As some of you may remember, it wasn't long ago I visited Otta, 21 days ago to be exact and in between that point and this I have called again.  This time with ferocious intent.  However, instead of trundling off to Otta again, I have been kept at home to have a full call with my Sister Flaire.  The noise we create between us is furrnominal so we have been sent out to the House of Fun over night to howl and yawp and yell all night long.  It is quite well insulated so we sound like wild foxes in the wilderness next door and the neighbours haven't said a word! However, in the house I sound like a Peacock and Flaire a strangles Goose. 

During the day we have the run of the house with everyone else and recently, because of Pearl immanent in popping, we have been allowed access to the lounge.  She feels safe here during the day away from Faith & Lillibet who won't touch her once she is up high on the cat post.  So access all areas it is.  Now, again, from recent blogs, you all know that I have taken to piddling all over the house. Well, Momma has caught me a couple of times now and we have come to an agreement that I am to only piddle in the bath on a blue cloth.  I like blue cloths and that way anyone seeing a blue cloth knows to be aware I may have scent marked it.  However, we haven't told ManSlave that the blue cloths we are using are the very ones he washes his car with.  ::Chortle:: 

So because of the yelling and the piddling Flaire and I are outside over night.  This does two things.  Gives the Hoomans time to get some sleep and it helps Lillibet out too as we stalk her all night long, chirruping and rolling about for her. We both love her SO much when we are calling and she is beginning to pluck her fur out with the stress of it all.  But hey, we honestly don't mind at all and race across the sky bridge in huge excitement, bodies quivering with anticipation of all the fun things Momma lays on for us out there.  We get fresh blankies (because I piddle on some) and lots of new toys each night and cat nip or valarian or lavender sprinkled about. We get a fresh rug on the floor to roll about on and express our inner lion on.  We play fight on the rug too.  Don't forget, we also have the CATS CLAWS WHEEL that we run and run and run and run on.  It is incredible to keep up our fitness and stave off midnight boredom.  We try and run together on it too, but Flaire is a bit dopey and runs behind me, slowing me down.  I am scrambling up hill and she trots down hill.  Sigh.  If only she would come beside me, we could trot together and make lighter work of it.   

We hear from Jaz and Jamie that they like their new wheel too.  It is proving a bit of a hit and at first Jamie didn't really like it very much, so their Hoomans made an external cage door to fit over the wheel and Jamie plods along for a few minutes each day.  He now goes on it on his own and Jaz runs super fast on it all the time.  Jamie swears this is why he doesn't go on it as much because his sister hogs it 90% of the time.  Jamie is on a diet, the same as Lillibet and Faith, he can't have a fancy machine SUREFLAP MICROCHIP FEEDER  like we have because he breaks into them.  So Jaz has to be fed way up high on the top of a huge cupboard he can't jump on.  They call it  'Jaz In Handbags' because that's where their Mum keeps all her precious designer handbags.  Lucky stylish Jaz. Eat all she wishes whilst poor starving Jamie has to work for his supper on the wheel!  Once he gets a little more stream line, he says he is going to 'Handbags' to get him some noms!  Nothing like a bit of incentive!  Where will Jasmine eat then?

At night, we are bribed with not only toys but a nice packet of JWB Turkey noms.  Flaire only really likes it when she is pregnant, so I get the majority of it of course.  Momma also leaves the packet top for me to play with.  That is hours of fun and in the morning, I trot over the Sky Bridge with the packet top held proudly between my teeth and present it to ManSlave in bed.  He then has to throw it for me until he gets up and goes for a shower.  I then wait patiently outside the shower cubicle with the strip at my paws and longingly look at him between the drips in the hope he can throw it again for me.  He does throw it the second he gets out and then I sit on the toilet and watch him shave.  This is normally Lillibets job, but recently she is stalking Pearl so I took her place.  He then dries off and goes to the cupboard for a shirt.  I can not wait for this bit, I wriggle and jump about from tall boy to side table, bed to tall boy and then the second his arm is in the shirt I make a bound for his shoulder.  It just seems a ritual now and I get carried aloft to the cupboard where he keeps the snacks and he presents me with mine first.  I take it gently and jump to the bed to munch it down like a starving beast and beg for more.  We only get two each and the rest of the pride are there on the bed waiting.  We all have to sit on command and some give a paw or beg and I am learning to 'high 5'  It is a good way to start the day and it makes ManSlave worth keeping.  He is very well trained now.

