Sleeping off the heat

Things have been fairly quiet, over the last few weeks, here at club Kidd. The heat has been unbearable at times, and although neither cat has really struggled, as much as us humans have, they have opted for a much lazier pursuits.

That doesn’t mean, however, that life here has been mischief free. Kyla, for example, was horrified when she was shut out of her favourite spider hunting ground. So, in order to prevent such reoccurrences, decided to block the doorway with one of her toys. Kidd, who had temporarily lost his favourite toy, laid claim to the new feather effort brought from a cat show. Being the alpha male, anything that belongs to Kyla belongs to the both. And anything that belongs to Kidd is his alone. Therefore anytime Kyla goes any where near the thing, the red wonder, appears from no where and snatches it off her, before marching indignantly away with it firmly in his mouth. Leaving poor Kyla wondering what the hell his problem is.

Mind you she has also learnt to get her own back, by sitting, rather proudly, on the top video shelf above the TV. Kidd still can’t jump that high, so is forced to sit and watch her while she struts about tormenting the hell out of him.

Kidd has also reached his first milestone. The 12^th August was his first birthday, so my baby boy is no longer a kitten, but a full-grown monster. He has decided that now he is all grown up, he needs to conserve his energy and is insisting on being carried around. It was so not a good idea to teach him to jump. I now have eight impressive scratch marks that go straight down my back, where the little darling jumped because I was trying to cook dinner and had put him down five times already. He of course was having none of it a leapt while my back was turned. Two guests to our home, neither of them cat people, now bear Kidd marks where he decided to introduce himself. Well if they will ignore him, what do they expect.

In Loving Memory Boleyn.

My beautiful Princes, with a soul too gentle for this world. We miss you MoBo.

Damage control

Firstly I would like to congratulate both Mum and our breeder Kat, but most importantly Kyla herself. Who, as of last Saturday, became Grand Premier Schimmel Chilli Tequila.

And secondly I would like to apologise to Kidd, who is furious with me for announcing that he was being good. He says that I have ruined his reputation and he may never be able to hold his head high in Oriental society again. Much less ever face his Schimmel brethren. He has therefore been on damage control for the last week.

Nothing has been safe from his aggrieved paws. If it moves when you pat it, it’s fair game. This includes pens, tweezers, credit cards, even a packet of chewing gum. All have come crashing off the edge of units. For no other reason than they were just there and he felt like it.

The most dramatic item to take a tumble from it’s place of rest, was Mum’s hearing aid. And it’s not just a run of the mill NHS thing either. But a rather expensive, digital type gizmo. She’d taken it out to make a phone call and had left it on the bed. Alone in the house, she didn’t notice at first that it was missing. By the time she’s started to realise something was wrong, the phantom paws had struck. It took three of us to find it, pulling half the bedroom apart in the process. To be fair to Kidd, the evidence against him is only circumstantial. Ok he has developed a strange fascination with the small device. Yes he rarely misses an opportunity to play with them, if they are left lying around unguarded. But no one saw him near them the day they went missing. And the fact that he went looking for it the following day, in the exact same place that it was found, is a complete coincidence.

Kyla, not to be out done, followed this behaviour up with a trick of her own. From the moment she arrived Kyla has appointed herself our toilet monitor. She insists on following anyone and everyone into the bathroom, no matter what their purpose. She regards her self appointed role very seriously and is enraged if anyone has the audacity to lock her out. Those of us who have to live with her have given in to inevitable and allow her to join us.

The other morning, while I was getting ready for the day, Kyla was sat on the window sill, tapping the window. I don’t know why she does it, but she does it almost daily. It keeps her amused and on the whole out of trouble, so I let her get on with it.

I was sat, contemplating the meaning of life, Kyla happily patting away. When suddenly there was a crash and a brown tortie, her claws attached to the net curtain, came swinging out over the sink, kicked off from the wall above the cistern. And landed rather clumsily into the litter tray, before streaking out of the door. Anything that had been on the window sill was strewn across the bathroom. Kyla said she was far to embarrassed to talk about what had happened, but if I could kindly tidy up the mess and never mention it again, she would be very grateful. Ops!

Cuddly Monster.

