There are copious amounts of packet food vanishing into the kitten room and you all thought it was a world shortage due to the Suez canal being closed and the influx of new critters needing more packets, but no, I can honestly tell you that it is Maystar HQ that is draining the resources for the rest of the world.  Robyn eats them with gay abandon each day and it is her that is running the universe low on those delicious shiny packets of delight.

I have a parchante for those slippery packs of goodness and at any point can be found thieving them from under Momma's nose.  Occasionally, Momma leaves one in the sink to be rinsed out and I steal it and chew holes enough to make a good sieve.  Then, if I am not lucky enough to get one of those, they are rinsed out and put into the peddle bin in the bathroom.  I have purrfected the art of trickery thievery and use sweet Svein to balance on the peddle of the bin whilst I scout about, head in, among the packs, trying to grab one like some sort of fairground game.  Once, Svein jumped off the peddle and the lid came down and hit me square between the ears.  I staggered about a bit holding aloft the well fought tuna packet that I was NOT going to let go of easily.  I reeled back and forth with dizzying staggers, swaying here and there and my prize was scooped up and a quick kiss on my head from Momma - like THAT'S going to make it all better...Herrumpf.. ::gives low growl and a hiss:: 

I can now go one step further and retrieve, not only empty washed packets, but full ones.  It takes a bit of ingenuity and skill and I am always up for a challenge if the reward is ample.  The packets are decanted into a plastic airtight box with clips and then placed in a draw, one of those easy break in one Ikea types for kids.  The items in question are locked away quite well so I do have to use the shingle in my head to work it out.  However, I am a smart arse and a few times watching closely and I can break in by pushing the draw above backwards to reveal the draw below and IF Momma has left the clip off to the container, I can flip open the lid, sneak in a paw and hook me out a fresh one.  Gosh I am just so devious and smart and decidedly clever.  What would I do if I had thumbs?

Not every reward is met with a happy ending.  There I am chewing the guts out of a full packet, spilling it's stomach contents onto the carpet and ripping open it's middle and devouring what I can before the hand of hell comes and takes it away, usually with a smart tap on the butt and a cry of "Oh Viktori, just why?" from Momma's lips.  I lick mine, over and over tasting the last of a hard won prize and grab out with my claws and teeth in a snapping motion to get back my packet.  I get leverage only to be shaken loose from my win and watch as the last of it's innards are poured into Robyn's dish, the door shut, never to be seen again.  The hardships I have to deal with are too much for my cat brain and I explode in a dance of semi silliness, which belies my true feelings of upset and despise and I dance and dance and thwak a kitten or two as I pass.  There, that feels better.  The world is balanced again. 

Today, I can not pull my mind from the Charolais beef that lays in the microwave, rising to room temperature.  I have pressed my sniffer to the door several times to make sure it does not suffocate in there. It's ok, I can hear mooing or it could be Lillibets gentle snore?  I do wonder if there will be a smidgen for me as all the thieving has created a rash on my skin and I am to have a bath later to sooth it.  What would sooth it better is slices of beef laid across my tummy whilst I wallow in a bath of packets complete with turkey escalopes over my eyes and tartare face pack.  Then, I believe, I would feel so healthy and in my element. 

Here is to pamper Sunday.  Huzzah!
Your delicious Queen Vee =^..^=

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I have to complain about the scribe in no uncertain terms.  She was PANTS 'Probably And Not Totally Sane' at time of 'saving' my hard won wording.  Pfft, two weeks running she fell asleep at the wheel and lost two blogs into the ether!  What has Momma got to sleep for anyway?  She has us to look after and we deserve better than a kippy Mother with only half of her brain on us whilst the other half sleeps and I don't mean ManSlave in that! 

Now, two weeks ago seems like a ridiculously long period of time and I can hardly remember what I had for brekki, let alone a full fourteen days ago?   I mean, I have slept since then and seemingly, so has Momma in fits and starts as there were some more Maystarlings born here at HQ, I remember that much as we were all neglected and I vaguely remember being starved and then I passed out....  Robyn, the watermelon, Rankin finally let go of her fascinatingly fantastical fruit and podded eight mighty babies ranging from a meer 40g to 88g.  Some were born here and some at the vets.  You wouldn't imagine the tremendous mess she made, fruit juice, pith and seeds just everywhere - they don't call them watermelons for nothing!  

