Igpuss is gone. Read about it at the cats’ site, if you wish.
I’m not sleeping at all well at the moment, for various reasons, and I’ve learned to just get up and do something else rather than lie in bed.
But it does seem a particular kind of madness to suddenly decide that I needed to find all the cats’ microchip details at 4:45 in the morning. And I can’t find them anyway, or not all of them.
[later] Yay – found the Identichip certificates for the two oldest cats. Just EnRon’s to locate now, and I think I know where they are.
[later still] – No, Iggy’s still missing. That’s an arse.
Next door is having their extension refettled – this is an irritating process, given we work in the room just above where it’s being done, but no matter. Steve the builder is fascinated by the cats, and the other day when I went out, he said “that golden one’s caught a bird”.
This seemed unlikely, to be honest – Iggy has never been much of a one for hunting, and he’s a bit of a creaky old man these days, but Steve the builder was emphatic. And indeed, Iggy was under the patio table with an unfortunate ex-bird. Apparently he moved “very quickly”.
Having caught the bird, he didn’t seem quite sure what to do next. No matter, really, as the thieving Ron nicked it out from under Iggy’s paws, and had it away on his toes.
Not really the sort of behaviour we would wish for, you might think, and you’d be right. Ron scampered around the garden with it firmly clenched in his jaws for a bit, while we failed to retrieve it (as usual). Eventually he reappeared without it, so we assume it was scoffed.
He really is a dreadful beast.
And pronounces it unsatisfactory.
Originally posted at the Jordan Cats.
Our weekend consisted of:
- Show of Hands at the Fiddlers – almost, but not quite, spoiled by a bunch of six Hooray Henry types, who shouted conversations at each other all the way through the show, despite many people asking them to stop. My conversation with them was to ask them to be quiet, because we’d come to listen to the music, and if they wanted to talk there was a bar over there [points]. Their response was that they’d paid for the tickets, and they hadn’t seen each other for two years, and thus they were entitled to catch up with news. Arses.
- decorating with kittens – a tough job, but completed on time and without too much trauma. We also took up the bathroom carpet and deal with the horrors beneath – 30 year old linoleum held down with about 30 tacks per m2, which had to be either pulled out, or banged in with a hammer. The hall is now painted a sophisitcated shade of very pale grey, and we may have to move out, as the trauma of having it finished may be almost too much.
- X Factor on Saturday night – *why* is the leprechaun still in there?, and Pub Quiz on Sunday with Pat’n’Dave (WANOLJ). We came fourth, which is not good – we aim for second (as the winners have to buy the prizes for the next time).
And all this with a filthy cold, thankyouverymuch.