Firstly I would like to apologise for my lack of entries over the last week. The reason for this is quiet simple. Kidd has decided to turn over a new leaf. Maybe Kyla’s latest escapade has intimidated him. Or maybe it’s just too hot to be naughty. Who knows? Whatever the reason my little red monster has turned into the most obedient, cuddle monster you could wish to meet.

He has learnt a few new tricks, the most impressive of which is coming when he is called. No matter where he is in the house, the minute you call his name he comes running. Arriving at my feet, purring his head off, waiting for me to pick him up and make a fuss of him.

Because he has a reputation as a bit of a bully boy, Kyla gets fed her favourite fishy treats, every night, on her own. Just Mummy and her. Kyla is now so used to this nightly ritual that she will insist, or more correctly demand, that Mummy should go to bed so that Miss Woo can have her treats now! She jumps up onto the chair, gets right into her Mums face and literally shout NOW! At the top of her voice. Kidd will follow on the off chance that Nanny will not know that he is there. Or may be so bowled over by his hansom charms that she will give in, and maybe he will be able to get his paws on some dehydrated fishy goodness. Not that it has ever worked but you can’t blame a kitten for trying.

The other night we were all amazed and impressed when after having gone trotting into the bedroom and sitting hopefully on the bed. He obediently came running the moment I called him. Mind you both Kidd and I do have a confession to make, and Kidd’s obedients is not quiet so impressive when you find out that I know where the treats are kept. Therefore when Kyla is enjoying her personal time with her Mummy, The boy is enjoying some sneaked treats of his own. And as every cat knows, stolen goodies are so much better than anything handed to you on a plate.

His other new trick is he has finally learnt to jump. Bless him he still hasn’t developed the physical prowess of his aunty Kyla, but he can at least now reach arm height. All we need to do know is to teach him to wait for permission before launching. My back bears the scars of many an unannounced landing by his kitenship. And only the other night the poor chap got knocked across the room as I swung my arm out, unaware at the time that there was a red flying feline coming my way. Unfortunately both arm and kitten collided. Thankfully apart from his pride he survived the accident unscathed.

Role change.

Kyla in her kitten days, was as naughty as she was cute. And trust me she was very cute. However as she has grown from baby sweet to lady beautiful, her naughty days have decreased.

Although thinking about it I don’t think that is necessarily true. When she was a kitten she had a best Siamese friend called Boleyn. Bo was a totally stunning blue tortie whose only flaw was she knew just how stunning she was. But unlike most torties, she was also very well behaved. O she had her moments but most of the time she was an obedient, loving, beautiful, princess. Kyla therefore in comparison was a naughty mischievous tomboy. When Bo died Kyla quickly slipped into the spoilt child role and entertained us for hours. Then of course we got Kidd. Nothing in the world could have prepared us for the red devil. And now alas Kyla has either chosen to be the more staid grown up one, or has simply been out naughtied by our Master of Mayhem.

However, and isn’t there always a however?. The other morning she decided to out do herself. Things started off well. The litter tray having finally been removed from the room, saves this story from starting off in the usual smelly fashion. And after a well ignored game of human target practice, both cats and I had enjoyed a nice morning snuggle. But when I got up, so did Kyla and she had been doing more than just snoozing the morning away. Apparently she had been hatching a cunning plan to command my whole attention, for at least most of the day.

The first port of call was of course the bathroom. I set about my morning routine; she started on destroying most of the bathroom. Her first aim was the windowsill. Now I know she can leap from floor to window in one bound, but on that day she chose to go the most complicated and clumsiest way she could. Namely over me, across the back of the cistern, across the sink and then up onto the windowsill. Naturally everything in her path was knocked to the floor, and the more things she could throw into the litter tray (yes we have one in the bathroom too) the better. Including the bar of soap, which was then covered in gravel! She then starts on the only thing that she hasn’t knocked over, the toothbrush stand. Thankfully it was not my brush that she decided to have a chew on. I’m not going to say who’s it was, but they may find it has a slight taste of fishy treats next time they use it!

