Ferdinand: I hate Mickey mouse!

"It'll be just the mince pie and the glass of port for Santa then?"
"Yes."
"Mickey doesn't believe in Santa's cause?"
"No."


Ferdinand: I hate Mickey mouse!

Ferdinand's Christmas eve, eve, eve

It's Christmas eve, eve, eve! AND, here is my hand signed, Christmas card from Richard Madeley -with love and kisses- does life get much better?

I must remember to leave out the glass of port and mince pie, but as a very very special treat a Mickey will also be left for Santa. I'm sorry but the gloves are off and the claws are out - all in a good cause of course! The Santa cause.

Ferdinand: supreme hunter.

Ferdinand's Silent night!

Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh,
O Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way.......

"Lilly It's two in the morning!"
"Sorry Ferd."

Good King Wenceslas looked out, On the Feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even;
Brightly shone the moon that night,
though the frost was cruuuuuuuuueeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeel.

"Lil It's three in the morning, please!"
"Ferd, sorry."
"Ok Lil, just need to get some sleep."
"Sorry."

You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear
voices singing, "Let's be jolly!
Deck the halls with boughs of holleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

"Dolly, Holly. LILLY. It's half an hour after the last song, ONLY 30 minutes."
"Ferd I forgot, sorry."

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,
"Yes Lil i'm listening."
in the lane, snow is glistening
"I don't care what the weather forecast is."
A beautiful sight,
"Not if I don't get my beauty sleep!"
we're happy tonight,
"Happy? happy!"
walking in a winter wonderland.
"It's a nightmare."

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to knowoooooooooohoooooooooooooh
Where the treetops glisten
and children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snooooooooooowoooooo.

"It's four, Lil! Four in the morning."
It's four in the morning, the end of Decembeeeeeeeer
I'm writing you now just to see if you're betteeeeeeer
New york is cold, but I like where I'm liviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing
"Lil, STOP."
"Leonard Cohen. You asked me to sing it."
"LIL."
"What?"
"Night Lil."
"Night Ferd."

So here it is merry Christmas
Everybody's having fuuuuun
Look to the future now
It's only just beguuuuuuuuuun

"Lilly."
"Ferd."
"I want a Silent night!"


Silent night! Holy night!
All is calm, all is bright
round yon virgin mother and child,
Holy infant so tender and mild,
sleep in Heavenly peeeeeeeeeace!
sleep in Heavenly peeeeeeeeeeeace!

Ferdinand: add to Christmas shopping list: EARPLUGS

Ferdinand's stockings

"How come your stocking is bigger than ours?"
"Because my name has more letters in it."
"Oh!"

Ferdinand diplomat: or how not to put your foot in it!

Ferdinand's premiere night

click on image

"I would like all my chums to accept complimentary tickets for... Lil, say it Lil."
"What?"
"Your line?"
"What?"
"Your line Lil" Your Line."

"I don't know why I can't read the line?"
"Because Lil's voice carries, that's why."
"Lil your line! Your Line"
"No need to shout."

"And so, without further ado, may I present to you the premiere of, the fantastic, the fantabulous, Ferdinand's Fantastic Flea Circus."

"I could have done that."
"You have a voice like a hamster."
"How'd I do!"
"Great Lil."
"What."
"Great."
"You were ok, loud anyway."
"What?"
"Loud."


"Oi you lot at the back shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."
"What?
"Lil Shhhhh."
"What?"

"Oi! You Lot! shhhhut up"
"What?"
"Lil be quiet."
"What, what?"
"shhhhhhhhhhhhh."
" Who are you shhhhhhhhhhhhhhing?"
"Lilly be quiet."
"Don't tell me to be quiet, Ferdinand tell Dolly to stop telling me to sshhhh."
"Dolly stop telling Lil to shhhh."

"Oh you want her to talk all the way through the movie?"
"No, but..."
"Lilly be quiet."
"What?"

" Right you lot I've asked you nicely and I've told you -not so nicely- and now I'm telling you to leave."
"BUT..."
"I'm..."

"Quietly!"

Ferdinand's first night."

Christmas greetings from Ferdinand and friends

We're not sending Christmas cards this year! It's either 'cos we're mean wotsits or we're sending the money we would have spent here: see!

We' d like you to use our card too,
a Christmas card from us to you.
Dont get your tongue stuck up with glue
It's free and all that you have to do...
Is send fifty pence or a dollar here

"Doesn't rhyme!"
"I know!"

... Is send .50p or a dollar, thank you!

"How's that?"
"Perfect."
"I've a line."
"Ok."
From Me, Ferd, Lilly, Martin and Sue.
"Doesn't scan."
From us and Martin and Sue!
"Nope!"
From me and you and Lilly too.
"What about the humans of the household?"
Plus Martin and sue
"No."
"Sue..."

Ferdinand not Scrooge!

"...oooH"
"No."
"..."
"No!"

Ferdinand ball juggling

Ferdinand is in his box. I can hear him but I can't understand a word he's mumbling about. He's got that green bucket on his head. But I know he's been out of the bucket because he's been writing... And I paid my 50p to keep him in there! I just don’t believe a word he says, he's a confabulaytir! Just check the spelling on that confabulator. That's better. Ferdinand reckons he doesn't use spell checker...!

This is what he's written.

Mmmm a very famous flea circus director is impressed with my three ball juggling flea -perhaps he will hire her, I think it's Flora but it could be Fifi.
Maybe he'll hire the whole circus, we could be on television, the silver screen, Hollywood...

I'm a bit worried though; he reckons they have sugar in their diet- they are a bit hyper but it's me that feeds them. So there is only one conclusion to be drawn, I have Diabetes. I will go blind my hair will fall out and my balls will drop off.

I avoid vets, one look at me they forget any ailments I'm suffering - leg hanging off, ear shredded, tail broken in half- it's... "Oh look a fully intact ginger tom cat, soon sort that little problem. Nuts away...!"
"Little indeed!"

One Eyed Jack
The Meezers

Who have excellent taste and appreciate concept art and it's best.

Now this rambling of Ferdinand's is incomplete. So he's either worried about his health- he's a terrible hypochondriac- last week he thought he had malaria the week before bubonic plaque (they are all insect bitten diseases so I think his subconscious is trying to tell him something -like: get rid of the little blood suckers.
Or it's dawned on him he's not the forward thrusting ideas Smith he thought he was 'cos only two chums think the photograph idea a good one. I did tell him it was stupid but no he has to publish.

But none of this explains the flashing lights coming from his box...

Signed Dolly, editor.

Ferdinand's big idea! The photograph challenge

"What you doing Ferd?"
"I have an idea..."
"Well you better get writing that is newsworthy."
".... so I'm taking photos."
"Let me see."
" You can do this too."
"What?"
"It is a record of we felines, a document and archive. It is the world as we see it. Not of us in sinks and wearing silly hats."
"I've taken my photo and now you take yours."
"Ok, a picture of what I see now?"
"Yep."
Snap!

"Lil won't be able to do it."
"She would."
" You'd only have a picture of the back of the sofa."
"That, oh striped, one is the point."

"Fascinating."
"Is there just a hint of sarcasm in your tone."
"Nooo!"
"But anyway what if all my chums around the world took a snap at the same time on the same day?"
"It wouldn't work."
"Why, oh striped one?"
"Because half the world will be asleep!"
"Local time, at 5pm for example wherever you are and whatever you are doing you snap a snap. Just got to choose the day."


"How come you get a picture of yourself on your journal?"
"'Cos that is what you were looking at, me!"
"But that is only 'cos you said take the photo and I was looking at you."
"Well it is whatever you are looking at."
"See here's the snap I took."
"Feet!"
"Yep I was on Susan's (female human of the house-hold) lap and this is what I was seeing."
"I don't think this is very exciting, feet and a great big ginger head."
"No the feet aren't interesting, but the head very very photogenic -you do take a very good picture- but anyway the photo is a record of what I was looking at so I'll know that at 5 o'clock I was having my ears rubbed while sitting on Susan's lap. A historic document cats year and years from now will..."

Ferdinand archivist

Ferdinand, Fanny, Faye, Fiona, Fifi, Flora and Frederick

"Ferdinand."
"Oh Ferdinand."
"Ferdinand!"
"What?"
"Ferdinand we're hungry. Ferdinand we have been sitting in this jar for days without a drop to eat or drink."
"Well...!
"Ferdi?"
"Yes?"
"We are sooooo very very peckish."
"Ferdi you look very handsome."
"Very full-bodied."
"A red blooded male no less."
"A real hunk."
"Excuse me but are all of you lot female fleas?"
"Ferdinand let us introduce ourselves."
"Fiona; hello Ferdinand. "
"And I'm Fifi."
"I'm Faye."
"Fanny here. "
"And I'm Flora."
"Aha thought so! I sometimes count six but you all fidget so much!"
"...And this is Frederick."
"Hi Ferd."


