What a schmuck. Before the week was out I was reported to the authorities and I fell into a classic honey trap. Lady police enticed me with kind words and special tickles and suddenly I was in a cell in something called ‘ice-lation’. They told me I had gone ‘astray’ and was homeless and set about reforming me.