The cat's chorus

"Oi. Cat's chorus!"

Oh yes. Carol singers. And in fine voice we are too. Lil is wearing a scarf round her middle -but you can't see it in this video-she's still a bit threadbare.

"Oi! You lot...!
...that caterwauling...
...put a sock in it..."

"I'm putting my sock on the fireplace!" says Doll.

See he called us the cat's chorus, that's because we are so professional, we could sing in any choir and not just the chorus either!

"Ferdinand?"

"Yes Doll!"

"Is that a bucket in his hand?"

"Yes Doll."

"And has that bucket got water in it ?"

"I believe so!"

"Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun."

Ferdinand: 'Tis the season of good will too.'

(Mind you Will's always been a scrooge. Bah humbug!)

Billy Connelly without the humour!

Ha ha ha ha, he he he tee he. Ha ha tee he.

We are having new double yellow lines. The cold is stopping the yellow tar from setting and it's spreading up from the gutter position to the pavement like sulfurous snow. Sticky sulfurous snow. Sticky sulfurous snow that doesn't or didn't get noticed under a moonless sky.

Ha ha tee he.

Ferdinand is wearing yellow bootees. Yellow tarred wellies. Tarred and furred wellies. Banana boots aka Billy Connelly.

"It's not funny!"

Aka Billy Connelly -without the humour!

Lost his voice indeed!

Ferdinand is not not writing. He has writers block. Lost his mews! -which isn't true

"Muse."
"Muse."
...see? interrupting, that proves it. Lost his voice indeed!


My cat my friend and mews.

The tom is a gentleman!

Ah ha!
Proof -if proof were needed- that the male tom cat is in deed a gentleman.

'Manners maketh the male alley cat - they let females eat first.
They may be mangy, flea-bitten and aggressive but male alley cats still have perfect manners.
A study has found that when feral cats gather round a dustbin in search of food, the toms let the females and kittens go first...'

Unlike the journalist (mangy, flea-bitten and aggressive!) hmmph.

The computer's brain is missing...

Susan has pulled the plug on the computer. Not only has she pulled the plug but she's pulling out wires and jacks from the back of the computer! All the lights are out. All the beeps and pings are silent.

Dolly is asleep on a roll of bubble wrap on the table. Susan (female human of the household.) has left the room!

Susan has returned. She has in her hand two screwdrivers and a paintbrush!
Dolly is snoring.
Susan puts the computer on the desk.
She is undoing the screws at the back of the computer...
Gosh!
We're going in to the brains of the box. The inner workings -all the cogs and wheels and the levers and the lights and the hammers and the clocks, of said clever box are about to be revealed.
Just one last screw...
Ok, here we go.
The metal side is being slid.
Ok just get a bit closer.
Ok Susan go for it.
And we're...
There...?
Where?
"Susan there is nothing in there, what've you done with the brain?"
"Ferdinand will you get your nose out of the computer."
"Where is it?"
"Ferd will you shut up and move your head out of the way."
I'll just take a closer look. I can't believe the brain can just go. There is nothing in here! Well there's a bit of flat plastic, a couple of plastic bits and some string...
Arrrrtrtisshooo...
And dust.
A lot of dust.
”Ferdinand will you get your big ginger head out of there. Look at all that dust. Dust and cat fur. Ginger cat fur!"

"Dolly.”
”DOLLY. You seen this?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
”You woke me up to ask whether I've seen nothing?”

"The computer's brain is missing...."

Riddle of child benefit lost discs solved! News bulletin

Computer discs holding the personal details of all families in the UK with a child under 16 have gone missing.

But let me Ferdinand ginger cat reassure all you bald beings; there is no malicious intent.
'Every family with a child under 16...' The clues are there.

It's just Santa joining the technology revolution...

Expect a, And have you been good? email very shortly. Ho ho ho.

Ferdinand ginger cat: detective

Don't rub my belly I'm ticklish!

I know this is very disappointing but I am not visible in internet explorer. Weird eh! Ferdinand invisible cat.

But if you want to reveal me (microsofters)you can click the link above.


Hey! Watch my tail...
Careful...
Tail...
Tail...

I said no tail touching.

Be fair...
A belly rub...
A stroke of the ear...
But...
MY TAIL IS NOT FOR TOUCHING!

Ferdinand: Sensitive -in parts.

Diary of a hairless tom cat!

Ermmm strange. Some being wanted to see me in the buff. No. It's November. I know some beings shave their hair off for charity and that is very generous of them... But I am Ferdinand ginger cat. Ferdinand bald cat doesn't have quite the same ring to it. Plus I'd have to open a new publication: Diary of a hairless tom cat! No.

I've added fish to the office decor. Very relaxing to watch, a fantastic colour and when they get bigger they'll make a very tasty snack...

It's Halloween. Trick? or Treat?

Nearly halloween

It's nearly Halloween.

Hmm!

Pulling the plug

"Ferdinand. Ferdinand that video of Electra is gratuitous."

"Mmm."

"There is no story."

"Mmmm."

"Just Electra."

"Mmm."

"It's lowering the tone."

"Mmm."

"What you doing anyway?"

"Mmm."

"What are you doing? You've 'bin sitting there for hours not banging the keys."

"Mmm."

"Ferdinand! Ok that's it I'm pulling the plug."

"What? What d'you do that for? I was watching that. "

"Ferdinand you’re going to go blind!"

Ooh ooh oooooh!

Electra.

Electra.

Electra is dancing under a full moon sky.

Oooooooooh. Oooooh, Ooooooooooooooooooooooh......

Oooh, oooh, oooh, ooh.


Oooh

Oh.

Oooh!

Ferdinand: Luvs Electra.
Dolly: Oh for goodness sake! Bloomin' racket.

Foot loose

This is 'big' Lil. Foot loose and fancy free.

More gingery.

Ok. lookng good. More gingery. And if it turns pink I shall know who, what and why. Dolly!

Could be worse could be pink!

Um ok nearly sorted. Could be worse could be pink!

Umh strange things!

Strange things are happening to this newspaper layout!

#f86ec2 is Dolly's favourite colour

"Dolly you 'bin tinkering with my template?"
"Nope!"
"Why's that grey border border on the left got bigger then?
"Dunno."

Hmmph. This is odd. Blog looks all out shape.
I bet Dolly...

"Ferdinand it was not me who tiddled with the template."
"Well it was ok when I left it."
"I don't know htmelly."
"That's true."

"Weird though."
"Very strange. I don't know that #f86ec2 means my very favourite colour."
"No?!"





Dolly!

There's no fish paste in the fridge!

Lil can have any tit bit she likes. Chicken. Lobster. Prawns. The world is her oyster for the next couple of months, not that she likes oysters. But Lil - bless her- has decided on fish paste sandwiches. Sardine and tomato!

Big Lil is getting bigger. But you can still feel her hip and shoulder bones. She still cries bloodstained tears which congeal on the end of her nose making her look permanently snotty. So no magic bullet those pills just improvement.

But the worse thing. Lil is no longer singing. There's no choir practice at three in the morning. No rendition of 'I am what I am.' No 'Bohemian Rhapsody' blasting out from the back of the sofa.

Anyway Susan has forgotten the fish paste. I know 'cos I looked in the carrier bag dumped in the hall. I also know that there's no fish paste in the fridge!

I also know the shops are about to shut. Plus I know Lil won't pill pop without the fish paste. Now if I'm very quick I should arrive at the 7-11 before it closes...
Ferdinand: and the bike ride

"Throw that being a life jacket..."

"Tee hee."
"What you laughing about Ferdinand ginger cat?"
"Some beings criticized my journal!"
"Criticized our paper and you think it's funny!"
"Yep. This human being works and lives on a boat."
"Hilarious!"
"Yep said, should get more!"

"Um! Ha. Tee hee."


"Throw that being a life jacket..."

"Tee hee."

"Ha."
"Ha ha."