"Ferdinand. You're our agent we require...! And a decent place to live. 70% of the profits...! Top billing...! And...! And ...! Also.....! And in addition...! We also want... and want... want, want, WANT!"
"Sign here! "
"What you want is blood...!"
"Ferdi, you got it in one."
"Blood suckers."
"A truism!"
"Bleed me dry you will!"
"Mmm. Yummy, we wish," Fanny, Faye, Fiona, Fifi, Flora and Frederick said in unison.


Ferdinand, agent to the famous! (not all it's cracked up to be!)

Ferdinand losing and gaining friends!

I'm keeping my five friends in a jam jar. None of them have harness' on - cos I trust them!

There's one.
Two.
Keep still.
One, two and three.
Stop jumping about.
One and two and three... and there four.
So that's four.
Definitely four could be five, they all look the same!

One, two, three, four and five, six.
Six?
What you doing in there?
One, two.....

Ferdinand mathematician

Ferdinand's Fantastic Flea Circus

There is a can of flea spray in the kitchen with my name on it. I am to lose my thousand new friends. But not all...!

No! For I'm in my box but thinking outside of it. 5 of the chosen and talented few are to reach the dizzying heights of fame and fortune

Theirs is to be a life of renown and celebration.

And so, without further ado, may I present to you with my felicitations, the fantastic, the fantabulous, Ferdinand's Fantastic Flea Circus.




Ferdinand: ringmaster and animal trainer

Ferdinand stuck in a bucket!

"Ferdinand?"
"Yes!"
"Why have you got a bucket on your head?"
"Because I couldn't find a bandage!"
"Oh, that's made it perfectly clear."
"Then you're lucky."
"What?"
"You're lucky that it's been made clear! Lil can't hear and I can't see."
"Well you would be able to see if you took the bucket off your head!"
"That -oh Dolly- is just it, I can but I won't! You -oh striped one- are lucky you can read this blog...!"
"I'm lucky to read your ramblings?"
... and I'm lucky because I can take this bucket off my head if I want to."

"Are you going to buy me a Christmas card this year?"
"Might be."
"I have got 50p left in my Friskies account after the soiree."
"Oh I see, this is some round a bucket way of saying you're not going to buy me anything!"

"Have you got any money?"
"Oh! now I get it you want a loan."
"No."
"I'm not giving you my money."
"I don't want it! I want you to give 50p..."
"You just said..."



Help to give this baby back his sight If every reader of The Sunday Times Magazine spared 50p this Christmas, half a million children could be saved from going blind, and a million more people could have their sight restored.

There are 37m blind people worldwide, and 75% of this blindness is either preventable or reversible. The Standard Chartered / Seeing is Believing initiative aims to make a difference to the lives of 10m people by 2010. For every £1 given by readers of Times Online and The Sunday Times, Standard Chartered Bank will also give £1, up to a maximum of £2.5m


"Oh I see!"
"See, you're lucky!"

"Ferdinand if I give you 50p or 1 dollar will you be quiet and take the bucket off your head? No, scrub that! Be quiet and leave the bucket on your head and I will give 50p... A good deal, better than any Christmas card!"


Ferdinand stuck in a bucket!

Ferdinand and If

"Morning all."

"Hi Ferd you feeling better?" Susan (female of the household) croons, "ah look at you two, Dolly you kissing Ferdi better?"
"You seen my nail Ferdinand? Broken to the quick." Dolly said waving her paw in my face.

"She's been so worried about you Ferdi."
"You're up then? Well it is Monday morning!" Dolly hissed.
"It is very exhausting being a party planner."
"Bloomin' exhausting! Party planning?" Dolly said as she scratched her ear. "What about all the cleaning?"
"Cleaning? Place is spotless."

"Spotless, spotless!" Scratching.
"You great ginger twit." Scratch, scratch.
"Dolly you got fleas?" Susan asked.
"Yes from Jim the grave yard cat."
"Well you were very close." I proffered by way of explanation.
What, I... you...Electra, I'm ~(*&’# speechless! You ginger. You ginger!..." Scratch, scratch.
And she bopped me on my nose -which is just in recovery from the bite of that bad tempered Micky.
"Dolly! Stop it! You know Ferd isn't well!"
Scratch, scratch.
"Umhh, what you need is some flea spray."

"Come on Doll."
"What? No! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeas eeeeeeeeese, he's a cad, the lazy blighter. Er, no! noooooooooooooooo! Yuk, Yuk."

"Just look at the state of me Ferd."
"Well you certainly will be flealess -friendless too! tee hee!"
And do you know what? She promptly bopped me on the nose again!
"Dolly will you stop hitting Ferdinand? Poor Ferdi, come and have a little cream. I won't spray you today as you're not yourself."

"I don't believe it, I get covered in chemicals he gets cream, I get a broken nail he gets thank you messages. It's not fair! Horrible big ginger rat, yes Ferdinand, I said rat!"

Don't know what's up with Dolly? females eh! God luv em!



IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too,......

......Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a man, my son!

Ferdinand and Rudyard Kipling

Ferdinand ginger cat's email from Richard Madeley

Well what a night!
Fantastic!
Oh yes, what a perfect host I am, and surprisingly we didn't make much mess at all. No, we furry felines lived up to our well deserved reputation for cleanliness. Apart from that little stain on the rug where Lil threw up. A nice saucer of warm milk was left just outside my box... a perfect end to a perfect night.

AND, AND Richard Madeley. Yes! and just to prove it here's his email. Fantastic. I'll have to do it again. I don't know why beings moan about the hardwork -all that clearing up etc, well they're just not naturally fastidious I suppose -we cats are inheritantly spotless - well apart from the leopard- tee hee! Just a little joke there, I'm so lighthearted. Oh dear! ha ha! tee hee!


Oh what a perfect day!

...Oh it's such a perfect day,
I'm glad I spent it with you.
Oh such a perfect day.....

... Just a perfect day,
Problems all left alone,
Weekenders on our own.
It's such fun.
Just a perfect day,
You made me forget myself....

...Oh it's such a perfect day,
I'm glad I spent it with you.
Oh such a perfect day.....



Ferdinand: Wit and friend to the famous.

Ferdinand: still in his box !

"I don't think Ferdinand is very well, he's still in his box...!" (Susan female human of the household.)
"Perhaps he ought to go to the vet....!"
"He's hung over, a glutten and a rake," Dolly mewed as she rubbed Susan's leg.
"Ah Doll' you worried about him?"
"No he's a lazy blighter, it was me and Lil did all the cleaning while he did the canoodling with Electra."
"I'll give him some warm milk when he wakes up. ."
"What? it was me that broke a nail moving all those boxes."
"... see if he can be tempted."
"Oh! he can be tempted alright."
"Now come on Dolly let's leave him sleeping for now we'll check on him later..."

Ferdinand: still asleep, and dreaming of a bowl of warm milk!

Ferdinand, Bohemian Rhapsody and big Lil singing

"Ferdi."
"Ferdi."
"Ferdi."
"Ferdi."
"Ferdi."
"Er, ow, my head, Lil."
"Ferdi."
"Lil not quite so loud."
"What?"
"Shhhhh."
"What?"
"ouuuuuuw ch."
"What?"
"Lil my head."
"Still there Ferdi on top of your body, still orange,well a bit green, well very green matches your eyes."
"Lil haven't you a radiator to sleep on."
"What?"
"Lil go away!"
"Ferd just wanted to say thank you, for my pearls and the lobster and and .."
"LIL!"
"...letting me sing."
"Lil! ooooohouch. Lil Go."

"I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouch, scaramouch will you do the fandango
Thunderbolt and lightning - very very frightening me
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo, Gallileo,
Gallileo Figaro - magnifico......"

"Lillllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllly."

"... Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters - nothing really matters to me..."

"Great Lil."
"Shall I do it again?"
"No!"

"Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
A little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me..."

"Oh groan."

Ferdinand not feeling too good and serenaded by Big lil singing Bohemian Rhapsody!

Boogie on down Ferdie

Ferdinand ginger cat's banquet

I'm a little behind!
"A big behind."
"A little behind with the main course."
"You seen Lil?"
"NO."

"You been at the cream?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Sure, I'm sure."

Have you met Dolly?

Welcome

Ferdinand ginger cat and big Lil

Umh LIL! LIL LIlly!
Lilly!
Lil is not ready yet.

Ferdinand ginger cat is prepared

Well I'm done, I'm prepared. I just now need to attend to me. I'm sooooooooooooo excited.