Washing done, I then decided to check my emails etcetera. Still not finished Kyla came bouncing into the room, made a beeline for the computer, bounced of mid login (hence turning it off) and landed on the top of the cat tower looking rather smug. The cheeky cow then watched as I tried to log back in, and then descended from the tower onto the keyboard, yet again turning the thing off, before disappearing to the safety of another room.

The next time I caught a brown tortie streak heading in my general direction I was ready for her. However she had a new evil plan brewing, and ran straight past me and straight up the brand new curtains. Where she hung for a few seconds, until I shouted at her to come down. At which point she shouted at me back and calmly abseiled down.

The whole time Kidd was sat in my arms, watching Kyla with a look of complete awe and total admiration.

Dumping fiction

I was on a later shift today and was really looking forward to a nice lay in. Stupid really I should have known there is no such thing for an Ori slave.

At 5am a certain red dropped his favourite toy in my hand and continued to pat both toy and hand hopefully. There is no point what so ever throwing the thing off the bed, as Kidd believes it is all part of the fun and just brings it back. So as I was not in any type of mood to play with him, heartless mummy that I am. I just tried to ignore him. When he got no response out of me he decided to goad Kyla into a game of chase.

I swear those two have made some kind of game board out of my duvet. They score points for every imaginary circle they can bounce on. It’s like sleeping, or trying to, in the middle of a feline target practice. Of course extra points are added for landing on a human.

I must have gone back to sleep as I was suddenly aware it had all gone quiet, so I opened my eyes and carefully looked around for them (you don’t ever want to admit that you actually awake, because that means it’s time for breakfast, no matter how early it is!) There they were looking like butter wouldn’t melt both curled up on my pillows fast asleep. Relieved I settled back down for some peaceful shuteye myself.

And then there was a thud. I have no idea how long I’d been asleep or where our two monsters were, as they had long gone by they time I opened my bleary eyes. But sat in the litter tray was the hardback book I'm currently reading, half the contents of the tray on the floor and the bookmark across the other side of the room. Thankfully the litter was clean this time! Which is why I decided to leave it there and return to my slumber.

You can imagine my horror when some time later I was woken again to the sound of litter digging. When I jumped up I discovered Kidd in the tray, still not used, trying to cover up the book with what little litter was remaining. Goodness only knows what he thought it was. Probably the biggest turd he’d ever seen! More to the point, who did he think had left it there? Certainly Kyla and his bottoms are far to dainty to produce such a weighty piece of fiction. And it certainly wasn’t me. Maybe a lion crept in and dumped in they’re tray before rudely leaving without covering up his masterpiece.

Jumping Jack, not so, flash

Kyla has been a jumper since the day she got here. She very quickly discovered that if she ran up your back she could then ride around on your shoulders. As she has grown up she has become more and skilled at shoulder riding and it is now possible to complete any daily tasks with her draped around the back of your neck.

It does have it’s draw backs however as she very rarely waits for permission before launching herself. A cat landing on you when you least expect it can be quite a shock. She may be small but she is all muscle, and when she launches herself unexpectedly like that she nearly knocks me flying, especially when you have your hands full at the time.

Kidd has been watching his aunty Kyla and has tried to copy her. But doesn’t quiet have her finesse. The problem is two fold. Firstly he has either not learned or is too lazy, to pull himself up once he has landed on his victim. And were Kyla can leap from floor to shoulder in one elegant move, Kidd can only manage to reach stomach height, were he just kind of half heartedly hangs until you grab hold of him. Again most of the time that is not a problem, and having had a flying tortie smack me square on the side of the head a number of times, I actually prefer it. It’s when he decides to land on my back that the fun starts. The very fact that I have back to him means that I don’t see him coming until he lands. And trying to grab hold of him is quite difficult. The best way is to put your hand behind your back. Where he happily sits for hours riding around the house, peaking over my right shoulder, until either I need my hand back or it goes to sleep. I’ve tried to swing him around to the front. But he just clings on. I also tried just leaving him hanging but he just looks feeble and totally dejected when he finally falls off.

But I really shouldn’t complain. Can you imagine the fun of having two jumpers and shoulder riders in the house? As it is Kidd will nip Kyla’s ankles if he is in my arms and she is on my shoulders. I really don’t want two fully grown cats fighting it out either side of my head!

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