Mufasa (2001-2011)

Seven and the regal tiger

Well, it's now been a week and there you have it. Apart from the photography fiasco (although I'll let this last one pass!) and certain strange sleeping patterns around here; everything seems to have taken a turn for the splendid!

I've yet to bother investigating whatever may lurk beyond the stairwell but someday soon, perhaps. I'll let you know. . . for now thanks for taking such a cultured interest in my affairs which I trust have been of the utmost inspiration.

Do drop by at more leisurely interludes, or whenever these otherwise frivolous times become too much of a strain on sophistication, sartorial elegance and sound sense!

M.

Groom for improvement

I'm not exactly keen on being held like a rugby ball although after an inept attempt or two the whole beastly business settled into something relatively smooth.

Maybe it was because it occurred just after my supper. I was similarly sprawled-out asleep during the latest ambush which at least managed to merit a purr along the way.

Besides, every urban sophisti-cat requires a reliable tailor to really look the part and there's absolutely no excuse at all for looking worse than something the cat dragged in! I'm only glad these sessions are being broached with some semblance of trepidation. Otherwise, I might get rather peeved in the process!

Anyway, I'll soon have a better 'barnet' than Limahl in his heyday for those au fait with male peacockery of a certain era!

Dandy of the feline world

This was supposed to be a photo-session with that tacky throwaway camera of his but for now I'm afraid you'll just have to settle for these crude offerings until the situation can be remedied - green neon eyes, I ask you!

Save a glare till the morning after

We seem to have struck a rather dreary truce.

Okay, I made a moderate din outside his door in the early hours but we soon reached an understanding that I should "Behave" upon being entrusted with the full run of the place.

And apart from a brief entanglement with the blinds, I adopted a far softer approach to inspecting his room between checks for any intention that his day might begin with that of the rest of creation.


Time to get up and hoover this hovel!

So there were few whiskers to the face, or purrs directly in the ear (a sly speciality by the way, which we know full well sounds almost identical to a 1970's lawnmower upon a cobbled street; if exercised with due precision although an aura of innocence is essential to that particular strategy!)

Nor was there a single meow in keeping with my part of the bargain thus avoiding the beastly reactions of yesterday morning; as if I'd just arrived back from the town centre singing Is this the way to Amarillo after ten pints of something sour!

Actually, I'm told we get quite a view of that lot come the weekend, so if I should sound condescending about a certain species from time to time, well, you have only your dear selves to blame: http://www.pbase.com/maciekda/cardiff_st_mary_street_zone

Awakened to the sound of birdsong

It's been a real battle of wills trying to get him out of his pit at 4am and I don't seem to be getting anywhere.

Surely that type of snoozing can wait until a respectable hour of the afternoon? I haven't resorted to sticking my tail under his nose while he's asleep although that manoeuvre has been known to have the same effect as Ken Dodd's tickling stick!

Everything's so much more invigorating before a new day begins; there's always something to rustle, the floor to be leapt at from 4ft high furniture, vertical blinds to run in and out of and of course; sporadic sprints from one room to the next.

I've actually been locked out of his room a couple of times now for my efforts which I'm beginning to sense are not entirely appreciated - particularly when distinct meows are met with an increasingly boorish SSSHHHH for whatever unfathomable reason.

I would have thought an incurable Durannie might be inclined to 'Reach up for the Sunrise' or at least let me have 'My own Way' but if he'd rather await the crude chimes of that sluggish alarm clock then so be it!

Settling in rather sweetly

I've put that escape plan on hold after three days of contemplating the matter.

For I now have access to both of the top floor rooms and I'm presently reclining on my feline-attuned friend's desk as he receives this dictation. (I would type the whole thing up myself of course but the keyboard is rather poorly set out for paws).

I've also started to meow, in moderation of course: for a single meow should command sufficient attention in its own right. However, I'm still slightly nervous about approaching footsteps and prefer that the visitor confirms his identity before I extend either a swift welcome, or maintain a safe inspection from beneath the spare room bed!

Still, such early days but there's the stairs to explore tomorrow even if the lobby below seems somewhat secure. Besides, I'll not venture down there unless the door of my own good room remains sufficiently open to ensure a rapid retreat from any strange sounds.

And there's another - you'll have to excuse me while I dash off to survey my domain. . .