Dolly is ready already and is permanently stationed in front of the mirror, she's now checking her smile, ooh now a little twirl.

Oh groan she's blowing kisses to herself.

I can't watch much more of this! I'm off to my ablutions.

Ferdinand's soiree

Ferdinand ginger cat's menu

Ferdinand: accommodation for my guests.

I have been remiss! I have chums from far and wide arriving at my abode but I hadn't offered accommodation, so my sixth file
Things I forgot to do but are now done file.

Accommodation; brand spanking new boxes, perfect.Ferdinand: interior designer and cardboard box arranger.

Ferdinand party planner.

I am absolutely filthy. I have been rummaging in the shed for a red carpet. I can't find even a red tablecloth. We have royalty coming and I want to roll out the red carpet for his kingliness.
I shall put this in the to be sorted file.

I've almost planned the menu.
This can go in the nearly done file.

I've ordered my bow tie. I am going to buy Dolly a diamante choker (she has been ogling it for weeks and she likes bling) Big Lil is going to wear pearls -she doesn't know but I think they will suit her very well.
So this can go in the sort of sorted file.

I have my hand delivered invitations to give out.
I'm not sure if Billy the barge cat's barge is moored so I'll have to nip over the canal and have a look.
There's Jim the graveyard cat- his language is a bit ripe but he's good fun.
There's Digby -mind you he is very good looking -umh I'll decide about him later.
And last but definitely not least Electra. Her of the blue eyes and grey body, the lithe limbs, the soft voice, for her they're will be sapphires...
So this can go in the still to be done file.

I have started to spray so all my chums can easily find us. Eau de naturelle tom cat. I did get over excited and accidentally sprayed the sheets hanging on the washing Line, will I ever be forgiven? Susan female human of the household? (no problem) Martin? ( male human of the household) no! but he's away at the moment managing a paddling pool so no worries there. But can I forgive myself? that is the tough one (umh oh alright then.)
Right so this can go in the done but more to do file.

I have five files with stuff in, so much to do so little time to do it. Good job I'm organized, a natural planner, a party planner.

Ferdinand : party planner the host with the most.

Ferdinand ginger cat's invitation

I am going to give a little dinner for all members of the catblogosphere and catnip anonymous society, well not a little dinner, a big dinner, umh!
I am going to hold a banquet, no! I am hosting a banquet- a big banquet. Umhh room for a little improvement perhaps.
I am hosting a soiree on the evening of the 24th November! That's it. Umm!

A soiree on the evening of the 24th of November hosted by Ferdinand ginger cat. Better.
A soiree is to be held on the 24th of November hosted by the ranconteur Ferdinand ginger cat. Better still.

A soiree is to be held on the 24th of November hosted by the ranconteur and bon vivant Ferdinand ginger cat. Ummh almost perfect.

A soiree is to be held on the 24th of November hosted by the ranconteur and bon vivant Ferdinand the most handsome ginger cat. Perfect.

I shall spend the week working out the menu. Dolly- oh striped one- can be hostess and serve the courses -if she can be trusted to keep her whiskers away from the cream jug, which I doubt! Perhaps I could lock her out - not give her an invitation. No she'd only rattle on the door handle and dribble on the glass.

Big Lil can sing, she has a very good voice, well it's loud and it does carry, she has been practising bohemian rhapsody- mostly at three in the morning- and she has almost perfected it. So she can be the entertainment. If we can keep away from the food- I won't share her disgusting table manners with my guests so she'll have to eat in the kitchen and join us later.
There almost sorted just -send out the invites...!
Done.


Ferdinand, bon vivant, raconteur and perfect host.

Ferdinand ginger cat -Bastet.

Dear God

Today I have been a paragon of virtue,
Today I have not been cantankerous, bad tempered or rude,
I have not been greedy, nasty or selfish
I have not complained, whinged or whined,
I have not stolen the left over chicken
-On the kitchen table, only lightly covered and with a whole leg...
I have resisted temptation.

But I will be getting out of my box in a moment and I will really need your help!


If I pray to anyone it is Bast, I am Bastet.

What we need is a homeland, a homeland for Bastets, Felixstowe? No! Catalonia, that's it the very place. Warm, ideal for sunbathing; on the coast, perfect for fishing.

We'll need a constitution, a list of commandments. And I as the founder of this state and a direct descendant of The Bast (the family likeness as shown by this ancient Egyptian sculpture is testament to my birthright) am in the unique position of being entitled to its draft.

All felidae Bastets will be entitled to citizenship: as long as they're not more handsome than me -which is unlikely.

• Thou shall eat fish on Friday.
• Thou shall have a new box every day.
• Thou shall not be moved (from sleeping on the clean washing.)
• Thou shall purr six times a day.
• Thou shall chew catnip.
• Thou shall wash a thousand times a day -a Bastet's body is a temple.
• Thou shall practice hymn singing at 2 am and again at 5 am.
• Thou shall rest for twelve hours a day and sleep for eight.
• Thou shall convert any ailurophobe Bastists to the one true faith.
• And on the seventh day rest.
  

Ferdinand ginger cat the biggest Bastet of them all.

Ferdinand and Micky the muse

Trying to get near this computer nowadays is becoming difficult. Susan (female human of the household) keeps drawing with a mouse! Now I don't recommend this to anyone, they may be small but they have a nasty nip. Believe me I know.

We have a commune of Mickys under the honeysuckle, and I, being the supreme hunter managed to capture one of these beings in less than eight hours. He wasn't too keen on the idea but I explained it was to assist me in my artistic endeavours and I had no intention whatsoever in causing him bodily harm, and that this was the new thing and no longer was a being required to yield his fur to make a brush (bald as a badger) no! this is going to be a live art performance with hirsute beings. And he would be given full credit: Micky muse!

I had my canvas prepared (well my box, the side of my box.) I'd just gotten him into position when a momentary lapse of concentration -my mind had wandered, my creative juices were flowing, and I popped him in my mouth much as a human would suck a pencil, Well the little blighter screamed called me a lying treacherous wotsit and promptly bit my nose, I'm scarred for life. My nose has swollen to three times its size, my handsome proboscis a carbuncle.

Ferdinand: saving up for plastic surgery please give generously!

Freedom horses and me, Ferdinand ginger cat.

Martin (male of human of the household) said,
"you're not given freedom you take it!!

The horses didn't bray, were silent. They stood; mares, foals and stallions on a small islet, they hadn't eaten or drunk for four days, subdued, heads held low.

The army: were going to build a bridge.
The air force: fly them out on harnesses dangling from helicopters.
Four foals died, the others dying.
Experts gave their advice: the herd could bolt and all drown...

The answer, easy when you know, was other horses. Horses with riders -a quiet solution.

The big horse and his rider stood to the front of the herd. The main contingent of horse and riders circled to the rear. At a given moment the gang yelled; the herd woke from their malaise, scared by the noise, weary from their islet survival their notion enmasse was:
Well he's a big bugger we'll follow him. And they did!

The big horse trotted through a safe path demarked in the water with white flags on sticks and the exhausted herd followed - barbed wire and sunken dangers lay surface hidden below grey waters.

They clicked their heels: terra firma, the depression lifted the herd awakened.

Tell it to the caged canary and the battery hen, tell it to the bears dancing on the end of chains; tell them it's their fault, blame them for their plight after all you're not in that circumstance and it must be because you are cleverer than they!


Violent storms on Tuesday led to the death of 19 horses in Holland. The herd of 100 horses, including several foals, was stranded for four days on a tiny piece of land surrounded by flood water. Rescuers on horseback lead the remaining horses through the water to safety earlier today.

The storm lifted the North Sea waters as much as 13 feet above its normal level and pushed it into the wilderness area outside the dikes of Marrum, a town 90 miles from the Dutch capital of Amsterdam. High water levels and hours in the water led to the death of the 19 horses from either over exposure or drowning.

Firefighters and animal welfare officers plotted a rescue route and earlier today four women on horseback guided the animals back. One horse decided not to follow but was led back later on. Some horses, including the smallest foals had been ferried to safety by small boats on Wednesday.


Ferdinand ace reporter!

Ferdinand the not worrying ginger cat!

In dedication to all cats specially those of ginger hue,
and one irascible character that ginger cat I knew!

SJH

This is one of Susan's (female human of the household) doodles.
MMM I'm worried. That sounds like an epithet. Does she know something I don't know? Could she know something I don't know? It isn't that I don't like it, it's the timing. I mean, I may well use it on my tombstone -well I won't 'cos I won't be here, but I wouldn't mind it being used on my tombstone. But why now? Could she know about a fatwa? Am I being over sensitive?