Anarchy

“Ferdinand You know you had a fight with that black cat.”
“I did not have a fight. Fighting is something I do on very few occasions. One tomcat against another tomcat there are rules; rules of gentlemanly conduct. No I escorted him firmly off the premises. He knows where he stands.
Yes Ferdinand and it’s on the step of your conservatory!”

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

Ferdinand: No comment.

While the cat's away!

Well I turn my back for five minutes and what happens? Ok I haven't been out much. Haven't been on pea patrol.
But just look -the brazen black trespasser!
He has stuffed his face with my catnip and is out of his brains; sleeping it off on my patch! This is serious...

There will be no reading of rights. No excuses. I shall wear my new bandanna. Ok. This is high noon -well actually it's 4.50 pm... but anyway time to go...


Ferdinand: nailing his colours to the mast.

Lil is going bald.

Lil is going bald. Another blood test this time on her leg. So that's her neck and her leg hairless. But she came home from the vet wearing a very natty style of bandage. The vet reckoned she would remove it herself with an hour. 24 hours later and it's still adorning her wrist.
Lil's promised when she's finished wearing it I can have it. It's long enough to wear round my head. A bandanna -a ginger bandanna with paw prints- just like the gangs. The ginger gang. The black paw boys. Oh yes I shall be well hard, man!
You lookin' at me? Know what I mean? Wicked in it? Slap the bitch up.

"Ferdinand?"
"Cripes. Yes oh striped one."
"Don't forget to write that Lil's gained weight."
"I'm doing that."
"And her heart rate has slowed?"
"Yes."
"What about the hemorrhaging in her eyes."
"Yes just about to write that: the bleeds are stopping and her sight may improve."

Ferdinand: gang leader!

The ten cat commandments on tablet taking.

Big Lil. Well the not so big Lil. The skinny Lil. The vet has phoned, -he has confirmed his diagnosis- has Hyperthyroidism.
She has to take two tablets a day. And then hopefully if she manages to regain some strength and some body weight she will be able to have an operation.

When Lil is awake I shall advise her on the art of taking pills.

The ten cat commandments on tablet taking.

1. Never 'just' take a pill even though you know it will make you better.
2. Scream blue murder if an attempt is made to force a pill through clamped jaws, then shake, roll your eyes, hide for 12 hours (somewhere warm and cosy like the back of the wardrobe on Martin’s cashmere jumper.) and then don’t turn up for tea.
3. Make out that the human being is no longer your best friend; allow no cuddles and/or ear rubs.
4. The objective of the above is treats and the self-sacrifice will be worth it in the end. (No pain no gain.)
5. Treats. The pill is going to be ‘hidden’ in some wonderful tempting morsel. You have to act you don’t know this!
6. Don’t gobble the morsel straight away. Locate the tablet.
7. Hide tablet under tongue.
8. At the moment you’re told how good you’ve been (the timing is very important because the human being must be led to believe that it nearly worked and will want to try again) spit it out.
9. This therefore will be repeated and instead of just one tasty titbit there will be two.
10. And finally take tablet because you do want to get better.

You may be given another treat as a reward for good behaviour -or the said human is feeling rotten and or guilty and this helps them feel better.- A win win situation. You get treats, take the medication to improve your health and have assisted your human being to feel good about themselves. We cats are just too altruistic. But...

A word of caution: I advise only at aiming for a maximum of three treats with pill spitting after that the human being is likely to give up and the jaw clamping and force feeding will begin in earnest and the option of treats will be withdrawn!

Ferdinand: More than just an ism.

Ism in cats 589,000 entries.

Lil’s asleep on the sofa...

A man she said, slit her throat and sexual assaulted her with a thermometer. Just wait I’ll get my paws on him, beast, pervert.

“Lilly has an ism.”
“An ism?”
“Oh no. Blimey.. Not an ism, An ism. Tell me it isn’t an ism."
“That’s what she said an ism."
"Lil’s got an ism, An ism. Oh no. An ism...."



"That man is going to phone Susan later to confirm his diagnosis...
Then we’ll know whether she definitely has an ism or not."
"Hope it’s not."
"What ?"
"Hope it’s not an ism."
"Me too."

"Ferd what is an ism?"
"Well it’s er um thingy, disease sort of thingy."
"Oh right , I see. "

"How do you spell ism?"
"I.S.M.
I’m going to google it. Just to make sure we’re talking about the same ism as that veterinary's ism."
"Good idea..."


Um! Ism in cats 589,000 entries.

Entry no: 589,000: Gosh
Entry no: 588,999: Oh no
Entry no: 588,998: Oh that’s not true.
Entry no: 588,997: Oh poor Lil
Entry no: 588,996: Oh my goodness
Entry no: 588,995: Er disgusting
Entry no: 588,994: Humph
Entry no: 588,993:......
Entry no: 588,996:......

Ferdinand: Googling an ism

Big Lil

"While we wait I'm going to paste a picture of Lil on our newspaper."
"Good idea Doll. I'll let you know if I see anything."

"Found one yet."
"Loads just gotta' choose the right one. Well there's the back of the sofa shot, on the sofa picture, upside down on the sofa..."
"Sofa shot it is then."
"This one just after Christmas she did enjoy singing bohemian rhapsody."
"Does! Doll. Does enjoy singing..."

Lilly: is a good singer.

Auditioning for a role in this drama...

Dolly was shouting. Her cries wakened me from the light nap I was taking on the conservatory roof.

The basket was gone and with the basket Lil, Susan too.

The door to the hall that led to the front of the house was closed and I met Dolly trying to force the handle; she wasn’t heavy or strong enough.

“Stand aside Doll”
I leapt at the handle. I misjudged, my own strength... the door swung open and crashed into the bookshelf scattering paperbacks and cd’s on impact. While I clung to the handle Dolly dived through the rapidly diminishing gap. I managed just to scramble though before the door slammed shut. Unfortunately my leg caught on a light flex...

We; Dolly, me and the table lamp –it’s wire twined round my rear end, clinging to me as if it urgently needed to throw light on the subject - bounded upstairs.

The office door was ajar just a gentle shove would open it. But it, as if auditioning for a role in this drama responded so violently to Doll’s nudge it bashed against a stack of files (stupid place to leave office work –always thought so.) invoices and receipts exploded upwards and then downwards; a ticker tape parade.

Dolly dived onto the office chair. The chair with the castors. I sprung to join her and we three skateboarders shot across the office floor until we came to an abrupt end at our intended destination the window.

Who cares the computers were in he way. Not us. No. We were on a mission.
A car was revving outside. The blind was down.

Dolly yanked the cord and the blind did 20 revolutions flapping angrily against the glass

We were in time to see the car with it’s precious cargo negotiate the curve in the road and vanish from our sight.

“Lil.”
“Lil.”
“She’s gone Ferd. Lil’s gone. Ferd. I hate Susan. ”

“Ferd?”

“Dolly. Doll we better...”


“What?”
“Doll we better...”
“Ferd what? What?”
“Doll I don’t know... “
“What?”

“Doll I’m going to wait here.”
“Not going to pretend you were somewhere else? And it was some being with stripes that made this mess”
“No. Doll you go down, I’ll let you know if I see anything.”
“Ferd?”

“Ferd!”
“Yes.”
“I... Would it be ok if I just sat here by your side?”


“Yes Doll, it will be ok.”

Ferd: waiting for a friend. And Dolly: waiting with Ferdinand for her fellow inmate of Bath cats and dogs home.

I wonder who’s comforting who in that embrace?

I had my suit ready. My Elvis suit. It was a party to celebrate Elvis’ life. A party only for cool cats. I looked fantastic, practiced my jive and the swivel hips motion. But I didn’t go.

Lil went into the garden accompanied by me and then Dolly this afternoon and Lil’s back legs gave way. But Lil she just got up and toddled off as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

The cat basket has been taken down from the attic. It looms in the living room it’s wire cage door hanging open. There is a towel in the bottom of it and a cushion. Dolly has been trying to destroy it. Clawing at the woven wicker and biting the broken bits. I told her it wouldn’t do any good. There’s another basket in the loft. And if that was to be ruined too there’s always a cardboard cat box...

