Sleeping in

She is such a lazy cow. It was nearly midday before she crashed down the stairs today. And the first thing she said to me was 'Look at you, you lazy good for nothing animal. You sat on that armchair at 4 o'clock yesterday afternoon. Twenty hours, Marley. Twenty hours...'

Staggering off to the kitchen I heard her muttering 'might as well be dead and save me the food bills and the extra housework...' which I thought was very harsh. Must remember to do something horrible to her today...

Why my ears were burning

The lady who looked after me when Mealticket left me home alone came round yesterday. I heard them talking about the most interesting thing in their lives:

'Thank you so much for looking after Marley for me'
'Oh, it was no trouble. Erm... he DOES eat a lot doesn't he?'
'Yes, he has quite a healthy appetite'
'Twice as much as my cats eat'
'Gosh. That much. Really?'
'Yes. And that drool...'
'Oh, I know. He can't help that. Still handsome though isn't he?'

There was an awkward silence. I heard Mutton clear her throat. And a pin dropped somewhere.

Spring is in the air

I've had a rotten weekend. It all started yesterday when she came home and said to me 'It's the right time of the year for spring cleaning, Fatpuss' with a look in her eye that could only mean one thing. The weekly humiliation of a shampoo and towel rub. I was astonished at the dirt that came out of me and my fur bunged up the plughole quite impressively too.

Not much better today. She woke up, came downstairs and tipped me off my blankie before shoving it in the washing machine. After that the curtains went in, which she said were hemmed with my slime, which seemed a bit of an exaggeration. Then she went round the downstairs scrubbing the skirting boards and walls, looking at me every now and then with disdain. 'This dirt is all you, Junkbum', she said, which was harsh in two ways.

To round off my misery, she is now plugged into her red thingy and dancing round the lounge with a stupid smile on her face. I hope Ginger isn't looking in. The shame of it all.

Is it legal

For humans to go away and leave cats in the house alone for a whole weekend? A strange lady came into the house to give me my tea on Saturday and my breakfast on Sunday. I hid upstairs and watched her through the banisters.

When she came home on Sunday she was rosy cheeked and windswept. That's not a good look on her. She was all lovey dovey and chased me around so she could give me little squeezes behind my ear. It was pathetic really.

So, I got around to planning my revenge and today I went out for six whole hours. I found a nice spot under a shed down the road and I sat out a heavy rainstorm. She called and I just listened. Eventually I returned like a hero and got two of the best flavour pouches for tea.

Prawns. Then beef.

Velvet revolution

I've got a lovely new collar! It's black velvet with real diamonds in it. She gave me a deep massage shampoo, a towel dry, a brush through and a combing and then snapped on the new collar.

There, she said. I know you have a bit of a velvet fetish and this black collar really looks good with your fur. You are the handsomest chap in the garden, you really are.

I quickly looked around the garden. There WERE no other chaps there.

Working in the garden

When she opened the back door this morning, the sun caught my fur and I sprang into action. With no regard for my health, I leapt onto the patio chair and curled up to wait for intruders. But the sun was in my eyes, and I couldn't keep them open. I must have dozed off because when I opened them again, my tummy was growling like a guard dog.

When I looked up, she was standing on a chair cleaning the windows and muttering about 'cat slime and paw marks everywhere'.

I had two breakfasts. Salmon with prawns and a chicken chaser. I saved some of the chicken in my whiskers for later.

Shove thy neighbour

I haven't been sick for three and a half days. My appetite has returned and I am back on top form, demanding three sachets a day and more if I can get it. I am, she said, a 'brave little soldier'.

I went out to patrol the perimeter this morning and met up with one of those loser cats from next door. Twix. What kind of name is that? He caught sight of me, turned on his paws and scarpered. What a milksop.

Doctor and nurses

I feel so FREE and interesting without any fur below. It was hard to explain this to the doctor who lifted up my tail to examine my work.

'It's incredible. It's really symmetrical', he said, admiringly.