I won't worry. Ferdinand don't worry! I will say this over and over again -self hypnosis. Ferdinand don't worry! Desensitization. Don't worry Ferdinand. Um I feel much better now!

Ferdinand the not worrying ginger cat, no i'm not worried at all, not a bit, no.

The mad male, Mufti of Australia and the ginger cat.

I could not believe my furry ears today after hearing the news. Mr Mullah Antipodean has accused all males of lacking self-control, labelled all we testosterone-fuelled beings as mad bad deviants, incapable of disciplining our thoughts or actions.

Usually, when a being lacks moderation, incarceration, sectioning under the mental health act, or if a quadruped death by shooting or lethal injection follows. So, are all we beings with big external bits between our legs in need of incarceration to protect the public from our marauding? No! The diamond ring that is stolen, the house that is burgled, the goods shoplifted are all to blame, but the male is innocent because he is by his nature totally bonkers, but as he- Sheik Taj Aldin al-Hilali -is a male his sermon according to his own philosophy is the outpouring of a criminal mind or lunatic or both.

Follow through his argument there could be no beautiful things on the planet. I could not have a new box somebody -might nick it. If I were given a new collar -a new collar for Christmas -a collar with a bow tie - an Eton collar for cats - I would deserve to get it nicked. And worse, the very worse thing about his "sermon" is he blamed not just the male but specifically cats!

Now call me paranoid but... Did he read my blog last week about face veils? Ok so ginger cat wasn't mentioned, but it could have been, I could have a fatwa against me as I write... ginger tom from Wiltshire, a ginger tomcat named Ferdinand from Wiltshire... I'll never be able to show my face again...!

Sheik Taj Aldin al-Hilali - the Mufti of Australia - condemned women who "sway suggestively", wear make-up and no hijab or Islamic headscarf, in a Ramadan sermon to 500 worshippers, The Australian reported. During the sermon al Hilali said: "If you take out uncovered meat and place it outside on the street, or in the garden, or in the park, or in the backyard without cover, and the cats come to eat it... whose fault is it, the cats' or the uncovered meat? "The uncovered meat is the problem. If she was in her room, in her home, in her hijab, no problem would have occurred." The Australian also reported that he said that women were "weapons" used by "Satan" to control men.

And just one further thought as Mr Mufti seeks to explain himself...

He was reported in the newspaper as saying that he only meant to refer to prostitutes as meat, and not any woman who does not wear a hijab, but the paper said there was no mention of the word prostitute in the sermon.

...If the shop's closed for business taking the goods without consent is theft!

Ferdinand ginger tomcat: vegetarian!

The ginger cat calendar

A shameless promotion! But I am the inspiration, so it should be a proud promotion. This is the ginger cat calendar -inspired by me, Ferdinand ginger cat- model and 'mews'!

Homage to Halloween and not by a black cat but Ferdinand ginger cat

I, of course ignore them, the blue translucent beings - they after all largely ignore me, they never rub my ears, feed me, nor do they talk to me, not even about me, so humph to them. One did pull my tail once and I swatted him, which sent Martin -male human of the household- into convulsive fits of laughter rounded off by hiccups and a fart!

"That cat is having a pretend fight. Bonkers. Absolutely mad! "Martin said to himself.

I tried to follow as one of these beings walked through a wall but bruised my nose rather badly on the radiator. Fortunately, no one was around to witness this event. So now, I take no notice of them whatsoever.

Dolly however, stares in fascination as the old blue lady descends the stairs and walks through to the kitchen -she secretly enjoys the discomfiture of the humans of the household. Most evenings at six Dolly can be found positioned in the living room doorway watching and waiting.

Big Lil doesn't ignore them either. She bless her, wants them to feed her. So when they ignore her she shouts. She shouts at them in the front room, she shouts at them from her place on the back of the sofa. She shouts at them in the early hours of the morning.

I wonder why the blue translucent beings ignore us -mostly? I know why I do, but I wonder why Martin and Susan ignore them? Strange. Oh well, ignorance (not that I believe it) is bliss.



Ghosts are here!


Ghosts are here!
Shadows on the ceiling,
footsteps on the floor
bony fingers scratching,
scraping at the door.

Ghosts are here.
Cobwebs dance in corners,
creaking treads the stair
icy voices moan, chill
whispers stir the air.

Ghosts are here.
Skeletons tap rhythms
to tunes long since played,
welcome bright morning
now the ghosts are laid.

by SJH

Jack Straw, face veils and Butch

Jack Straw has opened a debate on the wearing of face veils. I believe that what we wear -a turquoise diamante collar with leopard print trim and a cardboard box on our heads- is absolutely nothing to do with any government! However, these face veils I do not like or comprehend, they lump all human females into one amorphous lump called woman onto which any opinion of that sex can be projected. From countries where one man's opinion in court counts for twice that of a woman's this item of clothing only emphasises that bias.

Unless of course, all these women are irresistibly beautiful and are in danger of being jumped on as soon as they leave their homes, this is unlikely to be true, not that I'm casting aspersions on their appearance- well I couldn't could I? Not with a veil on it- but it seems the human male of that tribe has the problem if he can't contain himself every time a woman walks by who's not swathed in acres of fabric. The sexual thoughts after all are in his head not hers!

This has everything to do with testosterone of which I know much about. I Ferdinand ginger tomcat, am the exception to this rule, but most males, drugged up to the eyeballs with this hormone, are regardless of appearance, age, intellect or anything remotely to do with attractiveness, is in his own eyes, god's special gift to the female of the species.

Butch is an example I shall give for this delusion. Butch was 24 years of age -that was how old he was when he went to the cat house in the sky; he was a full, intact male. He had one tooth, frayed ears and his fur was falling out. He was never handsome not even in his younger days but to himself he was what all females were waiting - their chance with The Butch. Now if Butch were to have worn a cardboard box I could see an advantage for him. Because Butch had some talent as a mouser could be funny and had his own shed, so he had some attractive points unfortunately, none of them were in the physical department. So, a box with holes for eyes would have revealed his good points and concealed his bad. But not if every other male has to do it, I Ferdinand, am not rich in worldly possessions but I have been blessed in the good looks stakes, me wearing a box would be just another cat in a box. No advantage to me at all, because and especially I am Ferdinand ginger cat and any old tabby could say they were ginger, even heaven forbid, Dolly!

Ferdinand ginger cat TV presenter.

Nice to be home. Great to be in my box. But it was fantastic to be away.

Up canal road, past the matress factory, Billy the barge cat sits face tilted toward the sun. The Harpy is twenty foot long, green and red livery, castles and roses painted on metal buckets house herbs and red geraniums arranged along her deck length.

Billy gave me a ride to Bimingham. His sister Horatio would float me the final leg to Birkenhead and the ferry cross the Mersey would see me to Liverpool. Three weeks!

This is just a short jotting, but just to say, DOLLY, I had to go and I do appreciate you - sort of- you keeping my blog going, even though you've managed to upset nearly all my readers.

I've been working in Liverpool. I, Ferdinand have been a TV presenter. I'm sure Richard Madeley had something to do with it. I knew he wouldn't forget me.
You won't be able to see the show but this is me on air -Ferdinand TV presenter.

Dream on Ferdinand ginger cat

Ferdinand ginger cat is sleeping, his dreams are filled with tales of daring do upon the high seas and Ferdinand ginger cat, captain of his ship, has single handedly saved the day.
Horatia: her velvet body black as coal and eyes of deepest amber, calls to him. He has saved her from a terrible fate, she is grateful, and Horatia wants to show Ferdinand how very grateful she is

Horatia. Her eyes meet Ferdinand's and hold his gaze then slowly she lowers her eyes to the deck turns her head to one side and glances up, a sideways look through her lashes.
"FERDINAND."
She turns and saunters slowly away from him then stops and turns looking back at him over her shoulder.
"Ferdinand," she whispers.
Ferdinand, tail held high, walks over to her and they rub noses. Pink nose caressing velvet black nose.
"Ferdinand."
"Horatia."
"Ferdinand. "
"Horatia."
"I love you," her whispers barely audible above the buffeting of the ship.
"Ferdinand." she cries
"Ferdinand?"
"Ferdinand!"
"Where have you been?"

"Horatia, what?"And Horatia begins to fade from his strong ginger limbs, and the more he tries to hold onto her the smaller she becomes.
The buffeting continues though, if anything harder and harsher than before.
"Where have you been?!"
And Ferdinand is thrust rudely back in his box and wrenched away from the warm embrace of Horatia and Dolly said when she'd finished jumping all over his box.
"Anyway, I've been keeping your blog going!"