Friday evening. Coronation Street is being watched. Big Lil is snuggled into Susan’s side on the sofa. Dolly is in the garden with the catnip. I can see all this from my vantage point in the conservatory. Susan is crying and Dolly’s as high as a kite but chews on. I feel angry. I’m impotent. I can’t do anything to make this better...

Big Lil is losing weight, a bag of bones. Susan has noticed. I’ve been reading her diary. She’s frightened of taking Lil to the vet she scribbles -doesn’t want to know the answer. Doesn’t want the diagnosis and then the prognosis.

Big Lil leans closer to Susan and pats her arm with her paw. I wonder who’s comforting who in that embrace?

Ferdinand: I don’t cry.

Ferdinand: Lying to a good friend.

“Hello Lil, how you bin?”
“Lil, how’ve you been?”
“Ferd? is that you Ferd?”
“Lil it is I. None other than the handsome ginger fur ball.”
“Ferd if that’s you would you come closer?”
“Oh yes! I knew you couldn’t resist my gingery essence forever. Quick cuddle on the back of the sofa? More than happy to oblige.”
“Lil have you been dieting?”
“The trouble I’ve had... Cat napped! Falsely arrested, imprisoned and convicted. My sentence capital. My crime: mangy ginger tomcat. I faced with valour the blue syringe. But fate played her hand and sinking my teeth into it I skidaddled out of that cell faster than a cheetah on steroids –bloomin’ blue shirted jobs worth. God it’s nice to be home.”

“Ferd it is you?”
“Lil why you whispering?”

“Lil why are you whispering?”
“Ferd. You know I went deaf?”
“Yes me old girl.”
“Ferd?”
“Yes Lil.”
“Ferd I’m losing my sight.”




“Ferd?”
“I’m here Lil.”
“Ferd I’m frightened. I know Susan loves me but she won’t want me blind and deaf!?”

“Ferd?”

“Lil no, you’ll be ok.”
“What?”
“Lil, ok we have a problem.”
“Ferd?”
“I’m here Lil, touch my paw. Let me think...”


“Ok so three out of five ain’t bad!”
“What?”
You have five senses. You can feel, smell and you can taste.
So we...”
“Yes Ferd?”
“Just let me think....”

“Ok you can still hear a bit?”
“I said you can still hear some things?”
“Yes Ferd.”
“Right here’s what we do.”
“If you need to go out, sing.”
“Sing what?”
“I don’t know, sing anything.”
“How’s it go?”
“Ok sing raindrops, RE: FALLING ON MY HEAD.”
“Not anything? Well that’s good really ‘cos I don’t know the words.”
“Ok, that’s the hygiene taken care of. If you want to eat...”

“Ok what I’ll do is wave food under your nose then you can follow me to the kitchen.”
“How?”
“I’ll put the tip of my tail near your nose and you follow it when I wave it to the left it means you have to jump down, to the right jump up.”
“Ferd, if Susan find’s out she’ll kill me.”
“She’s not going to find out.”
“Ferd you’re not always here.”
“Dolly will help.”
“Dolly!”
“Dolly is under that snobby stripey exterior a sensitive caring individual."
"Lil?”
“Yes Ferd?”
“Trust me.”
“I do. Ferd.”
“We’ll get this sorted. You have my word.”


Ferdinand: Lying to a good friend.

But hey ho!

But hey ho!

There is no power earth that would change or challenge choice.

Susan says if that is what Martin wants then that is what he wants!

I will not counter it.

Ferdinand's wet dream.

Hello. What’s this? Three pork chops are dancing a chorus line against a full moon sky. The more they dance the more they sweat. Perspiration drips sizzling aromatic drops to the ground.
Fifi appears juggling and dancing. She sprouts angel wings flies up, and joins the troop of performing pork.

I’m ravenous. My mother’s nipple is swollen and raw.
“Teeth Ferdinand, stop biting!” She grips me by the scruff her tongue warm and wet on the back of my neck.

Huge bare hands are tugging my tail. My mother is shouting, my brother is crying.

I’m yanked out and away.

“Ah e’s so sweet!”
“Savva a look, bloomin’ carrot with legs.”

“My mother is calling me.”
“Mum.” I cry.

I can hear my mother but her calls are fainter now.
“Mum.”
I’m annoyed and scared why doesn’t she come? Why doesn’t she carry me home held gently and firmly in her secure mouth?
She’s doesn’t answer me.
Why won’t she answer me?
“Muuuuuuuuuuuuuum.”

“Ouch that hurt that’s my ear you’re pulling. MUUUUUM.”

“You can’t take ‘im home.”
“I can.”
“Well if you do dad’ll drown ‘im.”
“What?”
“E’ll drown him in a bucket.”
“I’ll ‘ide ‘im.”

“MMMMUUUUUMM.”
“With the racket ‘e makes?”

“Look leave him in there; that telephone box. “
“MMMMUUUUUMM, MMMMUUUUUMM, MMMMUUUUUMM.”
“Ferdinand.”
“Ferdinand.”
“Ferdinand wake up. Ferdinand stop crying it wasn’t that bad was it? ...just a little blue pipette. How you can tell when you’re asleep.... honestly! Here’s a little pork scrap might cheer you up a bit. Honestly anybody would think it was the end of the world!”

Ferdinand: free from fleas

Ferdinand sleeping on the job.

Susan has plonked a carrier bag in the hall. Aha. Pork chops. Yuk green leaves. Carton of apple juice. Fermented grape juice. Bread. Hello what's this? Frontline spot on. Frontline seems familiar. What's it say? Kills fleas and ticks on contact. I remember. That stuff makes my skin crawl. Hours of itching and twitching.

I think I shall make a dignified retreat. Go missing for a couple of days. I wonder when she intends dropping that stuff on us? I'm thinking it would be quite nice to have the pork chops first. I'll sit in my box and watch as soon as she reaches for that box I'll high tail it. Hope she cooks the chops first before the wielding of the blue pipette. I'm not thinking just of myself naturally, but what will happen to Fifi my one remaining flea (the others ran away -ungrateful wretches) just one touch from me after being dosed would kill her. She can juggle whilst walking the tightrope, amazing. Just so talented.

Preparations have to be made for my absence. Lock the computer and change the password. Let the world of tomcats know that this box is not vacant. I'll give a quick squirt on the mock orange. Back up, set in motion the tail vibration . Ok move on up the garden path. That's the washing pole done, the end of the garden path rock, and just one final spurt the lilac tree. That's better. Eau de naturelle tomcat courtesy of Ferdinand. I should bottle it - Ferdinand fragrances.

Ok I'm in my box the kitchen is empty. Still empty. I can see Lil on the back of the sofa. She's asleep. Kitchen still empty. Yawn. Empty. Empty. Ahyaaaaaawwn. Empty. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn. It's quite warm. Yaaaaaaaaaawnnn. I'll just close my eyes for a moment. ZZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZZ ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Ferdinand: Ever alert to danger.

The frogsite saga, episode 3. I shot the frog!

"Where?"
"There."
"Where there?"
"There, that triangular shape by the rock."
"Where?"
"The frog with a big arrow on his head."
"You've shot the frog with an arrow?!"
"No I ..."
"SUSAN, SUSAN, Ferdinand has killed the frog. Suuuuuuuuuusan."

Ferdinand: I shot the frog!

The frogsite saga.

Ok, so that wasn’t the real frog. That was a plastic frog. I couldn’t get a picture of the frog in the birdbath, I click he ducks, I snap he dives. Until now...

Ferdinand wild life photographer!

"You can't do that Ferdinand."
"Did you say something oh striped one?"
"Yes Ferdinand, I did. I said you can't do that."

"I'm just about to publish my article so if you don't mind."
"Well yes Ferdinand I do, 'cos it's not an honest account."
"Are you calling me dishonest?"
"Well Ferdinand if you're lying then you're a liar!"
"I don't lie."
"Don't you publish that then. We'll lose all our credibility Don't push that butto..."