'I know', she said, all proud. 'He's done a really good job down there'.

Anyway, if it's so wrong to remove fur from your body, how come the doctor then took me to see two nurses who shaved off all my chest fur?

So, now, my collar and cuffs are matching. Next time I am going to have 'Hammers' shaved into the back of my neck.

No longer a fur bum

I may have taken my bottom fetish to an extreme. I was having my tummy groomed when suddenly she gasped quite loudly. 'Oh my god, Marley. What have you done to your bits and bobs? You've pulled out all your fur. You've given yourself a BRAZILIAN!'

Not wanting to show my ignorance I just lay there. She obviously wasn't referring to football. I was aware that it was quite chilly down below. Now she has told me I have to see the doctor this afternoon to talk through my self harming issues.

That should be fun...

Bum rap

I don't know why, but I am finding my bottom really interesting this week. Every time I have a spare moment, I stick one leg in the air and give the whole area a really good slurping. Mealticket says it's one of the most revolting noises she has ever heard and that if she's forced to watch at the same time, it's as good an appetite suppressant as my projectile puking.

Snacking

I tried some new cheese for supper yesterday. Goat's cheese. Boy, is that stuff tangy and yummy! Mealticket says I am getting more metrosexual by the day.

WAGs

We've been sitting on the sofa listening to her useless team playing in the FA Cup. I settled on her lap, trying to get as comfy as possible despite her twitching and fidgeting. Just as my purr reflex was taking over I felt a bit funny and leaned over the edge of the sofa and puked up all over the carpet. Twice.

Eeeeww. Oh my god, you horrible beast she said. Who do you think you are? Ashley Cole?

Compost corner

I have just thrown up in the garden. Twice. I see it as small revenge for the 'stick him in the compost bin' comment and I know she is planning to go out there with her trowel later. I shall watch out the window to see her reaction.

Happy blah blah blah blah

It's her birthday tomorrow. I have left her a present on the carpet.

The road to recovery

Feeling a little bit better. Just had some lunch and followed it with an exhausting three minute game with the string from today's Abel and Cole vegetable box.

Going for a lie down.

How to make humans happy...

When she got up yesterday she patted my head and then started searching the house for my emissions. She looked everywhere and eventually said Oh, Marley, how lovely. You kept your tea down. Well done baby. Feeling a little better at last? And off she skipped all 'la la la' happy.

She never learns. Just because she can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there...

Spew with a view

I ate some lunch - just a little - and then she put me in the shower and gave me the full works, with shampoo and massage. It wasn't too bad. Now she is watching my every move counting down to the inevitable upchuck. She has just shampooed and steamed the carpet, so it's spreading out in front of me like a wonderful clean canvas. 'School of Jackson Pollock' is what she calls my work... I don't know what it means but it makes me sound educated.

Cats with curves...

She overslept today and I was woken by those enormous fat feet of hers thundering down the stairs. 'Where is it, Marley?' she asked. I heard you throwing up at 2 o'clock in the morning and I hope it's not on the carpet again... oh. It IS on the carpet...'

I sat on my blankie while I watched her on her knees with the kitchen roll and her head turned the other way. 'Honestly, Furbum. This has got to stop. When I called you fat it was just a silly little joke. If you keep going on like this, your fur coat will get too big for you. Those cats you see on Animal Cops - they are SICK Marley. It's not attractive to be that thin.... I prefer a cat with curves...'

And so on.... She's getting dressed now. I am going back to bed. Didn't fancy any breakfast.

Poor me

I've been sick again. I tried to do it on the carpet, but she got to me first and put me outside just as it was coming up. Poorly stomach, constant barfing AND four wet, cold paws...

Cold feet

I am poorly. I had to go to see the doctor this morning. He was an Australian chap - quite nice. She said to him 'I think he is trying to become a size zero. He won't keep his food down and I am worried he might be getting dehide...' something or other. A long word.