Ginger cat's diary is blog of the month

I don't know what Ferdinand found to write about! I've been sitting staring at the keyboard and nothing, just a blank... Mind you, he did ramble therefore, while I wait to unblock and my creative juices flow I thought i'd just update the appearance of the blog -looks exceedingly professional i'm sure you'll agree. I just need to change a few more things (Ferdinand's portrait! for one thing, i'd like to change the name too but then I would not have a blog.)

I suppose I could start my own journal but it is only during my tenure this blog has reached critical acclaim, since my management takeover, my blog was blog of the month in English magazine which is an international mag for non English speakers (and not because their English is so chronic they don't recognize a well written word either!) Yes I, Dolly, am not only the most beautiful, beautiful (which takes a lot of hard work, time and effort) tabby in the world but am philanthropically engaged in the teaching of English to foreign students as well as running this newspaper- no wonder I don't have the time to write in this journal!

10 reasons to suspect your cat has your email password.

"Dolly?"
"Yes."
"Doll!"
"YES."
"Will you give this to Ferdinand when you see him?"
"He's not here."
"What? "
"Ferd isn't here."
"What."
"FERDINAND ISN'T HERE."
"I KNOW, thats why i'm asking you to give it to him."
"Oh, right, fine, yes, ok.
"What?"
"What is it?"
"What?"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT TO GIVE TO FERDINAND?"
"I found something on the web. Well, I didn't find it Susan (Female human of the household) found it and I read it when I was keeping her lap warm and she was googling but I saved it by slapping the mouse just at the right time, 'cos I know Ferdinand would think it was cool."


Why You Should Suspect Your Cat Has Your Email Password: Kitten Bar.

1. E-Mail flames from some guy named "Fluffy."
2. Traces of kitty litter in your keyboard.
3. You find you've been subscribed to strange newsgroups like clear iconalt.recreational.catnip.
4. Your web browser has a new home page .
5. Your mouse has teeth marks in it... and a strange aroma of tuna.
6. Hate-mail messages to Apple Computer Corp. about their release of clear icon"CyberDog."
7. Your new ergonomic keyboard has a strange territorial scent to it.
8. You keep finding new software around your house like CatinTax and clear icon WarCat II.
9. On IRC, you are known as the Iron Mouser.
10. Little kitty carpal-tunnel braces near the scratching post.
    

"That's good that Lil."
"What?"
"That is good! Do you know who wrote it?"
"Ferdi will like it."
"WHO WROTE IT?"
"Will you tell Ferdinand that I gave it to him?"
"Ferd is not ... Oh never mind."
"WHAT?"
"Yes LIL, I will."
"Thank you," she said, and she clambered to the top of the sofa closed her eyes and a minute or two later began to snore.

Well, I like it but I don't know the author. So? Mmmm, what to do? Publish and be damned? What would Ferdinand do? Mmm, I don't know! I'll publish it and say Lil did it, that should fix it, easy no problems. Lil, the big splodgey deaf cat, hereby assumes all responsibility for the content of this blog, ( except the good bits which are mine, all mine.) Dolly the law abiding and beautiful tabby - the most beautiful tabby.

Ferdinand ginger cat and Schrodinger's wanted cat poster

Staring out into the night and howling Lil woke the whole household in the early hours. The other side of the patio doors was a rangy adolescent tabby tomcat staring in. I came to her aide, ok side, and for my pains received a right hook across my face. And no that tabby is not coming in (A kitten trying to fill a tomcat's paws!) Besides, I am the only tabby in the village...!

Ferdinand's box is still empty. I jumped into it today. His blue wool blanket is just how he left it. It smells of Ferdinand. Under the fold near where his head would have lain, an old bacon rind, crisp and dry, a little snack put by for later a habit hard to break I suppose when you know hunger. This box is an old box he has had it for months on the outside hangs his photo taken with Richard Madeley in a silver frame. A tuft of ginger fur clings to the blanket.

This is a wanted poster. Ok, it's a poster of Schrodinger's cat but the model is Ferdinand -profile and full face- it's black and white but just a imagine a ginger blob and that is Ferdinand ginger tomcat, missing, not wanted, but as no one else wants you you may as well get back in your box. There that should sort it. Making me worry he could email! Great ginger twit.

Should I offer a reward? Ferdinand's not worth anything; a bacon rind half chewed is hardly going to bring a rush of informers but there is his silver frame with his Richard Madeley photo -but if/when Ferdinand ginger cat returns (I'll box his ears) he'll really miss it, it's the only thing he's got 'cos he doesn't even really live here, just lodges.

A.W.O.L Missing: Ferdinand ginger cat.

Ferdinand's box is empty. He has not been seen since August 11th So I, Dolly (the beautiful) will continue this blog.

I don't know where Ferdinand ginger cat is, and he didn't tell us he was going A.W.O.L. Not that I miss him! (I have just become accustomed to having him around) A bit like a hoover, the quiet only noticeable when the vacuuming stops.

I do hope he has not been squished. But I think I would sense if he were in the big cathouse in the sky (I'm very sensitive, one could say a sensitive).

Reasons for his absence:

a. He's searching for a new box (but then again he'd just go to Knees, which would only take a couple of hours.)

b. He's gotten into a scrape raiding Tesco's carrier bag recycling depot.

c. He's chasing after Electra. But then he would have certainly told us -he does like to boast about his sexual conquests in fact Ferdinand boasts about everything, he has an ego the size of a house. So on that note...

d. He has gone because Richard Madeley has not fulfilled his promise to have the ginger fur ball on his show, and he is in a major sulk. Or he's gone to London to gate crash the programme.

e. Most likely though; Susan -female human of the house hold- was writing about Cat Lettuce. She wrote that Cat Lettuce was the most handsome ginger cat, well actually she wrote Cat lettuce was the most ginger cat because Ferdinand caused a major distraction just as she was about to write the word handsome and when she resumed didn't pick up where she left off and omitted that particular word. Therefore, Ferdinand ginger cat is just plain and simply jealous.

However, if he is squished under black rubber wheels and I am writing he is jealous then I would feel rotten, wouldn't I? Well no because I have to be objective as a journalist. So, even though it may hurt my sensibilities I Think Ferdinand ginger cat is both egotistical and arrogant.

Signed Dolly (the most beautiful tabby cat in England, Europe, the world, possibly the universe.)

I, as an investigative journalist pose the question: where is Ferdinand?

Perhaps I should rename this paper Dolly's Journal, The Dolly Daily. The Tabby Tabloid -no far too down market, The Tabby Times, mmm not bad that. Um on this important note I shall log off which will allow me time to ponder this most critical subject. The Daily Dolly, The Vogue Mews.. The Dolly...!

Fungal boots and yeast infections.

Martin (male human of the household) says as he enters the house "that Lil smells!" It was a hot humid day and the house and been closed up all day. Ignoring his work boots fungal and festering in the hallway; pungent emanations wafting to Lil as she slept with paw over nose and imaginatively dreaming of fragrant warm grass meadows and catching rolands - the supreme huntress.

Yet he without sin... those in glass houses...or put your own house in order etc etc, or failing that buy several litres of canestan and shove it over squat fly the squalid.

Ferdinand the fair!

The Tesco carrier bag recycling plot.

Tesco is introducing a policy to reuse plastic carrier bags. Tesco will give a point for every carrier bag reused, it doesnt even have to be a Tesco bag. I'm going hunting and gathering bags. I'm very experienced in the skill of rummaging in bins and skips. With my earned clubcard points I will have salmon steaks and tuna steaks; turkey thighs and chicken breasts; some cream, evaporated milk for Lil, prawns for Dolly; delivered to my door, ordered via the internet. MMMMMMM Dustbins here I come.

Ferdinand: the green recycler.

"There is a flaw in your fraudulent daydreams, Ferdinand."
"And what is that oh striped one?"
"You did not read the small print."
"I did actually..."
"Not that I don't appreciate your thought of prawn gifts..."
"...but I don't know anybody who isn't seduced by my ginger charms - for I Ferdinand, am the most handsome Ginger cat - one meow from me and the checkout operators will be throwing bags at me! I could become a millionaire, a fat cat, the carrier bag king recyc..."
"Ferdinand you really ought to get out and meet more people...!"

HMMPH

Tesco will award Clubcard points to people who recycle old carriers or pack up their shopping in other bags.
Points will be awarded to shoppers who re-use old plastic bags - even those from rival chains - or bring other bags into store.

Checkout staff will use their discretion in deciding how many Clubcard points to give out.

Installing new software. Ferdinand computer buff.

I decided to install some new software. Accepted all the bits and bobs (on pain of death etc) and then a drop down box opened: English or international English?
Well hello!
English is English.
I know; I'm English.
Anything other than English English is international English. So if you spell tyre as tire that's international; colour as color: international; programme as program: then you are using international English.
It ain't English English.
So there...!

