,There is nothing nicer than a good long sleep.  Something we have all been lacking here in the last few weeks.  It has been a whirlwind of excitement since the Minicats were born and not everyone has managed a good catnap.  Especially Momma & Flaire.  The Minicats on the other paw have slept and grown and slept and eaten and grown and slept and grown some more.  At two and a bit weeks they have escalated to the great heights of 300g a piece.  Nearly a kilo between them!  They are like two pale bratwurst and a black pudding, just waiting to be munched up. 

The scientists say that sleep is naturally recurring state of mind and body.  That you are in an altered consciousness and you are inhibited in movement.  There is also a dream state and something called REM. (rapid eye movement).  The only rapid eye movement around here is when we see food being shoveled into Flaire's bowl to keep her kittens fat and happy at the milky bar.

These fancy scientists should meet Lillibet in her dream state.  She thrashes about like a cat on a hot tin roof.  Momma often wakes her from these moments trying to reach her and bring her back from a dreamfull sleep where she must be chasing me or pearl or thwakking poor Flaire?  She does have long periods of comatose sleep, we all do.  Momma will often kiss us when we are deeply kipping and each of us is so sweet natured, we curl our toes and smile whilst she nuzzles her face into our tummies or kisses our mousy feet.

Apparently, dreams are like a fantasy.  I know I dream and am usually disappointed when I wake as it is not a lush thick sirloin I am licking, but my own paw!  Oh the travesty of waking up to that!  With tummy rumbling, I head to the food machine and wait for it to open and I stare at it hoping, it too, might be a lush sirloin steak.  But alas, it is just turkey kibble - AGAIN!

I Think the kittens do all their growing when they sleep.  You can see them twitch right before your eyes and with each twitch a teeny tiny amount of fur spurts out and claws grow.  They wriggle and flinch and just there, a leg grew a further micron, a nanometer.  How do you measure a kittens growth anyway? In horses it's hands, but one kitten is equal to half a human hand at birth, then grows way beyond this when 6 weeks old.  We are talking about minute growth here.  I hear there is a planck measurement, however, kittens are too young to plank, they just don't have the core muscles it takes! I reckon everything should be measured in 'licks'. It takes 2 long licks or 5 short licks from top to tail of a 2 week old kitten and as they grow the licks get longer or more frequent depending on your measurement technique.  Z = n x [Z] = n [Z] so if Z = 2 licks then Z = 2 [Z] = 2 licks. My calculus is rusty, but I feel we could formulate a good measurement verses growth plan given time.  For now, I need a good sleep.

To all my resting, sleeping and dozing citizens, enjoy your Sunday R&R

​Your Queen Vee =^..^=
​

It starts in the mornings when ManSlave is getting ready for his day at work. Lillibet sits on the loo, watches him shower then helps him shave, she then announces that he has finished and races about exciting everyone. Once he dries off, opens the wardrobe to get out a clean shirt that's when I immediately jump onto his shoulder and there I wait for my snax which are kept in the same cupboard.  The other felines wait patiently on the bed, with Lillibet still squeaking to make sure she isn't missed out.  Routine is everything you see.

Momma is in the other room with Flaire doing their routine with the minicats.  Weighing them and preparing Flaire's brekki.  This is when I swap rooms and try to steal the empty packets to take away, growling, into my bed to lick the juices from the bottom by biting hundreds of tiny holes into it and licking the oozy mess. Except, sometimes, Momma is busy and goes off to do other jobs and leaves things out that I could pinch.  King Slinky left me instructions on how to get into boxes or bags of food.  At first I thought I didn't really need to break into bags of food because we are free fed.  However, it has become a game!

