Today marks the beginning of the Year of the Dog according to the Chinese Calendar - so as you can imagine I'm in a really celebratory mood. Like, hip hip hooray... I don't think so.
Do you realize what this means? For the next 365 days or so, dogs will be gloating under the spotlight of adoring humans all over this part of the world. They'll be spoilt rotten as bringers of good fortune.... Its such a disgusting image - dogs are just bringers of dirt, foul smells and excess saliva. Just the thought makes me feel like coughing up a furball.
It goes without saying that it should really be the Year of the Cat - actually every year would be far more fitting. Much easier to remember and you wouldn't have to humiliate yourself by having to be nice to lower species. But having said all of that, there are two dogs living in my place - there's no way I can avoid this situation.
I really don't have any time for the little rat in pretence of being a dog that calls itself 'Joey'. The light that sparkles in its eyes has nothing to do with intelligence. Its just the first spark of complete and utter insanity that I'm sure will ignite sooner or later.
An... understanding
But the big, lumbering brown one, the one known as Cocoa - well I must reluctantly admit that she's almost cat-like in her intellectual capabilities. We have an... understanding. She is allowed to approach me - and I'm allowed to smack her repeatedly in the face without retaliation.
So reluctantly, with such pain that I was put off my food for about ten minutes, I gave this day to Cocoa, so that at least she could bask in the glory of knowing this entire year was dedicated to her kind - although my generosity will last for just 24 hours - can't be too soft with them you know.
Of course the other compelling reason is that my humans are already rather soft on Cocoa - for some strange reason they treat her like a human child and she complies by being overbearingly cute. You wouldn't catch a cat stooping so low (well not in public anyway).
Cocoa and her 'mother' watch as Dragon dancers announce the Year of the... Dog
So every now and again I have to drag Cocoa back to reality and down to her rightful position in the pecking order before she gets too carried away with all the gooey stuff.
Anyway Happy Chinese New Year, Cocoa. Enjoy it while you can...
One of the best things about having a human...
Good night,J
The Committee (that would be Me - oh okay then... and Twinkie as well), would like to address some confusion over the term 'ownership'. Granted, the word has a variety of meanings - but as the Matriarch of my house, I automatically own everything. And that includes not just material possessions, but also more intangible things, like space, and time, and of course, territory.
Now today let us discuss the concept of space. If you looked up the word 'space' in a thesaurus written for cats, you'd find: 'boxes', 'cupboards', and 'shelves'.
Its difficult to explain to 2-legged ones, the allure of enclosed cardboard. Judging from the expression on the face of my female human when she comes home with a new pair of shoes, I'd say that it compares closely to the anticipation of climbing into a box.
Boxes are Mine - exclusively. Although Twinkie is qualified for a certain degree of access, seeing as she's a member of the Committee.
A box. Mine
Now cupboards present a slightly different issue. My humans are apparently rather sensitive creatures when it comes to cupboards, especially the ones used for their garments. Taking up such luxurious enclosed spaces with these 'clothes' things is a habit that still eludes me. After years of close observation, I have concluded that clothes are necessary for human beings to hide the embarrassment at not being born with an adequate pelt of body hair. Poor things.
Therefore my issue is not with the clothes themselves - in fact they're very comfortable... to sleep and roll on - especially that silk and linen stuff. And handkerchiefs make good headgear.
But these clothes take up, let's say, a third of the available space? So there's no reason why I should not claim the remaining two-thirds - simple logic.
It took a while and some persistence before my humans were eventually made to come to the same conclusion. I used my infamous powers of persuasion on them: now learn my feline friends, learn the power of the "rollover", or the patented "Jellyroll" as I like to call it. This manoeuvre melts even the strongest human defences.
Jellyroll: Mission Accomplished
Neither Twinkie or that fool Monkey have mastered the art - and far be for me to enlighten them.
These things must be learned, gradually, through one's own experiences.
Therefore cupboard space is also mine - and I intend to keep it that way.
Tactic #1: 'I am a figment
of your imagination' 
Tactic #2:
'Yes, can I help you?'
As I've mentioned previously, Twinkie was born in a drain. That's not strictly true. She was found as a kitten in an air-conditioning duct - there was a drain closeby however.
In truth, Twinkie and I have a good understanding... we spend a lot of time together... we are close... oh, alright then - I like her! Satisfied?