The sounds coming from the kitten room were just terrible.  There was screaming from Robyn, soothing words from Momma, crying from ManSlave and none of it was joyful.  I wasn't sure who was soothing who as I pressed my face to the catflap window and saw watermelon juice coming from not only Robyn but ManSlave too?  It was a bit like a scene from Amityville Horror.  Robyn levitating, wait, that wasn't levitating, that was Robyn attached to ManSlave's hand at the sharp end whilst Momma had at the soggy end and a hold on Robyn like a bowling ball to dislodge a stuck kitten that was also levitating in unison.  I had to blink twice as all four did several passes around the kitten room in what can only be described as a tango in a blood bath whilst Robyn sang the final notes of 'Pussini's*' Madame Butterfly.  I rubbed my eyes and looked again as I couldn't see where ManSlave began and Momma ended with Robyn in between - visions of The Human / Cat/Human Centepede flashed through my mind and I just can not unsee it!

All of that 'mess' culminated in poor Robyn being whisked off to the vets after a few hours rest as there was still a quantity of my Great GrandKits in her tummy and no amount of help from the vets could get them out either so the dreaded C-section was done and Robyn came home sore, empty, milkless and very upset indeed.  Momma was unimpressed with having to hand feed one of the only litters born at Maystar HQ that actually didn't need hand feeding due to correct blood match!  Life sucks sometimes. Us kitchen cats also heard that not all those bambinos made it and Aunt Liza visited to help Momma dig a hole and bury the wee souls outside with TomFun, King Slinky and the rest of the baby Maystarlings. 

For me, I find it particularly sad as nasty things happened to me when I gave birth to Tyga and when Tyga gave birth to Robyn too.  It has been a long hard road for my unique line that will end with Robyn.  It is just not meant to be. I can hold my head up high, I have left a little of me out there in the big wide world to make lots of families super happy.  Although, I do make the best babies and have the best GrandKits and now Great GrandKits that are totally unique, funny and quirky like me! God Save the Queen!

Rather than mess this blog up, Momma has said she won't scribe much longer as her eyelids are heavy from looking after sweet Marley May and ManSlave.  ManSlave had a dodgy Covid jab reaction and Marlee May had an operation on her tummy where SaBreena was a little zealous with her first and second born girls and bit holes in them.  She got a bit carried away with placenta eating resulting in tubes of tummy popped out..  Oh my, only happen to us.  Marlee is 8 weeks old this week and managed really well and has been a little angel except her bouncy recovery where she damaged her newly made zipper.  Pfft.  Why do kits these days have a short attention spans?  In my day, Mother's could give us kids a sharp claw about the legs and we would sit still for hours not wanting another to match on the other leg.  It's all about ADHD, spectrums and stuff like that now.  In my day, you were just plain naughty and you were respectful to your Mother Queen, end of.  Anyhoo, Marlee has been dragged up 'proper' and one look from Aunt Robyn and she soon behaved herself and Robyn rewarded her with a kiss and wash.  Her Mother, SaBreena, was out tarting herself to Flaire in the lounge who was riding her up and down like a small jockey at Hicksetad.  Well, who doesn't like a bit of girl on girl action?  It's all the rage here!

When we are all not making bets on who will pass the winning post on the lounge carpet, we do have the Roast to concentrate on and today is a shoulder of my fave, little Larry the Lamb.  It is to be slow cooked in spice so Lillibet and I are headed down now to sit and wait for the dribs and drabs we might get as the fat is trimmed.  Waste not want not and let me tell you my waist wants!! Once we have what we desire, I may go and rest my head on ManSlave's chair and make him sit on the floor.  He is in my bad books for not fixing the oven light or finding out why it keeps blowing up?  So maybe if I sit in his warm leather seat, he may fix it and I can take up oven bathing again as his reward. 

Must dash.... I hear the fridge opening!

To infinity and beyond - Your Queen of the Blog  

*Puccini's it was a play on words before I get complaints!!