Yesterday, there was a food delivery and in the big box was 6 smaller boxes all wrapped in plastic.  Then their inner boxes and into the 12 sachet box.  Oh I could smell them.  I knew what they housed.  I was salivating just imagining a full packet in my hidy-hole. So, whilst the family were busy, I started tearing and taring and ripping and mutilating the boxes, plastic and then I was on the inside.  I forced out a packet of food through a tiny hole.  I growled and struggled and pulled until it came loose.  Then I proceeded to chew it and shred it to get to the insides.  I didn't want the food, but the rich gravy inside.  So after the first pack was void of liquid, I went back for another and another and another until I had devoured all the juice from 12 sachets of food.  It was so delicious.  ManSlave caught me after I had done the deed.  He stood like a robot in total shock at the carnage.  I sat happily in the middle of my creation, covered in sauce and washing my paws.

I can't tell you about the tummy ache I had that night.  I lay there trying to sleep with a bag of snakes in my belly.  In some ways it was worth every lick and in others, my waist line has expanded - that is no good for showtime or meeting boys!  I didn't pinch anything for a whole day, not being able to look another packet in the eye.  Just as you think you will never do it again, I couldn't help being there at breakfast again and whisking away the empty packet, growling and running into my bed again.  I won't change - I have an internal foody gene!

​Lots of whiskery kisses from your Queen Viktory Vee

I am an Auntie again.  Whoopee.  I am an AUNT seven times over now and among all those nieces A BOY!  Another Maystar boy.  He is going to be very special and already his Mum Flaire tells him he will be a king among kings and part of the special elite.   Already his little chocolate head has grown far too big for the kitten box.  Oh my, he is going to be a right little spoiled boy.

This morning Flaire wanted the babies moved to the kitten box where we all grew up.  It is safe in there.  Yesterday, she was having fluids pumped into her at the vets, so I think she wanted her babies in the safest place possible once they were all home.  I snuck into the Kitten Room and had me a little peak and to make sure my 'skin & blister' was well.  She kissed me on my ear and pirruped at me and then allowed me to look into the kitten box to see my new family members.  It was then I spotted double trouble.  Oh no, I reeled back, GIRLS!  I hot tailed it out to tell Pearl that she had a half brother and TWO half Sisters.  We know what this this means.... The Summer vacations in Amara the Caravan are going to get mightily crowded!  Pearl stamped her feet in her brat like fashion.  No, no, no I don't want a sister from another mister!

These wee bairns are just darling and so fat and chubby. Flaire really is giving them every ounce of herself.  They are, of course, very feisty and all after that one nipple that has the magic growing potion in it.  It smells different to the other nipples and worth the fight.  Me, I didn't have to fight, I had a complete array of nips to drink from being the only child, I could have the magic growing nipple every day!  These little squeakers really do hammer each other about.  I can see Momma lifting them out in a few days to snip their claws back a bit - that will be a funny sight, she needs huge binoculars just to see tiny things now. It will be a major deal.  Operation Claw Trim.  Out with the overhead light, on with the spot light and popped under a magnifying glass with clippers as long as them.  Their nails no bigger than a flea riding a gnat. 

Today, Momma and I are in bed.  Momma had to hand feed the trio because Barry White, their Daddy, is a different blood type and they would have gone to heaven before life even begins.  This was a 20hr ordeal plus delivery time and the nights before where Flaire stood on her windpipe to wake her every hour for a belly rub.  It has been long nights since they were born, Momma looking after Flaire as she was so tired and wouldn't eat properly.  So today, it is ME TIME!  Time for me and time for snuggles. I have missed her and each time she would surface from the kitten room, I would wake up from outside the door and demand a cuddle.  All of us feel a bit bereft of love, even Faith is being funny to lift our spirits. Carrying toys and calling us with her mouth full, then slapping us if we turn up!  Now, King Slinky left instructions in his will about the rights to CatLine - I need to find out if it does exist.  We can't be short on love you know!

Well, Pearl and I are yelling for boy cats, but that new Kit on the block, Otta just isn't ready for me yet, so I have to wait!  I will be a spinster before I get a boy cat and Pearl is FAR too young to be yelling 3 times in a month, but yell she does!  She is also bigger than me, but I weigh more - go figure!  I work out more than she does, she is a slother and a sleeper. I am a wildling and runner.  Well, except for today, I am a kisser, smoocher, snuggler and snoozer, I do see the attraction!

