Donncha writes: Product review and Darcy’s weirdness.

We DID GET SOMETHING IN THE POST TODAY! But it was not that new bed that Toni has been going on about for the last YEAR. No, that has been “delayed” according to the email Toni read to me earlier, which is so not on, but anyway. What did arrive was these:

Yes! Tail teasers from Pet Planet (£1.99)! You put a bag of cat nip (cat nip! cat nip!) in their mouths and then… you unleash the Donncha Demon! We got two crocodiles, which was apparently a mistake as we’d only ordered one (note from Toni: I have checked and we also only paid for one, so happy times). And I? I totally killed them. I chased them around for hours and now they’re all weak and dead.

I was also high on this cat nip that was also bought, so I was having mega, MEGA fun. But seriously, those toys totally rule. And £1.99? Why, we could have one for every day of the week… (HINT, Toni, HINT).

Also, I think my sister has lost it a bit. She wrote about these toys earlier but she called them MICE. What the hell? They are very clearly crocodiles. It must be the nip, which it has to be said, seems to affect her twice as much as it does me and Austin. And it makes her VIOLENT. She attacks you for like, no reason, or smacks you for chasing her tail or something. Iss-ues.

And (why, this is a long post) Toni got some runes the other day and has been doing loads of “readings” with them. I listened in on one, where she asked these runes (which it must be said, aren’t very impressive. Lumps of rock, really) “will Paul and I have children?” and she pulled out the rune for Fertility – out of all the runes, she got that one! I don’t want any human children around here, thank you very much! I am Toni’s baby and that is how it will stay, mmk?

Also, she’s a wee bit pissed off with me because the feather quill she bought for doing her witch-stuff (so glad it isn’t the 1600s, cos Toni would be D-E-A-D)… well, that quill is kind of bent and ruffled at the end. And I do not know how that happened. Shocking, really.

Still, maybe the bed will arrive tomorrow? And if it doesn’t, Toni’s still got money left over on her Pet Planet vouchers, so there’ll be new stuff soon anyway! But I really want that bed. Bah to Pet Supermarket.

Donncha writes: I am still NOT FAT.

Just thought I should remind you all of that, mmmk?

This diet thing is so boring now. The One I Used To Call Daddy seems to be oblivious to my constant screams for attention and food and is only feeding me when he wants to. It’s really quite annoying.

Still, I’m due my fortnightly measurements tomorrow, so if they come back okay (which they will because I AM NOT FAT) I’ll be off this stupid diet and snarfling away merrily. Can’t come quick enough, readers, can’t come quick enough.

Also, Darcy just licked a lightbulb for the second time. And they call ME stupid.

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.

Donncha writes: The one where I am a complete nightmare.

Houston, we have a problem. Actually: Blogging world, we have a problem.

I have been put on a diet.

ME! I’m what, five pounds? If that? But just because my stupid sister is stupidly small, I look big in comparison. Is it my fault she forgot to grow? IS IT? CAN YOU BLAME A DONNCHA DEMON FOR THAT? HUH?

The answer, as you, reasonable person, have probably deduced, is “no”. It is not my fault. Nor is it my fault that I am mainly black but am white on my belly, thus creating an optical illusion of weight! Why don’t the humans understand this? Why am I being forced to live like this? I’m sure it’s because they keep watching that stupid Animal Channel and going “ooh, how can someone let their cat get so fat?” so now they are persecuting me because they want to feel like responsible owners.

And shutupshutupshutup about those measurements that came back a touch wide. It’s water weight. SHUT UP.

Now, I am not taking this lightly. Not one bit. Y’see, usually, I want food, I get food. THAT IS HOW IT WORKS. But no, the humans have gone messing with the system and everything, and now, I want food, and I DON’T GET NO FOOD. I get that stupid ginger thing I used to call “Daddy” going, “oh Donncha, do shut up, you can’t have food, you’re on a diet”.

Now, what is the point of that human if it is not to feed me? I get the point of the one I used to call Mummy. I am her favourite and I can get away with murder around her, but this red haired thing? I’m not even his second favourite. And we’re only a three cat household, ya know?