I'm trying to capture a photo of that frog. But every time I get near he ducks! I've got a trillion snaps of green water.


This calls for a plan.
Camouflage.

I tie some leaves to my head Crawling stealthily, approaching my quarry, nearer and nearer. I can see him. I just need one good shot. I pause. I listen.
"Croak."
"Croak."

Patience and stealth the art of the hunter. Not far to go. He moves. Am I down wind? Or is it up wind? Well whatever wind it is I hope it's blowing the right way. I stay still. Not breathing.

My heart beating faster in my chest.
"Croak."
"Croak."
Nearly there.
"Croak."
My finger is poised over the trigger. I inch forward. Ready. And Steady.
"Croak."
"Croak."
I have him in my sights. He's so close I could touch him.
"Snap."




Got him.

Ferdinand: Wildlife photographer.

Ferdinand is the Cheshire cat that got the cream.

Ferdinand is the Cheshire cat that got the cream. Boris Johnson has sent him an email. I don't know what it says! Yet!

Why he wrote to Ferdinand and not me, after all I am the editor. I'm not jealous, it's not me that has green eyes. It's just not fair. I'm going to have a brass plaque made with Dolly, EDITOR engraved into it that should remind him of my role in his success.

He keeps reading that email and then chuckles. All we can hear, well all I can hear bearing in mind Lil is as deaf as the proverbial is: giggle, giggle, chuckle, chuckle. It's just too irritating!

Nothing can be that funny, unless of course he's looking in the mirror!

Dolly: THE EDITOR

A frogs eye view of the world.

There's a frog living in in the bird bath. I have tried to take a picture of him but every time I get close he dives and doesn't reappear until I've gone. I can see him if I stand on the kitchen window sill. Susan put a stone in the bowl, decided this would help him out.
I said to her "he's got legs he'll jump out," but she totally ignored me and put the rock in there anyway!
She then turned to me and said "Ferdinand you are not going to eat that frog no matter how many times you ask."
Honestly! sometimes you'd think I'm speaking Swahili.

I'm wondering what the world looks like from his perspective. Big Li's lapping tongue larger than his head.
Anyway this morning he was croaking. There are two frogs in that bowl now!

Ferdinand: A frogs eye view of the world.

Hands off my fur coat!

I watched the news today.
“ I saw a film today."
Sometimes I think big Lil is not quite as deaf as she...
'Oh boy.'
Excuse me I'll just close the door.





"And though the news was rather sad.."
That's better. She's a good singer but...

Anyway.
Importing cat and dog fur has been banned in Europe! I didn't know it was ever legal!

In a cage stood a shed (a very nice shed, a very comfortable shed in any other circumstance). In the doorway of the shed stood a feline being. Solitary. Alone, apart from the many companions who shared his compound.

He was quite plump with ginger hair and white boots. They, his chums, his family, all ginger, were rather thin. All skin and bone -or rather all skin and hair. Stretched flat out, drying under the hot sun.

"A crowd of people turned away
But I just had to look."

Ferdinand: Hands off my fur coat! And Lil's. And Doll's (not that any being would want it but she is rather attached to it).

Ferdinand annoying when he's here and irritating when he leaves!

I.

"That’s a good sentence Doll."
"Ferdinand I’m busy. Taken me ages to get on this computer so if you don’t mind I’d like to continue with out you breathing over my shoulder."
"What you writing?"
"I’m continuing my article about the water throwing Mrs Bigginbottom."
"Oh right."

"Malcolm Jekyll plonks out the chords of let it be on Mrs Bigginbottom’s piano."

"I know him."
"Ferdinand! I know I’m going to regret this but how do you know him?"
"Butch."
"Butch? That bald, scabby, motley, moggy with no teeth."
"He happens to be 160 years old and he does have teeth, well tooth, fang, upper right canine.
I rest my case!"
"He would pop round and visit the Jekyll homestead and..."
"I’m busy. Too busy to listen to one of your long-winded anecdotes."
"She would chat to him..."
"Who?"
"Sharon."
"Sharon?"
"About her husband."
"Oh groan."
"Malcolm Jekyll."

"Oh."
"Oh well best be off, leave you to it."
"Ferdinand!"
"Ferdinand come back here. What about Mrs Jekyll?."

"Ferdinand."
"Ferdinand."

Ferdinand annoying when he's here and irritating when he leaves!

Psst, Pssssssssssst, Spunky! Pssssssst.

Spunky. Psssssssssssssssssssssssssst.
Just a word.
If you were to sneak into a certain suitcase.
Hide your being under a set of bloomers.
Stowaway.
Need I say more?

There's a box here with your name on it.
Actually it's got my name on it but that's just minor detail. I haven't sorted out the electrics yet. But Spunk. You are more than welcome. (My home will be like Blackpool illuminations time I've read the book) -just got to find the book. ..

Ferdinand: Electrical engineer -or will be when I can find the diy book.

Ferdinand: Tracy Emin eat your heart out!

Well it's finished. Complete. Pleased? Oh yes. This is a Ferdinand design. An exclusive.
Tracy Emin eat your heart out. This installation could be worth thousands of friskies in the months to come.

My creative juices flowed. And note the return of traditional material. Paint. The paintings though are a collaborative effort. The biggest paw marks are Lil's, the smallest Doll's and the most perfectly formed brush strokes are mine.

A little catnip before my catnap me thinks...

Ferdinand: Just too talented.

Ferdinand not thinking about yellow wallpaper.

I have a new box! It must be the plainest box on the planet, a puritan of a box. This calls for a spot of decorating.

I shall of course. In pride of place have Richard Madeley’s photograph in the silver antique frame. (I'm not putting it on Ebay I've decided, it’s just too valuable!) But my bacon rind is a must go Ebay item. Anyway I digress.

I need some wallpaper. This box is a blank canvas, which is the one and only good thing about this boring bland beige box. Now I have a tartan blanket a pink blanket or blue blanket. Not the tartan 'cos then I think the walls will have to be plain. Pink no. The man from auntie doesn't like pink so... Blue it is. Decisions! I am just so incisive. Dolly dithers. Females eh!

Wallpaper. Complimentary or tonal?. Complimentary. I like yellow. Sunshine. Summer. Warmth. So now where will I find yellow wallpaper. I'll just let my mind drift...

Not concentrate and let my brain solve the problem without me attending to it. This what creative types do and I'm a creative who types so it shouldn't be a problem.


I'll just let my mind empty of all thoughts of yellow wallpaper.

Creative type anagram= carpet I've yet (to have) private etc, ye (will not sleep in my box Dolly) and not concern myself with the box and a certain colour.


How do you stop thinking of yellow wallpaper when that's what you're trying not to think about?

I know I'll write an article in my journal. I'll write about my new box. Nothing that's going to cause consternation or upset any being. It'll be so boring my mind will wander on to solving the great wallpaper challenge. Stop me thinking about wallpaper and the shade there of.

I have a new box! It must be the plainest box...



Ferdinand: a creative who types!

Big Lil thinking outside the box whilst her head's inside!

Ferdinand has hunted a box of Kentucky fried chicken. He and Lil are partaking of the ill-gotten goods on the front room rug. Gross. I can hear them from here, lip smacking and it's not good!

"That's my bit. You have that bit. That's mine and that and that." That's big Lil.
"I captured it; I'd quite like to taste it. And I don't just want the herby coating.
Lil stop eating and get your paw off the box. That's the box you're eating there Lil." And that whine is Ferdinand.


"You'd think Dolly would appreciate this feast."
"What?"
"Dolly."
"Where?"
"Have you saved her any?"
"What."
"Saved Dolly any?"
"No. She can have the box."
"Good idea saves us cleaning up."
"What?"
"Saves us clearing up."
"Certainly does save on the washing up. A take away saves on washing up so it must be good for the environment. We, Ferd are saving the planet while we eat!"
"Interesting idea that Lil. You certainly know how to think outside the box."