Your loving Queen Viktori Vee =^..^=

​  

A cats home is their castle. Well, ok, a cardboard box. Momma is a master box maker and we are never short as ManSlave is forever ordering this or that from the great box company. The doorbell goes and there is another box delivered just for us filled to the brim with packing paper and more mini boxes fit for a queen.. The very big boxes come from our food companies and I swear Momma orders lots of stuff just so we might have a new castle or wendyhouse.. Once she built us a castle with two floors and a wavy flag that got lots of sniffing and much nibbling. The Drawbridge on that one was small and discrete with intricate wood work, so intricate that Faith was terrified to cross it and gave it a wide berth for days. We fought some good fights in that castle and so wanted to take it away with us in Amara, but it just wouldn't fit so it had to stay home. Once home after a week away we ate it like termites and we raised it to the ground like an old ruin. It made its way out into the catpod and was disposed of. We shall never forget that one.

A few weeks ago, Momma was working another catshow and she came home with a special raffle prize of a box that matches our new wood flooring, it is really good and solid. Faith has moved in and is now paying rent, so no one else can squat now. She is adamant it is her sole property, she is just saying that so thre is no inheritance tax for Lillibet to pay. It has been chewed a bit around the doorway, but other than the odd nibble, it is holding up ok. It is no castle, more like a fancy retro style abode. Faith has no intentions moving out no matter how bijou. Last week, she had a break in and they stole the cat snax she had stored in the corner. The robber dropped a large oversized paper clip on their way out, Faith thought about handing it over so it could be dusted for paw prints, but it seems it is the best game ever, so it stays! She now has surveylance cameras in action to catch her cat burglar.

Our latest stronghold is a purpose built hide that Momma worked very hard for at the Supreme Cat show last weekend. The lovely folks from Crystal Clear Pet Products gave it to her for helping out on the stand along with a ton of cat litter. It is a purpose built intricate design with specially adapted cat shaped holes and scratch pads. It is serious amounts of fun. Great for those inside to haul up with supplies and those outside to battle their way into. On one occassion, after a particularly rough and eventful play, Pearl and I couldn't turn inside together and out through the side we poured, trashing the castle walls and destroying the keep. Momma fixed the impromptu draw bridge with her magic glue gun and it is now withstanding further battles with more efficiency. Although, without being rude, Flaire now needs a drawbridge to come and go because of the size of her expansive belly housing future kings and queens. She is being very rude to everyone and shouting "Off with their heads" at every moment. We rolled her out of the broken bailey, down the drawbridge and into the mote. She may return later but we shall defend our little desrez with honour.

The fascination of the moment is trying to break into a round box wrapped with deliciously tantalizing whale paper, not made from whales, it has whales on it! Anyway, it is currently sitting in the washing basket on top of our xmas gifts from Jaz and Jamie. It has been put there because the door can be closed, however, that doesn't stop that Lillibet from sneaking in undetected then the tearing ensues and she is found with huge mouthfulls of the stuff making out it is not her that has done it and she is meerly replacing the torn bits she found! Likely story! Who is going to believe that? But that round box with its beautiful and sumptuous string is such a tease as she lays there semi naked and down to her xmas wrapping underneath. Apparently, the two devishly Irish demons already fancied a nibble before it left the shores of Cobh. We too can smell lots of things in there and we just can not wait to unpack it. I see Lillibet eyeing it up again, so I thwak her for good measure to keep her brain off it, her blaggers story doesn't wash with me!

