Its life Bob, but not as we know it….

The elusive red spot still taunts me. The tortuous thing bothers me, aggravates me and most annoyingly of all, puzzles the hell out of me. Like a Japanese bullet train fuelled with RedBull, the Red Spots movements are so fast its nigh impossible to catch. Even when I’m sure to have caught it, it’ll be there, sat there, on my paw, mocking me. One strange thing about the Red Spot is it doesn’t appear to craw nor fly, instead appears only on surfaces, yet can jump almost instantly from one wall to another effortlessly. So I began to investigate this phenomenon further but without the ability of catching the demon spot, I feared my efforts would prove fruitless. I mostly know, it torments me constantly, why is it here, why does my human acquaintance not notice, does he just refuse to acknowledge this red dot? I have considered that they have befriended it, or are in collaboration with the cursed thing?

Further research about the aforementioned fiend is I can’t smell it! Now as a cat, my sense of smell is matched by no other. My sense of smell is far more superior to any human, even Prince Charles’s nose is no match for mine, and everything has a smell, even things that aren’t there have a smell, but not the red spot. This must mean that the red spot is beyond smell, maybe the red spot is of alien origin, or maybe even of a supernatural origin. Another thing that strikes me is its ability to dot from floor to ceiling, as if the very laws of gravity did not apply. In addition, and more disturbingly, the red spot has an ability to be in two places at once. For example, when the red dot sits on my play tunnel, it sits both inside and outside of the fabric, and when it lands on the force-field protecting the interdimensional vortex on the wall that leads to the parallel universe, it appears in both worlds simultaneously.
Many things confuse me lately, like why do the clouds sometimes fall down when it’s cold, or where does my poop keep disappearing to from the litter tray, although I suspect there to be a poop portal, I haven’t seen one yet, but I’m still digging…..

Handbags At Dawn

Life was once like being on a seesaw with nobody to play with; it was so boring out here. Now, unfortunately, or fortunately (however you look at it) I appear to have a little brother called Boo! I’ve yet to figure out just where the hell it came from, and what’s wrong with its eye, and where it mustered up the crazy idea it has a right to my food and to sit in my spot… My human says it’s a ‘playmate’, I tell you, me, with my IQ and people skills, I could charm a bird out from a tree, and this, thing, they call Boo is meant to be a worthy opponent? Ha!

Alas at first I admit I didn’t much care for my brother Boo, I could not have cared less if the grovelling codpiece drowned in a wave of dogs. But, I have of late warmed up to him; I’m thinking he might prove himself useful, in a dogsbody kind of way. He can be my Baldrick, or Watson, and maybe help in my quest for the cursed Red Spot. Maybe he can act as a distraction as I sneak up on said spot and finally catch it. Anyway, for now he is currently digging for my poop portal in the litter tray, so he is already proving his usefulness. I’d help him, but he leaves that litter tray in such an unholy mess I somewhat favour not to get involved.



Mad indeed must I be, for as evidently clear it is that the following event had indeed taken place, my very senses reject in denial. Alas as barbaric this event is; which tortures the very blood that screams through my veins, the most haunting part is the insane lack of humanity. This event holds no merit of logic, no apparent reason to have taken place at all. Fancy do I not to expound in pen the event in question that presents nothing shy of sheer horror, but my intentions I can assure you, in the penning of my thoughts, is to construct a logical understanding. I must hold a rational reason, for tortured I am with a perpetual question, the most important question of all the questions that have ever burdened my mind. Content must you be as reader that no sufficient emphasis can be bestowed to you of how critical an answer is desired. For what purpose could there be? What rational requirement could possibly justify such a brutal merciless unforgivable event? The vindictive removal of my kitteh pom-poms????


Meet Marmalade…

Allow me time, if you will, to impress upon you, the character of my dearest friend, and simultaneously, my most fiendish foe; Marmalade. According to legend, Marmalade has been around since the dawn of time (1992), and was even once worshiped by the Egyptians, known then as Bastet.

Marmalade is moderately a quiet cat, who indulges in only the simplest of pleasures such as bird watching and sleeping on IPods. However, behind this deceptive posturer beats the blood of no trivial house cat, but an intangible inferno of power and fury, like passion and rage, like a blazing conflagration of a thousand suns! Believe me, I know… Curiously I would very much like to be Marmalades friend, intrigued? You should be, for you see Marmalade, is remarkably wise and insightful; it is for this reason it is imperative that I tame this beast. She could be my most troublesome foe, or most useful ally, but with the latter in paw that iniquitous Red Spot would be no match…

It Was All About Bob

IMAG0516It grieves me to inform Bob’s many followers and friends that Bob is no longer with us. On the 29th of April 2013 Bob Mullaney was hit by a car not far from his home.

In the two years he’s been in the family he continually provided much needed joy through difficult times with his lovable quirky behaviour. His Jetson’s sound effects as he bounced sideways around the room like Professor Brainard’s Flubber, with his ‘go faster’ ears back and vacant walleyed expression.

May he be happy in Kitteh Heaven now, where it rains the Cheese flavoured Dreamies he was so addicted to, and maybe finally in possession of that little red dot that confused him so.

Lots of loads and loads of lots of love

A VERY loving family