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?