I think English should have been patented, and a license granted for internationals who want to use it and every English English speaker could and should have been issued shares in English English PLC.

So when you place the verb at the end of the sentence you ain't no English English speaker being. This transpostion of the verb has something to do with English English humans driving on the left side of the road -every English English human is a right brainer. Or; it's just so English English speakers can laugh at internationals who crash on our roads and we can say; "look at that bloody foreign driver!" Hence, the invention of the roundabout cunningly designed to confuse all but the right brainers.

I digress, back to English English.

English has just celebrated its millionth word. Which is a huge crossword and a great way of idling away the time. The French have 100,000 words, which means they are not so idle and have more time to drink wine and barricade roads.

Examples of the beauty of the Anglo Saxon English English.

Juggernaut
Kindergarten
Bungalow
Anorak
Panache
Tea...



It's the heat. 'Normal' Ferdi will be resumed when the heat wave waivers. Signed Dolly: by way of excusing Ferdinand's cantankerous outpourings.

"Since when did you learn to type?"
"Since you plonked your backside on my table."
"Keep your paws off my keyboard!"
"Keep your bottom off my table."




Hmmph...!!!

Mr Blair's hair

I forgot to mention this in all the chaos that was whirling round in this house earlier -big Lil is now thankfully asleep.

I don't meant to be catty but what on earth is happening to our PM's head. In Washington alongside Mr President at the photo call he was looking distinctly ginger- and not a nice shade of red streaked through with apricot highlights - I appreciate not every being can be as blessed as me- but that dead mahogany shade that human males of a certain age adopt. Ok so he's masked his sideburns from the drippings of that particular 'one colour suits all' bottle but he now looks like he's wearing a toupee!

Cat extradited to USA for declawing!

"Oh no. OOOOH oh no."
"Doll, what have you done to Lil?"
"Nothing."
"OOOOH!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yep."
"Lil."
"LIL."
"What?"
"What's up?"
"What?"
"What's up?"
"They are going to cut my feet off."
"What? Who?"
"OOOOH."
"Dolly do you have any idea what Lil is crying about?"
"Well Yes, sort of."
"And?"
"Well, I was on the internet and I didn't know Lil was there, being as she normally sleeps on the back of the sofa 23 hours a day."
"And?" I have the feeling this is going to be a big and.
"Well; I was reading this blog about this human female in America who lived with a tabby cat."
"That is obviously not it."
"Anyway; the female human was kept up all night because of this tabbies cries coming from the cellar. The female human felt guilt because she'd taken her to the vet to have her womb and feet removed."
"What?"
"This cat had her feet removed."
"And this is what you told Lil."
"It's the truth. I read it."
"Well it's not quite the truth."
"You going get all subjective now?"
"It's not all the feet it's the front joint on each toe, and besides we are not in America."
"Ferd, why do they cut your feet - toes - off in America? "
"To prevent the furniture being clawed, I think"
"I'll tell Lil then, mind you her feet are so big..."
"Doll!"
"And she scratches the furniture."
"Dolly!"
"I'll tell her then."
"Good!"


No we're not in America: but we could be...!

I wonder if we felines would be shipped over to the states alongside our English humans. England could then be used as an American base without having to listen to we Brits whinging about it 'cos we'd all be over there complaining about the weather. Yep, all and everyone of us Brits because of a treaty signed by Mr Blunkett can be shipped over stateside without a bye or leave.

The case has highlighted concerns over an extradition treaty sealed by former Home Secretary David Blunkett in the wake of the September 11 2001 attacks in the USA.

The treaty - originally presented as a tool in the fight against terrorism - allows British citizens to be extradited to the US without American courts having to provide there is a case for them to answer. But the failure so far of the US Senate to ratify it means that no such arrangements exist in relation to US citizens wanted in UK courts.

Susan says, why not just say it as it is?

Susan says, why not just say it as it is?


Apparently anyway, Susan doesn't cook! Has no sense of humour- and sacrificed him for her art.

Susan thought accepting he go to Switzerland was a nice thing. Take her arty stuff, but get a brake from the dole queue, signings.

She should have gone herself...

Far too hot for a cloak!

"Hello Ferdi."
"Hi LIl."
"What you readin?"
"James Baldwin."
"What?"
"James Baldwin."
"What."
"James Baldwin."
"Oh, Is it good?
"It's a fable about pursuasion over force.."
"What?"
"It's a fable."
"On the table?"
"Fable, Lil. Fable."
"What happens?"
"A man who takes his cloak off."
"Ferd?"
"Yes Lil?"
"What's it about?"
"A man wearing a cloak."
"What?"
"A man."
"Oh! What happens?"
"He takes off his cloak."
"What?"
"He removes his cloak."
"Why?"
"Cos he's hot."
"What?"
"He's hot."
"What not?"
"Not what not, hot."
"Hot not!"
"He's too hot in his cloak."
"Well he would be; day like this, fancy wearing a cloak on a day like this," Lil said, and said. "Far too hot to wear a cloak!" and then said, "I'm hot and I'm not wearing a cloak.. before stepping out to gulp some green water from the bird bath. On her return she said, "don't know why you do all that reading, I could have told you that: it's too hot for a cloak."

"Would you like too read it?"
"What?"
"Read it?"
"No not now I know what it's about..."


The wind and the Sun once had a dispute as to which was the stronger of the two.
"Do you see that traveler plodding along the road?" said the Wind. "Let us both try our strength on him, and let the one who can first strip him of his cloak be the winner."
"Agreed," said the Sun.

The Wind began first. He blew a blast which sent the leaves flying through air; he raised clouds of dust in the road, bent the tops of the trees to the ground, and even tore up one sturdy oak by the roots. But the colder it grew and the more it stormed, the tighter the traveler held his cloak around him.

Then the Sun began. He burst out from behind a black cloud, and, little by little, darted his sultry beams upon the traveler's head and back. The man did not notice this much at first, but soon the heat was so great that he stopped to wipe the sweat from his face.
"Ah!" he said, " I cannot stand this. It is so hot that one might as well be in an oven!" Then he threw off his cloak, and carried it under his arm; and when he came to a tree by the roadside he sat down under its shade to cool himself.

After that, the Wind never claimed to be stronger than the Sun...

The heat Ferdinand is making you curmudgeonly.!

Israel is on the move. It is moving tonight inside Lebanon even though it has said the build up of troops on it's northern border were not for an invasion force... but that was before they walked over the border and captured a village -so they weren't lying then -just must learn to read more thoroughly between the front lines...

"The heat Ferdinand is making you curmudgeonly.!"


I'm sitting in a pink puff prawn cocktail toxic cloud and assailed by a voice -the sound of nails on a blackboard -Dolly is at my shoulder and on my back.

"Or should I say more curmudgeonly than your normal curmudgeonly self."

What dross that stripy wonder cat mews -I was going to say sometimes -but why qualify it.

I have managed to keep coolish. Laying on the tiles in the conservatory works well until the sun comes round and turns the glasshouse into a storage radiator. I had found shade under the cherry tree. I'd formed a tidy hollow in the dry earth and I was just nodding off when I was invaded by an angry army of red ants. Took me all day to remove the bad tempered blighters from my furry body. Anyway the next best place is on the garden table under the sun umbrella- the only draw back this is Dolly's patch and apart from the distinct aroma of old cod heads I do have to listen to her Daily Bile utterances of what the sensible should say to earn the crust of cooldom.

Ferdinand, GB plc and the chaos theory.

The chaos of the middle east continues...

Iran (axis of evil-and wearing a black hat) must be to blame because the rockets launched from the backs of lorries hail from that country and y..
"Ferd? "
"I'm busy."
"But Ferd."
"YES?"
"Arms are GB plc's greatest export!"
"I know."
"But if we believe the manufacturer of arms is responsible, we could be up to our whiskers in shrapnel, you're just asking to be bombed!"
"Not a bad idea (the being held responsible not the whiskers and bomb bit-) But no, I'm pointing out the obvious."
"But Ferd this is just too serious."
"Dolly everything has many sides. We have history.. We have our talents.. Our character.. Our beliefs our humo..."
"Ok Ferd, I get the point. But you are supposed to be writing your autobiography."
"Yes, and I have written three pages, but as I write this it becomes my history, so I've only got to get from there to here and this bit will be already written. "
"Ferd you're a genius!"
"I know, but it's nice of you to say so."
"Ferd?"
"Yes ?"
"Where do the Israelis get their arms?"
"America."
"So if Iran is to blame.."
"Yes Doll?"
"That's all."