"Burp."
"Oh excuse me."
"In some cultures that's considered polite."
"What?"
"It's considered polite to expel wind."
"Really?"
"Varrruhrrumpo."
"But not Lil, from that end!"


"Oh well that's me done, feasted and fattened. I'm going out for my constitutional. And a breathe of fresh air...

Ferdinand: With big Lil thinking outside the box whilst her head's inside!

Dolly: investigative reporter extraordinaire.

Finally I get to use the keyboard. Ferdinand is out and about. Big Lil is asleep. So I can now publish my article on the water throwing Mrs Bigginbottom.
It goes like this...

We arrive and Electra is waiting. She really is incredibly beautiful, what she sees in Ferdinand -the bright orange fur ball- I've no idea.
Anyway...

"Dolly," she cooed "how very lovely to see you." and rubs me on both sides of the nose.
"Are you coming with us?"
"No I'm here in my journalistic capacity. Reporting the goings and comings of the Mrs Bigginbottom."
"Higginbottom! Higginbottom!" Ferdinand grumpily interrupts.
"No but she does have a very bigginbottom," Electra laughed, "How exciting can I help?"
"Oh no."
"What did you say Ferdinand?"
"He mumbles."
"Really I didn't know that."
"Ferdinand what did you say?"
"Nothing."
"See he does that, you know he's said something then he just says, nothing."
"I hadn't noticed before, but yes Dolly you're right. He does do that."
"There are lots more about him you don't know."
"Is there?"
"He..."
"Excuse me I..."
"Interrupts when you are talking."
"I do..."
"Never finishes a sentence."
"I'M..."
"Shouts."
"Humph."
"Grumbles."
"Electra shall we...?"
"Whines."

"I think we should help Dolly we weren't doing anything special and she may need us."
"Oh streuth."
"See mumbling again."
"Yes I see what you mean, funny how I hadn't noticed."

Mrs Bigginbottom is on the sofa. She is waiting for her lover. On her lap is a photograph.
"You’re just like my father!!!" she trills. -An ironic statement if ever there was one- And kisses the image before returning it to her leather folder. It's 6.15 in the evening, her kids are fed and watered and she picks up her mobile and asks:
"Where are you? Can you talk?!!!..."
To be continued...


Dolly: investigative reporter extraordinaire.

That's better

Surprising what a little prick can do!

While the cat's away... Dolly decorates.

Dolly interior designer!

Ferdinand is away. So while he’s a way ...

...gives me a chance to decorate. Put my stamp on things.

Humph so the man from the beeb said, who?
Well humph to him!
This will give him something to remember. A paws for thought.

If only I could get rid of the ginger -clashes with this sumptuous pink.

Anyway That’s me decorating done.



DOLLY: Did the decorating. Dolly: Interior decorator.

Dolly: Interior designer.



And now for my article on the water throwing Mrs Bigginbottom...

Ferdinand and the man from auntie

"Hello Ferd, what'd he think, the man from the beeb? What'd he say?
"He said it was the best blog he’s ever read..."
"Wow really?"
"What he say about me?"
"He loved the colour..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"Thought I was the most handsome ginger cat he'd ever met..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"Loved my style, my polka dot bow tie and my centre parting..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"Thought Lil's rendition of bohemian rhapsody was superb..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"...course he's an Oxford Graduate so we had a lot in common -a meeting of minds...!
"What'd he say about me Ferd?"
"And do you know what?"
"What Ferd? What?"
"He's even taken some of my advice -well passed some of criticisms on. Did you notice that rudimentary table on Sky News...?
"Yes Ferd."
"That was my advice."
"But you went to the beeb."
"Well the beeb is a huge corporation, changes take -like a liner changing course in an ocean- along time to implement. But I said I hated all that running about they do on the news, the very next day there's a little desk on the telly for the news human beings to plonk their scripts on. Can't be just coincidence..."
"Wow, influential we are or what?"
"Definitely influential..."
"What'd he say about me Ferd? What'd he say about me? Ferd?"
"Oh yes a cat of my caliber..."
"Ferd. What he say about me Ferd? What he say about me?"

"Who!"

"Don't slam the door..."

Craaaashhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

"On the way out."


Ferdinand: There's just no pleasing some beings.

I've brushed me barnet, buckled me bowtie.

I've brushed me barnet, buckled me bowtie and I've blagged a berth on a barge with Billy to Bradford. I'm interviewing the bloke from the beeb about me blog.

Brilliant!

Ferdinand: alliteratively speaking!

"Braggart."
"I'm..."
"Boastful."
"Not!"
"Am I invited?"
"No, oh striped one."
"Beast."

Ferdinand: The illiterate.

"Alliterate."

"I'm the editor and I've edited. Plus your centre parting looks stupid. And further plus you're not Robin Day."

"Bovine!"

The polar bears are marooned and there are no more fish in the sea!

The icebergs are melting. Deserts are expanding and there are no more fish in the sea. Human beings are polluting the earth. And the biggest most handsome ginger cat (and (I’m big enough to admit it ) the noble tiger is going to do a dodo.

I think there are too many human beings on the planet. If one human being flew round the world a trillion times, left the telly on and always used tesco carrier bags ...

"Ferd."
"Streuth! What can I do for you oh striped one."
"I hope you're not writing anything controversial."
"Um!"
"Only you're banging the keys."
"I..."
"A sure sign you have a bee in you're bonnet"
"Well it did have a lot of flowers on."
"What?"
"My bonnet, me Easter bonnet with all the flowers on it!"

"Ferd. You've upset the Israelis alienated the Muslim beings, and changed every foreign speaker being's use of the English language, nobody Ferd, speaks or writes like you."
"I know I'm unique."
"It wasn't meant as a compliment."
"Well I was..."
"Anyway I'm the editor and we don't do controversy. A gossip column. A how to decorate your house..."

"I'm the proprietor and I write..."
"What are you writing ?"
"Nothing! Anyway there are three beings on this paper, Lil..."
"Lil?!"
"Yep. Lil the sleeping partner. We'll ask her opinion, she can have the casting vote."
"Lil's deaf."
"So!"


"LIL."
"LIL."

"What, what?"
"Lil do you believe my writing should be uncensored?"
"Yes Ferd."
"And do you further agree the only form of censorship is self censorship and I should be permitted to sometimes write about controversial subjects?"
"Yes to both Ferd."
"Ok Lil. Thank you Lil."
"There you go Doll, Lil has cast her vote and this as a democratic household...,
"Humph, still think fashion would gain more readership and be more interesting."

"Now were was I? The polar bears are marooned..."


Ferdinand: Environmentalist.

Learning the fine art of stiff legs.

The yew tree trunk blown by an ancient blast lists 45 degrees. A bough at 45 degrees to the trunk sweeps the ground forming a shady tunnel crossing the flagstone path. In the branch above the path sits Jim the graveyard cat, his tail swishing in irritation at the noisy juvenile bushy tailed rolands hurling fir cones from their position in the tree top. I jump up and join Jim on his perch.

"Alright Jim."
"Ferd."
"Noisy little blighters." And a fir cone bounced between us to the path below.”

"How's Doll?"
"Ok."
"Lil?"
"Ok."
"You?"
"Ok."

A fir cone bomb released from the squirrel gang whizzed past Jim's ear.
"That was close!"
"I'll %$#%)~# swing for them one day."

A male human sat on the grass beneath us he was decorated with a blue bangle of barbed wire on his upper arm and rings of love and hate on his knuckles. He opened his red top and exhaled a puff of grey smoke. Marines, sailors... women on front line!!... Iran laughing... !!

"See that Jim?"
"Yep that female human with her top off."
"No not that."
"All that stuff about Iran and sailors beings being held captive."
"Can't #+.%^>~ read Ferd."
"Oh!"
"Heard about it though; at the church coffee morning."
"Good stuff eh?"
"I reckon Ferd it was."
"Discretion always the better part of valour?"
"That stiff legged walk, you do that Ferd?"
"On many an occasion, got me out of some serious scrapes."
"Yep me too, stiff legs, then up the anti: a sideways swagger and standing me hair on end."
"And if that fails yell at the top of your lungs!"
"Yep works nearly all the time."