Of course she has no breeding in her. But she cannot be entirely blamed for that (I have a suspicion as to the identity of her sire - but I will save my amazing powers of deduction for another time). I've tried to nurture a certain level of etiquette into her, and I must say she's turning out quite better than first anticipated. And her hygiene habits are to be commended.
Still, her level of judgement remains questionable - I can only hope that this will improve with age. Her decision to befriend that horrendous Monkey is not one of her shining moments. And to engage her in stimulating conversation for longer than five minutes is a considerable strain - especially since her usual response to anything is in monosyllables and ever so slightly repetitive:
Twinkie, my dear, any plans for this afternoon's garden excursion? "FOOD!"
What do you think of that new ginger tomcat next door? "FOOD!"
What would you have written as your epitaph? "FOOD!"Is that new brand of cat litter to your liking? "(pause)... erm... Food?
Only one other may share the sacred basket:
Inspite of these few shortcomings I like to think of Twinkie's glass as being half empty rather than half full.
Despite her small, dwarfish, elf-like, stunted, easily ignored stature, she has great potential that girl.
There is a certain order to things. I lead my life in comfortable compartments: sleep, eat, minimal exercise in the garden, sleep, eat and sleep. This system works well for me, and I see no reason to change it. So when that order becomes disrupted by the arrival of an outsider - and to add insult to injury, a member of the opposite sex - this presents a set of problems.
I do not subscribe to this so-called 'equality of the sexes' nonsense. Females are dominant and males provide only one useful function - and even then, only during breeding season. But let's put such base thoughts aside for now. Let me get to the point.
The introduction of the filthy child 'Monkey' to the household was traumatic for us. Even the imbecile dogs were unsettled by its arrival. Sadly my humans failed to forsee the troubles that were to follow - being too simplistic to understand the basic signals I attempted to give them. Honestly only a complete idiot would fail to realize the significance of furniture-scratching and curtain-tearing. Walking upright seems to have lessened the blood supply to human brains - just my theory of course, but one that is constantly supported by their behaviour on a daily basis.
This Monkey is nothing but an urchin. As a kitten his stench was worse than the dreaded shampoo that my female human insists on harrassing me with every fortnight. He has not improved with age.
It must be something to do with maleness. The sheer ecstasy with which he rolls in his own toiletry is an embarrassment to the species. And yet he is smothered by my female human. She showers affection on him as if it were required for his very survival. I don't understand it myself - for goodness sake, he doesn't even have any pedigree blood in him!
Breeding, my friends - its all about breeding. Even if you don't have it, it can be cultured upon willing individuals.
Take Twinkie for instance (and once upon a time I meant that statement, literally). She was born in a drain. Yes, yes I know - you're asking me how on earth could I associate myself with a drain-dweller. But let me explain - although she arrived looking like something the dog dragged in, after two years of careful nurturing by Yours Truly, she's turned out quite nicely, even if I do say so myself. Don't expect an invigorating discussion about the ergonomic benefits of wicker-basket beds from her - but at least she's well-mannered and satisfactorily groomed.
This monkey creature rants and raves and is a veritable nuisance. Even after the joyous occassion of his neutering, (we had great hopes for him at that point), the loss of his reproductive abilities failed to stop his incessant spraying and questionable toilet rituals. And as far as conversation goes, he makes even that lumbering red canine seem positively Abyssinian! The things that my humans expect me to tolerate, I tell you...
Betrayer to our species: consorting with... dogs
Anyway this Monkey creature is now a permanet fixture in MY home. But that is not the end. Oh no. I will have my day.
(PS: It was not my idea to post pictures of this filthy animal - but was compelled to do so to stop my human's non-stop whining)
My name is Jelly, formerly 'Grace' - but that name didn't make much sense, so like any self-respecting feline with Persian ancestry, I had it changed, and paid big money to erase any trace of my previous identity. I own two humans who co-habit my home. I tolerate them. They feed me, and provide amusement by making noise. I am matriarch to two other lesser specimens of Felis catus and two Canids of questionable ancestry and intelligence.
I am a philosopher, a watcher of the world, as it were - and by means of this blog, I will attempt to enlighten you of the view - from my point of view.
My male human specimen assists me in this typing business - far too mundane a task for me to indulge in, you understand.
Today marks the beginning of the Year of the Dog according to the Chinese Calendar - so as you can imagine I'm in a really celebratory mood. Like, hip hip hooray... I don't think so.
An... understanding