There has been a stack of archive boxes as tall as sky scrapers outside the office door for a whole year, we nibbled evry lid edge and crimped the handle holes so badly that most were replaced. This made more fun as there, just for us, were even more places to hide, jump, play and fight in. That was until,Momma made them into a Telephone box for Mr Otta's Supreme Pen last weekend. Hence why I think the Crystal Clear folks felt sorry for us and sent a new one home.. we are catigorically NOT allowed to play anywhere near it and for safe measure it now lives at Whimzeerex with Otta. That I find quite amusing - those naughty lot are twice as bad as us and twice in number!

righty ho, time for a scout about the floors for bits of fluff and things I can eat. All this telling tales has worn me out and I require some r&r (revenge & retribution)

​lots of warm fuzzy kisses from your Queen Viktori Vee

It is Mani-Pedi day and everyone has to have claws trimmed back and wild eyebrows that bend into our eyes and make them sore, tamed. Along with this is an eye bath, well, OK, cat grit removed from the corners of our eyes. Then is the BIGGIE.  Only some of us need it - NOT ME! I am whistle clean and as sparkly as a new pin in the '3rd eye' department.  But that kitten, Pearl, Maybe it is because she is a perfect peach colour does her butt have the darkness of a Halloween Night and to me it smells like the pits of despair.  She point blank refuses to wash her own muck, snarling her lips into a crude smile when she washes too close to the edge. This leaves a slightly damp pungent aroma wherever she trails her tail and we all have a good sniff and recoil in horror.  It must run in the family. Flaire too, at the moment, is leaving the butthole to the great unwashed. OK, she can be forgiven, she can't bend over that far because her belly is full of teeny tiny next generation Maystarlings and washing anything other than her face and belly is out. 

The Mani-Pedi is OK, I am the very best at it and never utter a word. Laying there whilst I am trimmed, filed and polished. Anything to be next to Momma.  I love Momma and she can do no wrong in my eyes.  Pearl, on the other paw, is like a true wildling and screams like a stuck pig at the sight of the nail clippers.  Momma tames her with a few magic words.  I have never heard them, I am an Angel and she tells me so.  Manslave is always complaining about the length of them as we all like to shoulder surf and gouge great rifts out of his back and shoulders making him bleed.  So it's off with your claws with the lot of us! 

Time to take that one stuck pig, Pearl, and wash it's bum.  Holey moley, the noise and language from one so young!  The twisting and turning and the savage remarks, all before the cotton wool reaches the desired location.  It takes ManSlave to hold her and Momma to wash it!  Then she is let lose where upon you would think this savage, screaming beast would turn around and attack the culprits.  No, she rolls over onto her back and PURRRRRRS!  Not called Purrrrrly for nothing then, but why all the noise and bravado?  Red head.  Likes to have the last meowl. Her Mother, Flaire, sits apart from the clowder watching the antics and gives her a sharp clout when Pearl gets close enough. 

The Parentals can't squeeze Flaire too much during this washing process for fear of poppage, so gently does she slither away from ManSlave, leaving Momma holding her tail upright like the vets does, just to keep her from sitting down with a soapy arse.  Am I allowed to say arse? ::giggles::  I could say butt again? ::snigger:: How come it's called a butt?  Goats butt with their heads not heir rumps.  But rumps doesn't sound as funny as butt ::gafaw::  Anyway, I digress. Finally, Flaire is washed clean and waddles about thanking them with tail held high to dry off and she wiggles and tremors her tail from side to side and lets out a yell.  She always yells, no chirrupy sweet noises, she is Gracie's Daughter after all!

Faith likes to complain and hiss at anyone coming close during her mani-pedi and Lillibet is a superstar. Considering she is the unstable one, she quite likes a bit of pampering, especially when you get treats at the end! Oh and the treats are those really good ones. The freeze dried chicken bites with ducky strips and Lillibet not liking either of those gets a wormer!  Yes, a crunchy herbal treat to stave off worms, but she in non the wiser and no one else likes them!   I give you more tails of the unexpected next week. So until then, be naughty and fun for your hoomans.

With love to my loyal followers and snooty looks down my sniffer.

Love from Queen Vee =^..^=