Right, Sunday is Roast day and today we have a nice small piece of local Sirloin, a Simmental steer from Kenilworth by all accounts.  I am going to make sure I get a few nibbly bits from the end to tidy it up a bit.  Then a short flash in the oven whilst we wait all together for the start of the Grand Prix.  We love GP day, the heating goes on and big thick ruggies come out and the Flying Frenzie gets a new feather end and we can play and jump about and enjoy our day off.

So, my adoring public, it is time to poke the beef and help with the veggies and try not to put a paw in the gravy mix or run off with with a Yorkshire pud.  Enjoy your day of peace and warmth too.  Love from your Queen Vee =^..^= 

Oi now, just wait a gawd darn minute here.  What on earth is this?  Suckling on the nips of your Daughter... now that is never right?  What a sneaky little pest my Sister is.  She sidled up to her Daughter Pearl and tried to pinch the milky bar.  There is no wonder Pearl has been screaming blue murder at her. Then when the hoomans come back into the room there is Flaire, sweetfaced, washing her daughter as though nothing is wrong and she DOES know it wrong!

Flaire had a funny upbringing, even though born here at Maystar, like me, our Mother Gracie was a tad crazy.  Both Flaire and I hanker after other comforts and Flaire's is nipple sucky.  She never quite got over the fact that our Mother beat us up after the age of a month and gave up all milky bar in an instant. For this reason, Flaire seems to give her kittens milky right to the very end and lets them have as much milky as they want.  I might be the same btw.  It is an over reaction from not having enough from the kitty cat Mum.  

Pearl is getting rather rotund now and we can count on a paw and a half as to how many she might have.  I purrsonally think she is stuffed full of 12 kittens but Momma said I was being over excited.  12 would be crazy and even the predicted 5 will be a pawful as Momma has to hand feed for 24hrs because of blood incompatibility. Momma managed 3 ok last time so 5 might be a challenge. I am looking forward to having babies around, they are fun and I get to teach them lots of naughty things.  Not quite sure how Pearl will take it all though?  SHe is a tad 'redheadded' if you get my drift!

You wouldn't believe the things that happen around here sometimes.  It shows just what separate little characters we all are.  Some are bolder than others of course and some are just plain, well, brattish!

Take those MiniCats that just left home, what calm little critters they were when stuck in a pickle.  Most of us may have panicked and done a runner but on this particular day, Elly stayed still and called for Momma's help.  They were all playing merrily with the Cat Frenzy toy, sharing the feathery end and playing with the string.  Lionel decided to pinch the feathers, backing up growling just like I taught him. Only, the string was caught up around Elly's back paw above the hock and wrapped once around her neck.  Momma had seen this happening and from past experience, didn't move quickly so as not to give her a fright.  Lionel pulled one side and Elly felt the tension which lifted her hind leg closer to her face.  She was in a noose and the usual response for any of us is now is to pull back or run as fast as you can whilst trussed up like a chicken to remove the items and fleeing from the enemy.  Sprinting over a few hundred meters usually looses your assailant.  In this case, she pulled backwards, nearly pulling Lionel's milk teeth out and then stopped.  This was good news as Momma was about to rugby tackle her and save her from injuring and scaring herself.  But no, Elly waited and then let out this almighty screech just like her Mother Flaire did as a young kitten.  That mad Momma giggle and Elly's eyes rounded and filled with tears, her feelings obviously hurt.  Oh no, wait, it was the string around her neck, making her eyes water!  Well, she was freed easily and she took it out on that feather end and her Brother and Tilly took an ear bashing.  She was looking the other way and didn't hear her Sister stalking her.  A fight breaks out - much squealing and shouting and all is well with the World. 

