The cold spell

Benjamin , I am in disgrace again. I am living here in the wilds of the North, where people talk in a peculiar way, wear nothing but North Face and Craghoppers and stupid hats like Sherpas,and I am expected to be one of them. It is far too cold to go out.I have been discreet but I have been found out.I now have to remain in the kitchen at night , and SHE keeps manhandling me and putting outside the back door with a simpering 'be a good boy'. How the mighty are fallen!
At least OLD SHE likes me and understands.

The indignity of it all.

Well Benjamin, SHE has really upset me today. Where were you O dear Master to rescue this perisher? HE was on HER side. The others were all on HER side. YOU would have stood up and spoken, other HE would have stood up and spoken, even Win would have stood up and spoken, but not THEM. Look at what SHE did, commiserate with me, write about me on your Facetome wall and get your friends to agree with me -SHE was out of order. See what I mean...

Hodge

Dear Samson, I thought of you and have sent you a picture of another famous cat. WE have just spent a few days in London, and visited some places we have not seen before. We saw this statue of Hodge when we went to Dr Johnson's house. WE hope you are enjoying your stay at the cattery and have plenty to occupy your waking hours. WE are having an interesting and refreshing break. I loved the visit to the Saatchi Gallery, where all the art work was from China. The 'floating children ' are a take on the ceilings of a Christian basilica like St Pauls. HE enjoyed the Guildhall Art Gallery, and thinks HIS SISTER IN LAW HER would enjoy the Pre-raphaelite paintings and the Roman Ampitheatre excavations. WE both used our over 60's bus passes to advantage. We have ridden to Tottenham and Lewisham and all places in the City of London. The loos in Tescos in Tottenham were disgusting, and by far the best ones were in the Guildhall A G . WE went to Handel's 'Messiah' in St Pauls Cathedral. The tickets were free as announced on their website, but the programme suggested a voluntary donation of £10.
The picture of beige buildings was an exhibit in the Saatchi made entirely of dog chews.

The church here is 'St Lawrence , Jewry'. It was beautifully maintained and all the woodwork polished to perfection. But I hold this against you as ST John of Patmos would say'you have deserted your first love'. No one walking off the street and in search of a Saviour would find any mention of Him.

WE are missing you and look forward to seeing you on Wednesday.

I have done the things I ought not to have done..

I am in disgrace again. I have been into Upper Story again. All those waiting around tactics, looking nonchalent , bored even seem to have had the desired effect. Except it has gone disasterously wrong. SHE left the white door open this morning. SHE always forgets something when SHE goes out. Sometimes it is her glasses, sometimes her lipstick, sometimes its her correct footware. Mostly something like the aforementioned, something totally unimportant and trivial. Today however SHE got it just right , or should that be wrong. SHE forgot her Vanishing Cream. In her supreme effort to protect her skin from the harsh cold wind, the snow flakes and the ravages of time she was lax, and forgot to shut the white door.
I made a move, silent , surreptitious and stealthy. Where did I go what did I find , how far did I get? Not far I'm afraid , just to that room with all those books. HE found me within minutes as he went to put on a third vest . I now have a taste for adventure. I am waiting around, looking nonchalent, bored even.....

Filmgoer

I am going to the pictures now. Well you know what I mean, there is a correct term for what I mean, cinema or moving pictures, you may choose. I have heard that some of the old ones are the best. So here I am. I have been watching this film for ages, I tried to join in with it but it would not let me in. I am under 18 of course, and THEY are a law abiding household.

Little Hims

I like this little HIM.

Cloth of Gold

THEY are not amused with the hair on the sofa. THEY wont let me sit where I want to. It is an infringement of my feline rights. I am going to write to my MP. I should be able to go where I like, freedom of movement it is called. I do so much for THEM after all. I am decorative, give hours of conversation starters, cheap to feed, do all my own washing, and grace their evenings with my presence. And what do THEY do? They run off and get a sticky roller , move me out of the way, and roll the sofa. Honestly is is worse than those afternoon adverts HE sees everyday for Bobble Gone. I do quite like the cloth of Gold THEY have found for me to lounge on .