Let the fur fly

I don't (always) understand humans; loathe, as I am to admit it. And I am, of course a great understander of the human condition. But, the news arrives in shrapnel bursts from the speakers and assaults my eardrums. And I question: if the Jews above all people can't learn what hope then for the rest of humanity?...! The Israelies posture that they have the right to defend themselves. Of course, every spirit has and must, no one could or would argue against such a tenant, but I can argue with the methodology. I can and should defend myself against being squished by big rubber wheels; should I therefore blast off the road every car, lorry, and motorbike that traverses my course?

History if forgotten has a danger of repeating itself. I would have hoped the Jews would have understood that lesson, and have been if not generous then magnanimous in their responses, but it seems humans regardless of their race, creed, sex and experience serve their own needs regardless of the consequences. A despairing position.

Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.

David Beckham world cup 2006

"England! England! England!"
"Stop shouting."
"I'm excited."
"England!England!"
"Ferdinand!!!"
"England!"
"Ferd."
"Yes Doll?"
"Stop shouting."
"England."
"Ferrrrrrd!"
"England! England! England!"

Jim the graveyard cat

Through the large black wrought iron gates across the flagstones, a shortcut walked to the shops. At Christmas time once a year and for that day only the gates are closed, this preserves the path as private property. Most of the gravestones have been removed some re-rooted along the stone wall. A few headstones remain; lichen clad most of the inscriptions worn away by rain and wind. But one tomb is lichen free, well tended, the wording recut. This is the resting place of Thomas Helliker hanged March 22, 1803 in the 19th year of his age. A cloth worker, he was arrested in 1802 on suspicion of threatening a night-watchman with a pistol during an anti-machinery mill-burning riot. Although protesting his innocence, he refused to betray the real culprit, a fellow member of the shearmen's union, and was subsequently tried and hanged on his 19th birthday. He was later cleared of any wrongdoing and was adopted by the trades unionists as a martyr marking their struggle through turbulent times.

And this is where Jim the graveyard cat's black backside was now parked. His eyes closed face tilted up to catch the warmth of the sun. Without raising so much as an eyelash...
"Hello Ferd, "he bellowed in that low slow West Country accent.
"Morning Jim," and I jumped up to join my good chum on the warmed stone.
We sat side by side, sharing the sunshine.
Two good ladies from St James' were tugging weeds from the rose bed, Mavis and Mabel. Mavis had blue hair.

"How's Doll, Ferd?"
"She's ok, Doll being Doll."
"And Lil ?"
"Ok, although shes gone deaf."
"Stone me."
"Yep, deaf."
"Well I'm sorry to hear that."

Mavis said, "I'm not getting that dandelion root up, they go deep they do and I'm not digging, you never know what'll come up in here; a bony finger breaking through the soil!"
"Could give us a hand with digging!"
"Er."
"Look at those two will you? looks like their having a conversation!" Mabel chuckled.
"What the F~+* do they think were doing?" Jim muttered
"No point whispering Jim, they can't understand us."
"I know! but for *~#+ sake!" His language as broad as his dialect. "Fancy coming down to mine and sharing a vole?"
"Fried or boiled?"
"Last one there is a mangy F*&$+*+# fleabag." Jimmy yelled leaping off our resting place, and we raced off to Jim's gaff. Through a break in the stone of the church and down to the cellar which housed gardening bits and bobs; Jim's bed was a seed tray made from pinewood with an old potato canvas sack for a blanket and protective cover against splinters from the rough wood.
"Look at them now Mave. They look like they got it up em. They dont like it up em ey Mave?"
"Pehaps they got the finger, the bony finger..."

Ferdinand ginger cat and the amazing dancing balls

I went on a quest, a quest to find new box. If something can't be found anywhere else then Knees is the place to go, Knees is an old department store, not a chain but a family based business that's been based in the town for over a hundred twenty five years. And that is the place I would begin my quest...

At the rear of the shop is the service entrance; stacked up are cardboard boxes sadly but neatly flattened and forming towers of cardboard. No good to me, I need a box shaped box. There were mansions of boxes with pictures of washing machines on the sides, wonderful, but they were stuffed with smaller flattened boxes and too heavy to shift. Not to worry something would turn up!

Venturing further, piled up right against the back wall was a jumble of boxes, paper and card. I could not see anything suitable but I was sure there would be something in that stack. Umm thats quite nice a bit small though. No good -I don't like the pattern on the side. No -that one has a dent. More crumpled paper, some corrugated paper, bits of string, ooo bubble wrap! I'll just push on a bit further still.

A stuffed plastic bag, great texture feels granular a bit like cat litter but warmer, I'll just give it the Ferdi stomp, left paw up, right paw down, right paw up, left paw down. In my rapture, I inadvertently punctured the bag! Well actually I pierced it in several places I just hadn't noticed until all these little white balls jumped out.

The more I tried to brush them off the more they stuck, the more they stuck the more I rubbed. I leapt from the pile and all the little balls jumped along with me, my very own shadow of jumping polystyrene balls. As I walked a column of bouncing balls followed in my wake. It was fantastic. I moved left, and a couple of sparks later everything fell into the Ferdi conger line of ginger cat and balls. I moved to the right... and hello? there's one little ball not playing along, I jumped on it gave it a quick rub and the balls in a frenzy of excitement regrouped and synchronised with my dance moves.

"You put your left paw in, your left paw out
In out, in out, you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around
That's what it's all about
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey "

And all the balls joined in. I had quite forgotten where I was and this was a secret mission until... "What the bloody hell," emanated from a male human wearing large black boots and a dark blue uniform.
I stopped singing and just blinked through the blur of balls.
"What you done to yourself? You all stuck up mate? Lets give you a hand. Dunno why you came in 'ere anyway nothing ere for you. Come on let me brush you off and you can go on 'ome. Wish I had me camera wimme. (This was obviously a man of exquisite taste to recognize my superior feline qualities so quickly -though he was wearing a polyester suit!)

As soon as I got near him, all my coordinated rhythmic balls switched allegiance and leapt to their very newest chum Mr security guards trouser legs. Bereft of my dancing partners I padded homewards box less! Anyway, it was fun while it lasted and I left Mr security guard enjoying the company of the unique dancing balls trained by Ferdinand Ginger cat choreographer.

Do not disturb

Cat levitation the causes and cures?

Another sunny day, that is two in juxta pose. My position is laying upside down, legs a kimbo, on my conservatory roof; mopping up a pool of sunlight.

I'm a bit worried about big Lil, she's behaving oddly (more oddly than her normal idiosyncrasies allow) she levitated off the back of the sofa and hit Susan (female human of the household) on the back of the head with her flying furry body.

The second time -and fortunately there have only been two instances- She was in deep r.e.m sleep and snoring contentedly, seemingly quite composed. The next thing she's in the air -a splodgey cat hovercraft- and landed on her side on the floor (all cats land on their feet and although Lil is not your normal average moggy -and we are all used to perculiarities- this is very disquieting) it woke her up -not much does, apart maybe from the aroma of roasting chicken- and she lay prone for a good minute, then she wailed and wailed and then wailed some more. Fortunately I was on paw to administer support, unfortunately, Dolly attended too and shoved a thermometer up her bum. Not good!

I've checked on websites to see the nature of the complaint to form a proper diagnostic opinion but it's all standard stuff.
Bald patches.
Peeing problems and smells.
Projectile vomit.
Fleas, etc.
I thought maybe it could be something to do with her sudden deafness; a loss of balance, an inner ear problem, but that doesn't explain the vertical take off from a sleeping start. I pumped into google, cat levitation and was issued with magic tricks to perform with your feline friend... but although I am of course supremely talented and could master with ease the slight of paw skills needed to work with a magic obsessed human friend have no inclination to pull a rabbit from a hat. The image of Roland rabbit leaps scarily to mind -now that is an image to conjure with!

Ferdinand not a magician: seeking help -and not too proud to ask -cat levitation the causes and cures?

An army on the move!

A lovely warm sunny day. I'm sitting on a bench outside my conservatory, a platoon of ants are marching due northwest towards the green house. Another column marching due southeast are carrying bits of stuff along the Victorian brick path to their encampment under my conservatory. Anthony is carrying a huge white ball of something, I dont think he can see where he is going! he is wandering away from the rank-and-file; he is going in the wrong direction. Ant has just got stuck on a clump of moss. He is trying to move his prize white ball of something or other but it is stuck tight. A comrade comes to his aid and nudges the burden loose, Anthony is moving again, and steered by his ally makes it to the sandy hill, and the entrance to his camp. The convoy continues on.....Another soldier in the line of marching ants is carrying the body of a fallen comrade.

"Ferdi!"

"Dolly! Watch out, your paw, oooh."