The doctor tried to look in my mouth and I clamped my jaw as tight as I could. I can't be that sick as I was stronger than him and he gave up. In revenge he put something in my bottom and then jabbed me with two needles. Then lots of ladies came to look at me in my cage and poked me with their fingers.

That white stuff is still lying in the garden. It's nice to look at it through the window but it's harsh on the paws.

Pester power

Something weird happened overnight. I tried to step outside this morning and sank up to my armpit in cold white stuff. I dashed back indoors and did a pretty smooth four paw flick move to help me dry out.

Of course, she thought this was absolutely hilarious.

Still laughing, she dished up my breakfast and rather worryingly said 'This is the last tin in the cupboard. I'd better nip to the shops'.

Some time later she came home and said 'They are panic buying in Tesco. There's no cat food left, and people are queuing out the door. Oh dear. Looks like your diet is back on'.

Oh, I don't think so. I wailed. I yowled. I wrapped around her legs. I coughed. I let my whiskers droop. Eventually, she crawled into the cupboard under the stairs and came out with a pair of ugly blue boots. 'Right, Marley. I am going to put my wellies on and walk down to Lewisham to see if I can get any cat food. Try to hold on'.

I tucked myself into the spare bed and waited.

Getting the magic back

You never know where you are with this bird. If she's not planning to do away with me, she's kissing the back of my neck and calling me 'lovely little furball'. Last night she cut me three mini cubes of cheddar and let me eat them on the sofa while I was watching Match of the Day. It was a special moment.

I don't care what other people say, Marley, she said, tickling my best ear. You're my best boy. Oh.... eeeeeww. Did you just fart?

Things fall apart

Things are going from bad to worse in our relationship. After overhearing the 'joke' conversation about smothering me with a cushion, I have just heard her on the phone talking to someone. Here are some of the highlights of the conversation:

Well, tell me. Did I want a cat? No. I wanted a dog. And instead I am stuck with this manky, smelly fur shedder with crusty legs. He's using me. That's what it is. He uses me. Ungrateful animal.

Then, suddenly seeing me, Oh, hello old puss. What do you want NOW?

I threw up instantaneously. Twice, on that precious carpet of hers. She had to hang up the phone and get the kitchen roll.

I don't know what I had been eating, but it was green and foamy like ocean spume. I inspected it closely as she was trying to clean up. Not even a mention of a tummy rub. She's lying down now, complaining that 'her appetite has been ruined for the weekend'.

More trauma

When she came home, she opened a box and took out a big loopy thing. Then she got inside it and started wiggling, right in the middle of the living room and with the curtains open too.

Look at me, Marley, she said. I can hula hoop. Oh, no I can't. Oh, yes I can... Oh bother....

And so on as the thing kept clumping to the floor and she kept picking it up and doing more wiggling. Sometimes, it's difficult to tear your gaze away from the most horrible sights.

There's probably an untapped market for this kind of performance, she continued. I could become a star of the silver screen...

I went back to bed.

Threats to my well-being

There was some sort of 'event' on the telly on Tuesday and we had a guest around to watch it. I don't mix well at social events so I slumbered in my basket as they watched the telly, crying, laughing and drinking sparkles. When it was over I heard my name mentioned and perked up my ears a little bit.

Well, they said they would put him to sleep if you took him back to the home, said the guest. We could drop him off now.

Peals of laughter.

Why bother with the expense, my bird said. We could just smother him with a cushion and put him in the compost bin. I opened my eyes and they were both looking in my direction. Then they laughed hysterically again.

Oh, we're only joking, silly socks, she said.

I think alcohol has got a lot to answer for.

Under the weather

I'm right off my food. Yesterday, I managed to sniff away at three different meals and swallow a mouthful or two of each. For politeness.

She gave me a shampoo yesterday, complaining that my fur 'was all matted like a ... like.... well, like a MAT, Marley'. Then she called me Droopy Drawers when she got my legs wet in the shower and laughed at herself.

I was so weak, I couldn't even be bothered to run. I just stood there while she hosed me down and massaged my fur. At some point I may have pretended to be enjoying it and purred. It makes her feel better about herself.

