Toni Writes: What Austin Was Really Like When He Was Small

Austin lies. Back in 2000, when Austin was just a nipper, he was so totally different from how he is today, you wouldn’t know it was the same cat. The only thing that he still is that he was back then is jet black. Austin was a scruffy kitten, with mad fur all over the place, completely untameable. He was also royally insane, and managed to destroy a cheese plant my father had had since he was at university by continually climbing up it. Austin spent most of his time pelting around madly and tumbling over – he couldn’t have been more different from the sleek, uber cool giant he is today.

Note from Austin: I am so going to bite you later.

Donncha Writes: The Call of the Wild

I KNOW. Where have I been? I know the whole interwebnet has been asking themselves where I am and sending emails to check I’m okay. Thanks both of you everyone!

It’s relatively quiet at Three Cats Towers at the moment. I’ve been enjoying some time outside singing with the sparrows, which leads to Paul trying to get me to say “I am a cat and a demon, not a sparrow” but I do NOT do it. Why can’t I be a sparrow? I so enjoy singing with them and I know they like my company, cos when I go outside to join in their chorus, all of them rush out of the tree REALLY fast to tell their friends I’ve arrived!

That aside, nowt to report. It’s been at least a week since a new toy was bought, but I’m told the humans are going shopping this very noon, so I’m expecting a big, fat apology toy. I’ve also been peeing on the bed quite a bit recently, and the FUSS they make over it, it’s really quite embarrassing for them. Austin was all like “hey, Donncha, why do you pee on the bed?” and I just gave him an uber cool look and said, “cos I can.”

Actually, most of the time I can’t, but it sounded cool. I can’t because whenever I within a three foot radius of the humans big bed, I’m being watched by either one or both of them. And if I so much as think about peeing, they’re all over me and throwing me in the bathroom, while yelling the always-boring “DON-A-CHAAAA” which, FYI, so doesn’t bother me anymore. And it’s not fair, cos sometimes I just wanna sit on the bed, not pee on it, but it’s like they don’t trust me no more or something.

Humans = weird.

Also, I totally chased Austin for an hour this morning – hee! In the end he got fed up of me and smacked me really hard on the nose, but I know – and he knows, deep down – who really won this morning’s confrontation: ME!

Austin writes: Lifestyles of the cute and the furry.

So, thought you might like to see all the stuff we own in this here flat. We get a fairly good go of it really, and this is my overview of what these “three cats” do in the “flat”.

This is our “area”. That’s right, we’ve got a whole area, we are that spoilt. It’s got our beds, the snug and the cat gym and is conveniently located next to a radiator. Also, that big black thing in the brown bed? Me.

This is the Ba-Da beam laser toy, the twins love it. I like it too, but I can never get near it because of those two idiots. The green thing shines out a laser that spins and twirls and you chase it. One of my favourites, probably because it’s one of the most expensive, and I have expensive tastes.

Yep, here at Three Cats Towers, we don’t have normal balls to play with. What do you think we are? Plebs? No, we have super engineered balls that do special things. The multicoloured thing is called a “Nobbly Bobbly” and has a bell inside and goes in all different directions. The pink this is a double ball, meaning it has a life of it’s own. Not things I play with much, but Darcy loves ‘em.

Thought y’all might like to see that DVD I won. I let the humans watch it sometimes.

My favourite toy is here; the heart. It’s furry and does my head in, so I regularly kill it. Also pictured is one of the many mice toys we have, a particular favourite of Darcy. Oh, and a standard red ball. Don’t know why that’s there.

This is the Idiot Boy modelling the Cat Nip mat. Underneath the arch is a raised play surface and some mirrors, and the entire thing is packed with The Nip. We all go mad on it sometimes, it’s very battered.

Some of the dangly toys we have, just various versions of “a stick with feathers on it”. I, of course, am a nice, mature Moody-Murphy and I don’t play with childish toys such as these. No, these are just for the retard twins who have no class.

Hey! How’d that get in here?! I can explain… I’m not playing with a dangle toy… I’m… er… watching the twins do it. See the twins in the picture? Yeah, I’m watching them play. And I’ve got my paw raised because… I was applauding them. Yeah.

We do have a load of other stuff, but enough for one day. I’ve been awake for two whole hours, you know, so I’m well overdue for a nap.

Austin writes: How I Got My Name.

It has come to some people’s attention, after reading the about page of this blog, that I, Austin, do not have the same surname as the humans. My full name is Austin Moody-Murphy, which might sound stupid, but is not my fault.

Firstly, Toni is to blame. Back in the day before I was born, good old Toni was utterly and absolutely obsessed with a certain rugby player name Austin Healey.

<—– That’s him, there, in case you care. Toni, being totally rugby obsessed and totally Healey obsessed, decided that she’d call her new cat (that’d be me) Austin in an ode to the object of her affections. It got shorted to Oz, and that was me, born in July 2000 and named after a rugby player. (Note from Toni: and a very good rugby player, at that).

And you’d think, really, that that would be the end of it, wouldn’t you? That, when it came to me, she’d exhausted her naming-cats-after-rugby-players possibilities, don’t you? Had I not suffered enough? Well, no. She and Paul were chatting one day about how I was named after Austin Healey, and they jokingly said they were give me a surname also after a rugby player. And before you ask, no, there isn’t a Moody-Murphy player out there – but there is a Lewis Moody and a Geordan Murphy. Here they are:

 

Now when deciding my “surname” (what is wrong with my humans?) they couldn’t decide which to go for. You see, Geordan Murphy is Irish – like Paul. Lewis Moody is English – like Toni. So they couldn’t decide, and in the end said “Moody-Murphy” and found it really funny, and unfortunately, it stuck.