The column breaks ranks. Many soldiers gather. Some carry bodies away. Others tend the maimed. One ant has a broken back and he twirls in circles his prize still in his jaws, desperate to rejoin the column he spins faster and faster pivoting on his narrow twisted waist.

My best Canadian chum Spunky would like to have a letter. I'm giving him the letter Z, (I wonder if I could use it later if I really needed to.) Ebra in the oo, well that's ok I could qualify it if I needed to; stripey horse in municipal game park. So Spunky, please have my letter Z, it is wrapped and ready to go but you just take good care of it you never know when it will come in useful, by the way I need your full address what is your ip code?

Ferdinand ginger cat philanthropist

A saving of 75,000 pounds in that sentence alone.

I have the best box ever, a fruit cocktail of a box. It's early morning and the sun is just breaking over the rooftops. I think I'll get up in a minute. Well i've thought about it and I think i'll stay here for a while longer. I'm in a very thoughtful mood.

I'm reflecting on words, thinking about if words have a price, and sentences a cost? And if words have a currency then can speech be free? So how much is freedom of speech worth?

A twelve-year-old boy who spoke the words Paki, and Bin Laden to a classmate was sent before the courts. Three words. How much did each of those words cost? Well there was a judge and a prosecution, defence, clerks and social workers, etc, 60.000 pounds -my guesstimate. That is 20.000 per word or 5,000 pounds a letter.

Words then have a price. Therefore, they can be traded, and the rich can afford to use bigger words than the poor, and stock markets flourish selling syllables. Perhaps words should be rationed so every body has a fair share. A day when no one can use vowels, perhaps

nd nthr dy whn prhps th lttr Z ws nt t sd.

Well that's quite good, sort of readable and i've made a saving of 75,000 in that sentence alone.
So when is freedom of speech not free? when there is a high price to pay. So perhaps it should be called expense of speech.

My musings have cost me 5,960,005, mind you, I have been prudent, this blog article was going to cost 13,098,095 until I edited it, very good value for money. I bet even Dickens did not make that much per book. Just wait till I tell Dolly how much my word's worth.

Ferdinand, the famous ginger cat economist.

Anyone who had a heart

Between her garden and cats, she chose her garden. And a very nice garden it is too. I've tried many times to convince Eileen disliking cats is maybe fair under certain circumstances; not liking me, Ferdinand the very handsome ginger tom cat is not acceptable. Ailurophobia is a terrible condition and one that I am determined to help her recover from; whether she likes it or not! One of the symptoms of this illness is a sufferer doesn't recognize they need help and worse refuses any aid that would be given.

The first stage of treatment is desensitisation, so, whenever Eileen was in her garden I would sit on the wall and just watch her (at a safe distance on health and safety grounds; the start of the treatment can be quite traumatic for patients who may become unpredictable even aggressive.) After a few weeks, she accepted my presence and even managed a few words.
"Bugger off."

Eileen soon realized that I would always be there for her. I had taken the first steps in gaining her trust. The next stage was to help her understand that she should allow herself to like me. It is surprising that anyone could dislike me but this is a cruel and debilitating sickness.

I would serenade her. I have a very good singing voice. It's loud and carries well and Eileen is a music lover; so like my singing = like me: Ferdinand ginger tomcat. Many have commented that Cilla Black (world famous Liverpuddlian chartreuse,) and I have a similar pitch. Anyway, the very first night, and after singing just the first verse of Cilla Black's 'anyone who has a heart,' Eileen's bedroom window flew open and she clapped her hands together in sheer enjoyment. The following night my repeat performance brought not only more applause but also her calling out my name,
"Ferdinand, bugger off."

The second stage of treatment had worked faster than even I dared hope and now she, and I, were ready for the third stage. This was more difficult because not only must she not have panic attacks when she saw me but she should look forward to my company. I would not let her see me for a week maybe two, (absence making the heart grow fonder,) she should then miss me, and then when I do reappear she will be overjoyed.

I managed to stay out of her sight for a couple of days, the third day she suddenly appeared and I had to make a dash for cover. Luckily, her shed door was ajar and I leapt in there. Quite a nice shed actually; large, big glass windows facing east capturing the morning light. Some sacking on a bench under the window and a box of, oh! Not a lot inside just a couple of bits of bubblewrap. A very nice box, it has a picture of a television on the side and the letters SONY. Nice and deep and comfy. Too comfy, I nodded off. Stupid of me, remiss of me, but a ginger cat of my calibre can admit to a few flaws, but then nothing is perfect not even me; although my faults are paltry in comparison to others I could mention -not naming any names but stripes and fish breathe come readily to mind. Anyway; I woke, stretched; and... and the shed door was closed! I checked the windows, they too were all securely fastened.

Hours passed. I was hungry, it was time for my tea and I needed a pee; in fact I was bursting. I sat down pondering my predicament. I needed to go home, I needed to eat and I needed to pee. And definitely not in that order. My bladder was absolutely bursting, What if it were to burst literally? Would I die, here alone?, my handsome ginger furry body in smithereens of stinky bits. No, this was not going to be my fate. Jumping down from the bench and climbing behind some shelving I found a little pile of sawdust and that was that. Oh the relief! I was not going to die of burst bladder syndrome. I scraped at the sawdust and made a very tidy job of covering my damp patch. I could not mask however; the fragrance of pure eau de ginger tomcat. The Ferdi fragrance, heavenly perfume of an angelic ginger cat.

In my comfortable state sitting on the bench in a pool of sunlight, I began to sing:
'Anyone who had a heart, Would take me in his arms and love me, too oo oo da dum , da dum da da da daaaaaaaa da da da daaaaaaa da do do.' Into my fifth rendition of this song I was quite oblivious to the shed door being flung open. But I did hear Eileen as she clapped her hands, the applause was thunderous, she shouted my name,
"Ferdinand."
And again,
"Ferdinand you horrible smelly tomcat."
I bowed out, hightailed it back to my glass ceiling abode, applause and cheers ringing in my ears.
"Bugger off."
I'm most content, Eileen's treatment is almost complete and what a success it has been. Doctor Ferdinand the human healer and fine feline physician. I'm most content indeed.

'Anyone who had a heart would take me in his arms and love me, too oo oo...

I could become independent!

I've just had a look at my adsense account and very soon I will be able to buy a whole box of Friskies.

The rabbit ate my hat

My hat looked cool. Electra loved it, loved me in it and loved me wearing it, quite, quite literally. I am the happiest ginger tomcat in the whole world.
I don't have a bald spot (Dolly!!!!) and I had Electra. Happy, happy ginger me.

I'm nearly home, almost safe. I can just see my conservatory roof and I imagine me in my box on my blanket. Nearly home, unsquished by big black rubber wheels, ungnashed by the jaws of the canine lunatic fringe, undrenched by the water hurling Mrs Higginbottom (funny; Dolly was determined to write about the events on the night she accompanied me and got soaked by the said Mrs Higginbottom, but she hasn't mentioned it in days, perhaps she's forgotten? Good!)

Raymond spends most of his days incarcerated 'cos he is stark raving bonkers. Raymond is a psychopath. This early morning he is out of his cage and on the loose. Luckily, I have seen him before he sees me; everything about him is tense and twitchy. Nose one big tic. Whiskers a wobbling. And those two big yellow ugly teeth and beige/grey furry huge ear type things, one standing up the other hanging down; he is just one big ugly animal.

I creep stealthily; keeping close to the hedge, I am intent on crossing this garden without his noticing. I keep an eye on the rabid rabbit but I am concentrating so hard on my paws not making one solitary sound that I forget the hat. Although aesthetically pleasing it has enlarged my head and I have misjudged the space needed for me plus hat, it, and I become entangled in a mahonia bush. Horrible little thorns stick in my nose and an involuntary squeak alerts the berserk bunny from his foraging.

"Ah! Ferdinand I believe! I seem to be having a ginger cat for dinner."

He is hopping to me at a ferocious pace. He leaps. Luckily, his weight knocks me out of my hat, which is left impaled on the mahonia bush. With expert timing, I dash to the fence, and he, although strong, as well as enormous, and ugly and with a bland shade of fur, lacks stamina and I am on the fence, on high ground and safe in a single bound. I stare down at him and he glares up at me. My hat at that moment plops to earth and he is upon it in a flash, teeth ripping at the straw, a thing possessed. I am transfixed at this horrible sight. That hat could have been me. I was still watching with fascinated disgust as he devoured the last of the daffodils.

He looked up and said in his deep slow drawl,
"Ferdinand maybe next time youll stay for dinner."
That is one scary rabbit.

I am in my box; the stars have left the night sky and the first rays of sunlight break above the rooftops. This is the morning after the night before. And I Ferdinand ginger cat am the luckiest cat in the whole world.