So, I was dried off, brushed up and my collar was put back on. I showed my gratitude by forgetting to use the outside facilities.

On the run

Don't answer the door, Marley, she said when she came flying through the front door with her gym bag bursting and her face all pink. It might be the police coming to charge me with indecent exposure.

Oh, this sounds interesting, I thought, fluffing up the cushion and getting comfortable. She put the kettle on and called in I'll tell you all about it when I have brewed up. Hang on.

Unfortunately, I was exhausted and must have fallen asleep for a few short hours. I've just woken up and she is nowhere to be seen.

Told off

When she came in she went to the kitchen to unpack her bag. I followed her in, keeping a close eye.

Ah, there you are young man. Now, we need to have a grown-up chat, she said. I don't like this new side of you. We all know Ginger Tom is a horrid bully but you shouldn't resort to violence. Particularly a sucker bite to the bum when the referee has already stepped in. It's just not... well, it's just not nice.

She trailed off. Then she piped up again. Now when Barney was here, oh, he could intimidate Ginger with his personality alone. He never resorted to such tactics. Ah, Barney...

I looked at her and saw a big fat tear roll down her cheek.

Yeah, yeah. Did you get any cheese at the shops?

Let's get ready to rumble!

I've just had a massive fight in the garden. That horrid big ginger tom who parades around like the king of the world has taunted me and my pink collar once too often.

I chased him to the end of the garden and as he tried to jump the fence, I launched up and bit his rear end. There was so much noise that she flung open the door and ran up to separate us. Just as she managed to pull us apart, I leapt forward and bit his big fat thigh. When I turned round to look at her, she burst out laughing and then stopped herself quickly.

Bad cats. You go away (to Ginger) and you get indoors now and get that big lump of ginger fur off your top lip. You look ridiculous.

Latin lover

I came downstairs late this afternoon and she was sitting at the table. I did a double take. Yes, she WAS sitting at the table, but there was no food involved. Instead she was writing in a book.

I stared at her lap. She had those black velvet trousers on. They are really cosy.

Well, come on then, she said, patting her lap. Come and sit up here and help me with this Latin homework.

She didn't have to ask twice. Up I jumped and started pawing away. Nice.

Now then, she said. Translate each word and state what is the subject, what is the object, and what is the genitive.

Tee hee, I sniggered. She said genitive.

Something fishy

At long last she left the house and I was able to listen to the football in peace. When she came home she smelt of wine. Again.

I've brought you a present, she said and she waved a box in front of me. When she took the lid off I was astonished to see a big fish head inside. Nigel cooked us a big old salmon for tea and we all put the leftovers into this box for you. Everyone asked how you were and I said you were the furriest loveliest chap in the whole world.

Oh God, she's drunk I thought. She continued:

Yes, and then they all said they felt sorry for me and I should get myself a life and get out more.

Lazy Sunday? I wish...

I've been keeping out of her way this morning. First of all, I tried to get onto her bed to check out the sports pages and she pushed me off and said, Not now, Fat Lad. I have to strip the beds.

So, I went downstairs, and sat in the kitchen to stare at my food bowl. Then she came down, carrying an armful of sheets and stuff and dropped it all on my tail.

Then I went into the lounge and sat in my basket. She went into the cupboard and woke up that horrid Henry who lives there and pushed him around the carpet noisily saying That's right, Clever Paws, just keep sitting there and we will suck you up into the hoover bag.

I didn't fancy that much, so I sat on the stairs and she chased me with a dustpan saying, I wouldn't have to do this Marley if you didn't leave a trail of slime and fur everywhere you go.

Then she scooped up my blankie AND my basket and said Look - both of them are filthy and it's all from you. Do you remember your new year's resolution at all, Mankster?

Did it involve eating more cheese, I asked.

Acting up

She's gone out. Before she went she said, I am out all day today Marley. We are off to Cambridge to the pantomime. I have left you two meals - don't snaffle it all in one go.