"Jim, I reckon these human beings are finally learning the fine art of stiff legs."
"Yep me old ginger hairball you're right there."

"And because the feline art of stiff legs was employed British human beings lost a rubber dingy, but in return got a few pressies and some grey suits. Not bad! Plus the sailor and marine human beings can earn a few pennies for their pension friskie fund."

"That Ferd is true. No loss of life, no country being bombed to bits and the captives are free to tell and sell their tail -sorry tale!"

"Perfect!" And a couple fir cones found their range, bopped us both right on the bonces.
"Right that is it, the final %4#+*X# straw."
And Jim shot off like a rocket.

Ferdinand: maintaining his dignity with a bump on his head.

Ferdinand in his easter bonnet

And because it's Easter (happy Easter) here's me in my bonnet! Fabulous. I am just too handsome.
Ferdinand: in his Easter bonnet.

Big Lil Queen of the felix tribe.

3.am. I'm on the sofa! Martin's away which allows me the choice of inside the house or conservatory. He calls me...
"That smelly tomcat."
A charge I resolutely refute.

Anyway I was on the sofa in my yoga (matsyasana 3) position (very good for strengthening the back.) Big Lil was asleep on the sofa but on the next seat. I thought she was dreaming of roland hunting; chasing wild mickies through meadows; her body was in motion from the tips of her whiskers to the end of her tail; legs running, whiskers twitching, tail switching.

Big Lil cried. In her sleep she cried. Her body jerked her awake as if an invisible hand had shaken her roughly. Wide-eyed and confused, looking about her, trying to ground herself from her sleeping flight, I reached out and touched her paw. Big Lil hates to be touched (well, by us feline beings) but this time she accepted the touch, maybe and hopefully welcomed it. Her eyes softened and her body grew less taut.

"Ferd?!"

And she settled again her back pressed firmly against the sofa cushion.

Her paw which she'd withdrawn returned just to touch mine and she purred. She purred softly before sleep took her again. This time I hope the dreaming meadows were alive with dancing butterflies, and bushy tailed rolands scampered up trees to escape the huntress's claw; big Lil Queen of the felix tribe. Not facing in this new sleeping ground the human beings who had used her head as a football and dumped her on that motorway...

No she was here with us. And she was as safe as any being can be!

Ferdinand: chilling with my friend.

Ferdinand: never a cross word!

"Hey we’re back again. And the funny black mark is gone!"
"Knew I’d help."
"Took me hours after you hit that button."
"Looks good though."
"Yes even if I say so myself it does."

"Ferd?"
"Yes oh striped one."
"Ok if I finish my article now?"
""Ok."
"Ferd, I think we should have a crossword."
"Ok, only a strumpet wears pyjamas in the afternoon!"
"No, a crossword."
"Slattern!"

"Ferd, a crossword, where you put words in boxes, all proper papers have them."
"We’re a proper paper."
"Then where’s our crossword?"

Ferdinand: never a cross word.

Dolly helping Ferdinand with HTML coding!

"Ferd are you going to be long?"
"Don't know."
"Only I want to finish my article: the day we went to Electra's house."
"We didn't"
"We did."
"We didn't you followed me! Commentating."
"Well anyway are you?"
"What?"
"Going to be long on the computer?"
"Don't know."
"What you doing?"
"I'm doing html coding; trying to get rid of that funny black spot by my portrait."
"That's called your nose."
"Not that, that."
"Mmm see what you mean."



What if you press....?"

Dolly is not wearing pyjamas.

Oooh, ooh ooh. We're back on. Back on the world wide web.

Hello.

And, And I have an Ebay account.
Well it's not mine exactly but it is on this computer and sometimes a human being (not mentioning any names) forgets to log out.

So I've made an inventory, taken stock of my worldly goods!

There's my:
Photograph of Richard Madeley.
Silver frame.
Pink blanket (comes with ginger hair).
A cardboard box with a picture of a strawberry on the side.
And a bacon rind with my teeth marks.

So number one will be listed under Art, Photographs, Contemporary.
2/ Antiques, Silver, Solid Silver, Frames
3/ Home and Garden, Bedding
4/ Umm a bit more difficult. Other perhaps? No I know! Art. It's got that picture of a strawberry on the side -a print- and it's an old box so... Art, Prints, Antique Prints, Botanical/Plants. Fantastic.
5/ This is even more difficult. Collectible? Food and Drink, Other? Well I'm not sure. My teeth marks...

"Ferdinand."
"My..."
"Ferd."
"My teeth..."
"Ferdinand."
"What?"
"Ferd."
"What?"
"Ferd, Ferd."
"What, what?"

"It's the beeb."
"What is?"
"The BBC."
"What is the BBC?"
"Ferdinand don't you read the comments section."
"Not since an American called me an...!"
"Well we're going to be interviewed."
"What?"
"Interviewed, beeb, going to be. So stop writing about chewed bacon rinds and write something sensible."

"I am very handsome."
"And factual."
"With ginger hair."
"Punchy."
"Punch you?"
"Not me, you."
"I won’t hit you, you girl you."
"Hard hitting."
I’m not going to hit you Doll, hard or soft."
"Give me strength."
"That's why Doll, you’re not as strong as me one blow from these paws and..."
"Ferdinand. Write. Write something. Write something factual and surprising."

Dolly is not wearing pyjamas.


Ferdinand's inventory: making every word count.

Ferdinand: Facing Death with Fearless Fortitude

Ferdinand is going at a goodly pace. Stealthily keeping close to forecourt walls, I follow.
Ferdinand is wearing his tail very high; it's like looking at a tea towel holder.
"You following me?"
"You following me Ferdinand asks grumpily?"
"Dolly go away!"
"Ferdinand continuing on his journey hisses, go away."
"Will you stop repeating everything I say?"
"Ferdinand says, will you stop repeating everything I say?"

Facing with fortitude the threefold hazards of big black rubber wheels, the gnashing jaws of the canine lunatic fringe and the water throwing, bunny burning Mrs Bigginbottom, Ferdinand is making his way to Electra’s house (it's the spring, enough said...)

"Will you stop?"
"Ferdinand says, will you stop."
"Stop it."
"Ferdinand shouts, stop it."
"Stop ."
"Get out of the road you mangy ginger moggy," a male human bellows from his Ford Orion and salutes us with two fingers.

Wow! Ferdinand nearly got squished by one of the aforementioned big rubber wheels. Fortunately your roving reporter Dolly was on the pavement; Ferdinand who is not looking or concentrating on the job in hand was otherwise engaged shouting stop it at me.

Safely across the road Ferdinand's tail is held a little lower.
"What's he mean mangy moggy?"
"Ferdinand asks: what's he mean mangy moggy?"
"Will you stop repeating everything I say?"
"Ferdinand says will you stop repeating everything I say."
"Stop it."
"Stop it."

Ferdinand is approaching another road will he make it now? Can he concentrate for more than two seconds?
"Stop repeating everything I say."
"The technical term is running commentary!"
"Well just stop running after me with your commentary!"

He can’t think of anything other than Electra: brains are in his...
...Whooh that was close!
"Dolly you are going to get us both killed."

Dolly: Facing dangers boldly to bring the news. Roving reporter. The Kate Adie of the cat world.

Ferdinand: Facing Death with Fearless Fortitude.
"It's my postscript ."
Dolly: Danger cat.
Ferdinand: Handsome ginger cat (not a mangy moggy.)
Dolly: Jounalist.
Ferdinand: It's my blog!
"Ginger .... "
"Ouch"
"Get off."
"dscxf tbg Keyboard cmfrd hhh."
"zx gfv grt nbhjkjhkcxncx."!

Big Lil sleeping on the job.