So here I am, named after three Leicester Tigers rugby players. This was all cemented when Paul came home from the pub with three entry cards to win a trip to see the British Lions play in New Zealand in 2005. Toni filled one out for her, one for Paul, and then used the third as “me”, filling out Austin Moody-Murphy as the competition entrant. Amazingly, I won! Not the trip to NZ, but a DVD of the previous Lions tour. How many cats do you know who officially own their own DVD? Huh? How cool am I?

I’m even registered at the vet as “Austin Moody-Murphy”. I like it, actually, gives me a sense of identity away from the humans. So yes, that is how I got my name.

Austin writes: Shut. Him. Up.

I hate Donncha.

I really do. That little shit is being a complete arse, just because he’s on a diet. Do not fret, I am not on a diet, beings as I am a nice trim Austin Moody-Murphy and perfection cannot be changed, but Donncha is, and he is moaning about it. All. The. Frigging. Time.

Now, I am not fat, because I eat really slowly. Like, Darcy and Donncha have finished, had a nap and are playing together by the time I’m done. I’m very precise. Each chunk must be chewed a set amount of times, and I will insert long pauses into my eating routine. It’s only polite. Only complete social idiots like that Donncha wolf down food the second it hits the plate. I, on the other hand, take my time and appreciate the various flavours. This is just further proof that I am refined and Donncha is a moron.

As he’s hungry, he won’t shut up. Always miaowing, always getting yelled at by the humans for peeing on their bed. Really, what is wrong with the boy? I myself have been here four years and have never once used anything but the litter trays as a toilet facility.

And I am appreciated. Today, the female human said: “God, I wish the twins were as sensible and normal as Austin.”

Which is quite nice, really. I may allow her to pet me later.

Austin writes: They did it then.

The humans did it then. A blog. But I’m just lead to wonder… who the hell cares? I won’t be updating much, I have a world takeover to plan, you know. Oh, and if anyone wants to send me some seafood stuff, comment, I’ll give you the address, and I’ll move you from the “Definitely Destined To Die” list to the “Perhaps Not Quite So Destined To Die” list for when the revolution comes. And believe me people, it’s a coming.

F.A.Q. with Austin

Omigod, you’re the cutest things alive!
We know, but we appreciate you taking the time to tell us.

You three don’t really write this blog, do you?
Do you think we cats do not watch the humans and observe? And learn? We do, my friend, and your pets may right now be observing you and plotting your downfall. It’s what I’d do.

Can I buy you?
No.

My cats aren’t as good as you. Can I make them more like you?
It is understandable you wish your cats to be more like me, but I am a one and only and I’m afraid I already have a semi-decent home with these humans so I won’t be leaving. There is no point trying to duplicate me. I am a one-off act of genius.

I don’t like cats, you suck!
Not to point out the obvious here thicko, but why the hell have you visited a blog called “Three Cats In A Flat”? Did you think it was maybe about turtles in a condo? And cats do not suck, apart from that one time when Donncha thought he could get milk out of Paul’s nipples, but we don’t speak of that often.

Do you really want to take over the world?
What is this nonsense? I already control the world. I have every politician on my payroll. Apart from George W Bush. I may be a cat, but even I can see he’s a tosser. (Gordon Brown likes to call me the Oz-Meister, by the way).

Do you like your humans?
Erm… sometimes. When they feed me fish or fuss that sweet spot just in front of my ears. The rest of the time they’re pretty pointless.

Who are your influences, Austin?
Influences? I am a complete one-off and am influenced by no one, though I do have a sneaking admiration for Konnie Huq.

Who is more powerful; you or God?
Me.

Are you all neutered/spayed?
Yes, oddly enough the humans are actually quite responsible cat owners, despite how lacking they often seem. I was done many a year ago, and Darcy and Donncha were done as soon as they were old enough. We didn’t want any kittens with a brother and sister for a parents; they’d be cute, but they’d have six legs.

Is a flat really a good environment for three cats?
Absolutely. We have outdoor access via a balcony so we can feel the wind in our fur. The flat is plenty big enough, with lots of nooks and crannies to play in, and we have areas dedicated purely to us. There’s plenty of space to run around in, which the idiot twins take advantage of all the freaking time. I used to be an outdoor cat and I frigging hated it, so I’m very happy with the current situation. Anyway, who are you to question my humans? If you think they are doing something wrong, that reflects badly on I, their owners, and I DON’T TAKE KINDLY TO THAT, MINION. Back in your place, please.

Didn’t you use to be a real bad ass?
There were periods when I was not a nice cat and bit the humans and the other two all the time. Now I am a reformed character and am easily the best behaved of the three of us, because those two idiots? Mental. Utterly mental.

But didn’t you once bite Toni so hard she bled?
Yeah, I did *snicker* And I bit the vet so hard that he bled as well. Happy memories… but anyway, that’s not me now. Reformed character.

Is it true you used to live in a garage?
Sadly so. When Toni’s Dad married a woman I call The Bitch From Hell, I was consigned to the garage – in all weathers may I add. Toni was actually pretty cool about it and had loads of screaming rows with The Bitch From Hell about my living conditions but to no avail. Then Toni moved in with Paul, and within weeks I was out of the Hell-hole and living with these two. Happiest day of my life, that was.

So compared to you, Donncha and Darcy have had it pretty easy?
At three months old they came to live here, and in truth, it’s okay here. We’re really spoilt, for a start, and it’s NOT A GARAGE, so you know, I like it. So no, compared to me, the twins are wusses. They don’t even know their born.