So when I don’t get fed, I make some noise. And I pee on the humans bed. And GOD, they don’t like that. It’s all “OH MY GOD DONNNN-AAAA-CAAAAAA” and talks about “cat training” and the endless “what are we going to do with him?” chat. It’s such rubbish. And also? So simple. If there is pee on your bed, it is because you are withholding food, okay? So, you want no pee on bed? FEED ME WHEN I WANT (and make it tuna while you’re at it).

You know, I get called stupid, but I think my humans are the stupidest there is. Now they won’t let me go on their bed without staring at me like I’m gonna do something wrong. GET THE MESSAGE? No food = pee on bed. Food = no pee on bed. Quid pro quo, Clarice? (God, I love that film. Disappointing amount of lambs in it, though).

And this is all completely pointless anyway because I AM NOT FAT.

Donncha writes: I ate her newspaper!

I did! I totally shredded it! Before she’d even read it!

I laid down on it, nice and comfy, when I figured I might as well tear it to pieces. What else are these things for? Paul-Daddy is always going on about how evil the Daily Mail is anyway, so I figure I did a public service and saved Toni-Mummy from herself.

You shoulda seen it though, I totally destroyed it I did. And I so got my own way, because she decided it was ruined so I might as well have it all.

Any rumours about me accidentally eating some of the bits I tore off are untrue and hurtful.

Also today: I chased Darcy around the flat. For an hour. M&D weren’t overly delighted, but I enjoyed myself.

Oh, and we have a new blog. This one is much easier to update.

Must dash, sister to chase. (I AM STILL NOT FAT).

Toni writes: He done gone ate my newspaper.

Donncha has a thing about newspapers. We’re used to this, even if we wish he wouldn’t tear them up before we’ve even had chance to read them. But what he did to my copy of the Daily Mail today (I know, probably my punishment for reading it in the first place) went beyond “oh cute” and into “omigod you little bollocks” land.

It has several gashes in it, some six inches long. And I had to stop the stupid thing from choking on several ripped up pieces he was trying to digest.

Darcy and Austin are really quite sensible, but Donncha? He’s got issues.

Donncha writes: HAVOC!

I was a pain in the arse today! Go Donncha!

Mummy was doing this sellotape thing, so I sat with her on her left watching her. She was sticking that sellotape stuff to some flyers for Daddy’s French business. I was helping. By “helping” I mean, not helping, and in fact, making life a lot more difficult for my poor Ma. See, the sellotape was very chaseable, so every time she snatched off a bit, I chased it. She did the whole “DON-A-CHAAAAAAAAA” thing and tried to push me away, so I went for a walk.

AND I FOUND AN OPEN DRAWER!

Now, there is very little in this world I like more than an open drawer. So in I got, and for awhile I sat in my drawer next to Mummy, staring at her waiting for her to notice. When she eventually did (following a miaow from me) she started laughing and said “Paul, look what the idiot boy has done now”. Which isn’t very nice, you know? Then, laughing, SHE SHUT THE DRAWER WITH ME STILL IN IT!

It was quite a big drawer, so no harm, and I settled down for a sleep. Then Mummy had a conscience attack and opened the drawer, but I was quite happy in it, so I stayed. She went back to her sellotape and when she next looked back, I’d gotten myself down BEHIND the drawer! And – STUCK! I was totally stuck! Because she tried to get me out by pushing the drawer against me, but I couldn’t get out! STUCK! FUNNY!

In the end, Darcy padded over and jumped in with me. Mummy was a bit annoyed by now, but when she wasn’t looking Darce pushed the drawer a bit and I got out. I so love my sister. But really, I’d done Mummy’s head in with my drawer escapades. She says she wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t a twice daily occurence, which is such an exaggeration.

More like once a day. I like drawers, okay?

But they can’t be too pissed at me, because WE GOT SARDINES FOR DINNER!

Also, we got measured, which was not so fun. Darcy is something like 13 inches around the stomach and I… am a bit more. Austin, though, is a wopping 18 inches (he is a BIG CAT) but when they’d done measuring Mummy was all “Austin and Donncha aren’t fat but they could do with losing an inch”. To which Daddy replied “we’ll watch what they eat”. GAH! SOMEONE ADOPT ME NOW!

And to really piss me off, they actually said Darcy was underweight and are going to feed her up. Life isn’t fair, just cos me and Austin and bigger boned than that stupid little thing. Bah. I still got sardines, though I fear they may be the last I see for awhile.

Also: I AM NOT FAT.

The end.