"If I'm the editor and you're the proprietor!"

"And all round good-looking, good guy."
"What's Lil?"


"A sleeping partner!"



Ferdinand: newspaper magnate.

Ferdinand's relationship with Richard Madeley

Ferdinand is not good looking he's just a big head, a big ginger head. His relationship with Richard Madeley is a can of pilchards.I have never been introduced to Richard Madeley, makes me wonder if Ferdinand has something to hide...

It's Richard this and Richard that. He's a name dropper, and Richard Madeley has never invited him on the Richard and Judy show. He does have his photograph though -in the silver antique frame , but that could be a publicity photo.

Ferdinand says I can write my gossip column -ooh THANKS- but his friendship with Richard is off the agenda, perhaps he doesn't want my enquiring mind to enquire. I might turn up something, something fishy about his friendship.

So cods heads to you Ferdinand I am going to publish.

Written by Dolly: Editor.

Censored by Ferdinand: The bigot!

"I'm nit a bigot."

"You're right you are a nit."

"I'm not a bigot."

"Are."
"Not."
"Are, are, are."
"NOT."

"Nit."

I knew the first thing Dolly would gossip about in her column was Richard Madeley.

Ferdinand: telepathically talented.

Ferdinand and the problems of censorship.

Hmm.

I've decided that our Doll can write her gossip column, which is a big decision 'cos it means I'll have to act as censor - and I don't believe in censorship. A contradiction, I know. Why is everything so difficult?

It is so much easier, I reckon to view the world in black and white. I have explained that Richard Madeley and my good ginger self is out of bounds: what passes between him and me is sacrosanct, - but his skin has taken on a distinctive orange tone...

Oh, yes I am influential.
Where I go others can only follow.

Anyway I am flattered that Richard is turning orange, -a subliminal acknowledgment of my influence. BUT I wonder what Dolly -unlike me who rubs shoulders with the rich and the famous -will write about...?

Ferdinand : in the predicament of acting censor.

Ferdinand: Looking for a fallout shelter

Hmmm. See Dolly's been writing in my journal again!

The only dirty thing about Martin's weekend was Dolly's hair all over his clothes and his boots coated with mud!

"Hello Ferd."
"Oh blimey."
"Wish you'd stop muttering Ferd, you need to enunciate if you want to be heard."
"I don't."
"See that's what I mean, mumbling and muttering. Now what was it you said?"
"I said I just read your article."
"Good wasn't it!"
"You Dolly are a gossip."
"That Ferdinand is very apt because that's why I've come here; to tell you that I'm going to write a gossip column."
"Whooooh!"
"Knew you’d be pleased, must dash, things to do, beings to see."

Ferdinand: Looking for a fallout shelter -as well as a four-leaf clover...

Ferdinand: this is not a cat in a hat!

Martin was away for a dirty weekend!

Dolly decided to accompany him.

"All this cat’s fur on my clothes!"

Dirty, dirty boy!

There's the cat in the hat and there's letting the cat out of the bag but there's no getting Dolly out of this bag...

She just turned over and said...

"Do not disturb."

Ferdinand: this is not a cat in a hat!

Richard Madeley is back on the box

I’ve not been at all well!
Had terrible flu.
Haven't been out of my box for a week!
All my best-laid plans for the hunting of the lucky rabbits foot are gone asunder.

"Ferdinand."
"Streuth!"

"You have not had flu! you sneezed a couple of times most likely from Susan moving the dust around - you know that thing she does, calls it housework."
"It was flu, definitely flu. Probably avian flu I could keel over at any second."
"Well it could be avian flu I suppose."
"See knew you'd have to agree in the end."
"It could be avian flu 'cos you are a great big chicken -Roland rabbit is still a quadruped! Coward."
"I was too ill to go out."
"It's not healthy to lay around all day!"
"It's flu, it's not supposed to be healthy!"
"And that Barbie pink blanket you're laying around on is toooooo much Ferdinand in short you clash. I get a headache just from looking at you. "

"Don'"t look."
"What?"
"Nothing, just cleared my throat you know what it's like when you're all bunged up."
"Anyway just thought you'd like to know Richard Madeley's back on the telly."
"What? When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"'Cos you're not well and you need your rest!"
"Could have put my blanket on the sofa."
"No, we don’t want your germs and avian flu is dangerous you better stay in isolation for the foreseeable future."

And Dolly gave the one tail flick salute and left my conservatory.

Hmm. It is getting rather boring in this box and this blanket although very soft, pink is rather girlie....
I know. A change of plan. I'll look for a four-leaf clover – It'll mean waiting to the spring but I'm patient that's the sign of a great hunter. And with Richard Madeley back on the box I feel my lucks beginning to change. I may not even need a good luck symbol...

Ferdinand feeling better already.

Ferdinand: talking balls

Females eh, they're a whole different sex!

I was trying to concentrate. But the racket these three females managed to make broke even my concentration...!

"Ferdinand."
"Oh blimey. Yes, oh striped one."
"What's all this screwed up paper all over the floor?"

None of my plans for the lucky rabbit's foot seemed good enough. All were good of course just not up to my normal standard of excellence. I hadn't realized how busy I had been, my brain a fever of ideas all noted on paper and then screwed up.
"Balls."

"What's this? Oh groan. Doodles and diagrams, plans and plottings, ooh and look a map stained with bacon fat."
"Paper balls."

"Food glorious food..."
Big Lil is hungry.

"I have an idea how to separate Roland from a foot."
"Oh yeah!"
"He can hop about just as easily on three legs as four."
"Well!"
"Mind you the amount of time he spends incarcerated not sure he needs any legs at all."

"I'm anxious to try it."
"What is it?"
"Big Lil, of course."
"I know that."
"Why'd you ask then?"

"Three banquets a day..."

"Your idea..."
"You hungry Lil?” Susan -female human of the household- asked
"Susan's coming...!"
"Our favourite diet!"
"...Quick shove all this paper under the bench."
"What idea?"
"Give me a hand don't just sit there."
"Just picture a great big steak."
"What on earth..." Susan shouted and she never shouts at us!
"Help me Ferd." Dolly is shouting now.
"What's all this paper everywhere?" Susan again.
"Fried, roasted or stewed."
"Ferd will you lend a hand it's your mess. Susan will be here soon."
"She's here now."
"Stop talking out the side of your mouth." Dolly shouted.
"Dolly! What are you doing?” Susan asked.

"Oh, food," Lilly
"Dolly". Susan.
"Wonderful food," Lilly again.
"Ferdinand come on help me..." Dolly.
"Marvellous food," Lil.
"Ferdinand you lazy blighter!" Dolly.
"Glorious." Lil
"Dolly, will you stop shredding all this paper." Susan.
"But I..." Dolly.
"Don’t raise your paw to Ferdi!" Susan.
"Food." Lil.

"Come on Dolly out of here! Ferdinand you are such a gent. No trouble at all..." Susan said observantly.
"...Not like the other two!"

Peace, peace at last! Now where was I? No that’s no good, or that...

Ferdinand: talking balls -an ironic statement if ever there was one.

Ferdinand: in need of male liberation.

"I know why you’re not writing anything political anymore Ferdinand!"
" Mmmm."
"You listening to me?"
"Mmmm."
"Raymond psycho rabbit is in the garden!"
"What?"

"I said I know why you're not writing anything political anymore Ferdinand! It's 'cos you're writing on the BBC forum!"
"I am writing to the forum yes."
"And it's illegal."
"Illegal?"
"You're not allowed to pretend to be someone else."
"I gave them my full name, Ferdinand Felidae."
"You didn't tell them you were a cat; and a ginger cat to boot."
"I ticked all the boxes! There wasn't one marked tick here if you are a ginger cat."
"'spect it's all your bonkers political ideas no sensible being could agree with."

"I'm a liberal!"
"A libertine!"
"And a libertarian."
"A librarian."
"What?"

"Nothing just add libbing!"

Ferdinand: in need of male liberation.