Then she started all that running up and down stairs, muttering that weird catchphrase of hers 'where did I put my.....'

Here's what she was wearing:

Shorts, tights, boots, punk rock hoodie, red mittens, fur coat, fluffy collar. Hair all sticky outy. Lopsided make up. Suddenly I realised - she is IN the pantomime.

OMG!

It's all beginning to make sense. She went out with another cat to make me more interested in her and to trick me onto her bed. And it worked.

I feel used.

Sleeping arrangements

I was really pleased to see her when she came home last night. I don't know why. She's probably been drugging my food again. For only the second time in our relationship, we slept the whole night in the same bed.

I let her have the edge nearest the window, while I made do with the very centre. Her pleasure in the arrangement was pitiful.

Pussy Galore

I think she is seeing another cat behind my back. She came home last night, quite late, and we had a little night-time cuddle. She smelt of two things. Cat and wine.

Not only is she being unfaithful, but they go out drinking together. I am going to have to get to the bottom of this.

Sometimes she freaks me out

For some weeks I had taken against my basket. I don't know why. It was just that my blankie seemed better. But for the last few nights, I have started to really enjoy my basket, nestled under the radiator. Last night, I was curled up inside it in a perfect circle and enjoying a few moments of deep sleep.

Suddenly I jumped awake and she was looming over me, with her face really close - just staring.

I was horrified. She said: Oh, sorry Marley. It was just that you stopped snoring almost 20 minutes ago and I just wanted to check that you were still breathing.

I don't snore, you psycho, I said.

It sounds like a steam engine coming through she said, ignorning me.

An embarrassing incident

She was sitting at the table eating (again) and I was looking into the dark garden when all of a sudden I spotted an intruder. A strange black cat was looking back at me. I don't know what came over me but suddenly I went into stealth mode and started to creep towards the door.

She must have looked up because I could sense her excitement. Oooh Marley, I have never seen you stalk before, she said and got up to see who was out there.

As she came closer, she said You silly animal. That is your reflection, Marley.

She opened the door and I dashed out to see off the enemy. There was no-one there. I pretended I just needed a breath of fresh air and sat there, all casual. It was freezing out there, but I pretended to be enjoying it.

I think I had just showed myself up.

Home alone

When I woke up, she had already gone out and her bed was nicely made, with a big plump eiderdown piled on top. I resisted that temptation and went back downstairs to see if she had left me any breakfast. (Cod with some chicken flavoured biscuits sprinkled on the top. Yum).

Now what? I saw her notebook on the table. She's always scribbling away in there, and sniggering to herself. I could just have a little glimpse I thought. I mean, it's not like she had locked it away anywhere. It was out in full view.

So, I climbed onto the chair and read the following:

Some astrologers choose to associate Cancer's physical characteristics with being average or below average height, having a slender small-boned body, short legs and AN INCLINATION TO GAIN WEIGHT.

Oh, I thought. At least I now know roughly when her birthday is.

Birthday honours

So, she was flicking through her 2008 diary and writing things in her 2009 diary when she looked up at me and said:

Poor you Marley. You are a foundling. You don't have a birthday so I can't put it in my diary. No-one even knows how old you are, although the vet did look at your teeth and said you were probably in your late 40s. Older probably. Much older than me certainly.

Not THAT much older.... I am sure I am not that old. I have simply been weathered by my life on the road.

Well, Marley. I am going to rectify this situation, she said. I am going to do some research into zodiac signs and see what best suits your personality.

This, thought I, is a woman with too much time on her hands.

And off she wandered muttering: Search terms.... lazy... dirty... greedy... yeeees...

Who needs needy women?

We cracked open a bottle of red last night and toasted in the new year. She got a bit tipsy and at some point she started pinching my cheeks and saying in a silly voice Look at that ickle choochie face - who couldn't wuv that lickle furry face?

The fireworks were banging outside, but it seemed preferable to staying in at this point. I clawed at the door but she wouldn't let me out so I made a den under the dining table and kept my distance.

Weirdo.