I always wanted to be The cat

Zippy Speedy and Sadie. Spunky and Miguel. Thank you old chums. I shall miss you too, but I will be fine.
I always wanted to be The cat, but there is a Hindu proverb that says: beware of what you wish for you may get it...

I feel better after that...

I've realised I'm not a writer, and I don't want to transpose diaries. Susan didn't see me curled asleep amongst the autumn leaves, the gingery bits of my technicoloured coat in mimicry – a camouflaged cat! So this is the end of the ginger diaries. 'tis just me, THE cat, and this cat has not enough of the orange hue to inflame the author’s words.
I'm trying to be a pet. I've always been cat. I try sitting on the sofa. I try sitting on Susan's lap... But I'm not comfortable, and Susan says I should just be me – more than enough! That makes me purr. I still cry for Lil – stupid of me. I go into the front room where I can be alone, and I howl. I feel better after that...
 So bye-bye from me, and if Lil were here she'd say, well she'd say, “WHAT?” but she'd mean goodbye. And from The Ferdinand, the ginger fur ball, where ever he maybe; cheerio, old chums, bye-bye.

Ferdinand's diary. In no particular order...

I'll copy exerts from Ferdinand's jottings. Change the I to him, and me to Ferdinand – from first to third person. I think he would like that. Plus when it's all typed out he can edit it when— If he returns...
 Anyway, so I'll just jump in: Ferdinand's diary. In no particular order...

I have a cure for swine flu!

Oinkment!

Susan bought me a pressie. It's a mouse in leopard suit! It's full, and refillable, with my drug of choice, catnip! I've tried to pull off its turquoise tail. Who on earth imagined a mouse with spots and a blue tail – probably been snorting the old nepeta cataria themselves.
I’ve chewed its ears. It's still in tact though, as yet. I'll have another go at it later. I was dragging it through the cat-flap when Susan caught me and brought it back in. It doesn’t do anything for the decor.
Human beings eh! What can you do?
I'll show it to Lil later. She loves catnip. Lil loved catnip.

THE cat.

Susan called me THE cat.
She normally calls me, “No Dolly.”
Or, “DOLLY!”
Sometimes, “DOLLY don’t.”
Or simply, “OI!”

Not my fault she has tangles!

I was combing Susan's hair last night – arranging it over the pillow – my claws a comb. It's very soothing to have your hair brushed. Almost as nice as having my ears rubbed – I suppose... Not sure about that ... Anyway, unfortunately, there was a bit of a snag – literally. My deft claw, in velvet glove, hit a tangle! In attempting free myself I suddenly tumbled from the bed and yanked her awake – not a good start to the day but a nice early start – 4.30 am. Not my fault she has tangles!

The reader's digest!

Susan is reading White Tiger. Now I don't believe in false modesty; I am beautiful, but I have to admit tigers are handsome, but a white tiger! Susan says I walk like a big cat, which is a very great compliment. I'm now practising keeping my head still as I walk like the big cats do.
Martin says Susan doesn't read books. She devours them. I do that. I like paper. I sit the other side of the book when she's reading, my eyes just above the top cover.
When Susan has her nose in a book her eyes move from side to side; she looks like she's watching a toy swinging to and fro on a string. I rub the papers. Chomp at the corners of the book. Nibble at the edges. It's fun this reading malarkey.
 Oh, yes. Books are easy to digest.