Ferdinand, keeping grounded

Big Lil was sitting in a puddle of water, in the rain. A well placed paw kept the cat flap from opening. Lil dripped.

Susan banged on the window but Lil -deaf- sat on. "Dolly!" Susan shouted as the reason for Lil's sodden plight was revealed but Dolly the stroppey stripy strumpet wouldn't shift even when prodded with a green pompomed slipper.

So Susan came through my conservatory forcing the door -sticking resolutely to my New Years resolution of keeping the door locked- with the very same slipper that couldn't move Dolly.

"Oh Ferdi you been locked in? Lil locked out and you in!" And she waved her arms up and down so big Lil would notice.
"At least you won't get locked in again Ferd that old bolt is broken now."

Which means...
"Ferd."
"Go away."
"I wish you'd stop mumbling."
"How can I be of help oh striped one?"
"What you doing?"
"Googling."
"Wow Ferd we're flying."
"...And this Doll Is where I was born and that yellow pin is Gert's house. There's the sea and the lime trees..."
"Where's the rest of the sea?"
"I'll just pull out."
"Not so fast Ferd it's making me feel a bit giddy."
"Then zoom back in."
"Slower Ferd, I'm beginning to feel seasick- airsick."
"Or we can zoom right up like an astronaut."
"Ferd."
"Go round and round and round."
"Ferd I'm really getting queasy."
"And you can go faster in and out, and out and in, and round and about."
"Groan, eucckkkkkkk wrrruck..."
"Err Doll! Well at least you missed the keyboard!"



Ferdinand: famous astronaut and international pilot –keeping grounded by cleaning up after airsick passengers!

Ferdinand: the battle of the sexes

"What you doing?"
"Wasn't that door locked?"
"Yep, came in through the window."
"Must remember to close window."
"You're mumbling!"
"No I'm not!"
"What you doing?"
"I am pondering and planning?"
"Impossible!"
"What?"
"Impossible for a boy to do two things at once, that's why they're trainspotters."
"Trainspotters! I'm not going to ask what you're talking about because I'm busy and I don’t want to hear the answer."
"That's ok!"




"What d'ya mean trainspotters?"
"And psychopaths and stamp collectors."
"A psychopathic trainspotting stamp collector?"
"Could only be male!"

"Anyway I am planning, plotting my course and pondering the pursuit of a lucky rabbits foot."
"There is a flaw in your plan."
"And what is that oh striped one."
"They are all attached to his body."

"That's where the planning and thought comes in."
"Don't tell me you are going to request Raymond -rabid psycho rabbit- donate a foot to the FERDI good luck quest."

"It's because you're a girl you can't see the bigger picture!"

"Because males focus is singular, to the exclusion of all other information at a given time..."
"You've been on weblopedia again."
"May have."

"And 'cos your mind is on rabbit hunting you can't concentrate on anything else... Like the fact your backside is resting on a cactus!"
"Ouch!"

"Dolly would you help me get these thorns out of my bum!"
"Ok."
"Ouch."
"Keep still."
"Ooh, Ouch."
"Stop wriggling."
"Ooh ouch ooh ouch, ouch ooh."
"Ferdinand! I haven't started yet."
"Oh!"
"OW OUCOOOOOOOch! ooooooh!"
"Now I have."
"OOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooh."
"Think of something else."
"I can't, oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!"
"See! Typical boy."
"Grrrrrrrrrrr irl!"

Ferdinand: the battle of the sexes

Ferdinand's fleeting reverie

This is a problem page about ginger cats -oxymoron! This human being has the audacity to complain about the ginger cat who lives with him...!

My big fat ginger cat, just doesnt like me. He uses me ONLY when he wants to be fed.
Everytime i move close to him or he sees me coming he runs the other way. seriously!
Ok i DO bug him. most times i pick him up and squash him a bit coz he is like a big fat teddy bear...
What can i do to make him like me again?
Stop annoying him? or totally ignore him for a while? : rolleyes:

Unbelievable! but the “answer.” Answer! Anyway here it is...

I would try feeding him special treats and just petting him (if he lets you) while he eats them.

Ok not that bit.

Don't pick him up at all for a while, and only pet him when he lets you.

Or that!

Let him run away if he wants to, don't force him into anything.

Ok that’s good advice. But wait it's coming...

It may take a while, but he will eventually learn that he doesn't have to worry about you grabbing him, and will associate your petting him with treats.

Sort of all right -a little bit of bribery doesn't go amiss every now and again.

He may then become more friendly.

But finally here it is: The unconsidered opinion...

That being said, ginger and orange-coloured cats often have "issues". I've known many cats in my life, and the ginger coloured ones were always a bit strange behaviour-wise. Kind of similar to what occurs with white cats, who are also a little odd. So your kitty may simply have that ginger / white personality...

Odd! Strange!? I have the solution: move out, let this ginger cat share his house with a human being who appreciates our very fine gingery qualities. Like this human being from Australia. The perfect companion...

Sydney - An Australian bank has admitted issuing a credit card to a cat. Messiah, a ginger tom, was given a credit limit of AU$4 200

Wow his own credit card...

The envelope containing her cat's credit card was addressed to Messiah Campbell and she was not even notified that a secondary card had been issued on her account...

Just think of all the stuff he could buy: all the parties he could host. All the cream he could lap, all the prawns he could eat, all the chicken legs he could chomp...

The incident may have given the bank pause for thought, but any hopes Messiah may have had of making some large purchases of fish and cream were dashed when the card was cancelled.

Ooooooooooooouchh. And I was just about to emigrate.

Ferdinand's fleeting reverie

Do you feel lucky Ferdinand ginger cat?

Food, glorious food!
What wouldn't we give for
That extra bit more -

Lil watched Oliver over Christmas!

That's all that we live for.
Why should we be fated to
Do nothing but brood
On food,

Oliver the musical...!

Magical food,
Wonderful food,
Marvellous food,
Fabulous food,
Beautiful food,
Glorious food!

Ever since watching this musical she has taken to sitting by her food bowl and begging for more, a.k.a Oliver Twist - blasting out the full rendition of...

Food, glorious food!

Not long now...

We're anxious to try it.
Three banquets a day --
Our favourite diet!
Just picture a great big steak --
Fried, roasted or stewed.

Just the last verse to go...

Oh, food,
Wonderful food,
Marvellous food,
Glorious foooooooooooood.

Now with a bit of luck Susan will have put some grub in her bowl or...

Is it worth the waiting for?
If we live 'til eighty-four

...she'll start from the beginning again!

Not my lucky day! Do you feel lucky punk? Do you feel lucky Ferdinand ginger cat? A magnum .44 shoved up my hooter! I need my luck to change. This has not been a very good start to the year. You make your own luck, apparently and according to beings that have oodles of presents, bowls stuffed with food, a new collar and a brand new box. Which is not me. I need a lucky rabbit's foot and I know who's got four...

Ferdinand: Supreme hunter in hot pursuit of luck.

Ferdinand's New Year resolution!

H...
"Say happy New Year to everyone from me, Ferdinand."
H...
"You haven't wished anybody a happy and prosperous New Year yet? Honestly!
H...
"And Lilly would like to say happy New Year to everyone too. "
HA...
Sometimes Ferdinand you can be so..., so grumpy!
HA....
"Are you foul 'cos you didn't have a fowl Christmas day?"
I...
"Or is it because you is ginger?"
I...
"It's the Mickey taking the mickey!?"
HA...
"It's 'cos Fifi has escaped from the jar! "
H...
"I know what it is; it's because you had a thermometer shoved up your bum. Well you do wear your tail very high, makes it a sitting target- not that you did much sitting for a couple of days."
HA...
"Or it's because Richard Madeley is writing an autobiography about masculine relationships and he didn’t mention a thing about you."
H...
"Probably all of the above, you Ferdinand are just plain cantankerous!"
H. Ha. Harumph!

Ferdinand's New Year resolution: Keep the conservatory door locked!

P.S Happy New Year