On a similar subject but not as dramatic.  When Flaire was a wee MiniCat, she was quite poorly with milk poisoning.  Even special kitten milky makes her tummy sore and very sick.  It all started when they were a few months old and Momma had made them milky meat for their breakfast.  Unbeknownst to Momma that Flaire was about to have a reaction.  It went on for some time and her little body was so sore.  The kindly vet had given her some special tummy stuff and flavoured electrolytes, which we now know contained types of milk products and all the time it made her worse.  Once Momma clued into what was making her poorly, she stopped everything and put her on raw food.  Everything stopped and she got better in days.  The only thing was, it left her very needy and she made this noise one day that the hoomas will never forget.  A wailing, semi screeching sound like a dying animal.  They both rushed up the stairs and there was Flaire, sat, perched up on the high cat post stuck with no way down for such a small kitten.  It was then that she learned to wail and screech at everything she wanted especially attention and this is when she became ManSlave's kitteh.  He pandered to her every whim.  As she grew and her demands were met swiftly, the noise was never heard again...UNTIL.....

Last week, it snowed.  We had all nipped across the sky bridge to watch Horrible Horrace munch on the peanuts from the warmth of the House of Fun.  At dinner time we all trotted back except for Flaire.  This is nothing new and sometimes if we don't want to come in we don't have to unless it gets past 9pm and then we do.  The snow was thin on the ground and the temperature had dropped making the sky bridge slippery.  Momma called Flaire in.  "Girlfriend, Poppet, Blue-eyes, Flaireeee. Come on love."  This usually brings her running and the neighbours must think we have a hundred cats with all the names we have each!  There was nothing, she sat in the window peering in at the kitchen, warm on her cozy bed, her tummy not rumbling too much and anyway, it was bitter out there, why should she run across that SkyBridge and make her paws cold?   An hour later, in the darkness as the outside bulb had blown, Momma called Flaire again "Poppet, come ON!" It was then that Momma heard it.  A scream that lasted for ever, a wail and a yelling of a cat that has slipped on the SkyBridge and broken it's leg.  With heart thumping she shouts for ManSlave to help.  ManSlave races outside, shoeless in the snow to rescue the screaming Flaire.  His heart in his mouth at what he was going to find. She was still wailing as he picked up her writhing little body from the floor of the cat pod.  But to his surprise, she began to purr and kiss his face.  Looking back on it, she was rolling in the light dusting of snow on the ground and yelling for ManSlave to rescue her as the SkyBridge was just cold and slippery and nothing had happened to her at all.  He smacked her butt, she wriggled and purred some more and together they came in.  The look she flashed Momma on the way past riding aloft ManSlaves shoulders was full of laughter.  Momma was so relieved and checked her whole body, bone by bone to make sure nothing was damaged and she rolled about purring and holding onto Momma's hand, pushing her head into it for more fuss, then trotted off,  feet warm as toast to raid her food machine for some well earned sustenance! 

​With love from your leg pulling felines and your Queen  Viktori =^..^=
​

I am not a religious sort, I only follow the Pied Piper and Bastet, the goddess of protection and cats.  She was the daughter of Ra, the sun god.  What is not to worship there? We all, of course, worship the sun or rather THE ORB and have done for centuries.  Finding pools of orbshine to lay in and semi cook our bodies.  Oh yes - these things are for worshiping.  So too is the moon, we worship that too.  It's beautiful roundness every month dictates our moods and prepares us for the month ahead.  I can feel it's pull. lOnce I thought Momma said there were moaning monkeys with candles on the moon, but she soon explained when we were all young, that they were no grumpy candle holding gibbons on the moon only waxing and waning gibbous moons.  Well, when you are just a kitten it's all confusing, right?

So, with all this worship has arrived the oldest eating festival.  Ok, I know, It isn't really about eating, but that is all hoomans do these days without knowing it's origins or why the date changes every year.  There is a spring equinox and the first Sunday after the first full moon is when Easter Sunday is.  It's quite easy really if you follow the moon.  There is an added excitement this year because it is also April the first and that means pinching and punching everyone AND it's April fools day.  So many exciting tricks to be played out at Maystar.     

Pearl and Momma got ManSlave a cracker this morning.  Pearl trotted into the bedroom from the kitten room, Momma lifted her up and said "Feel those Pearlings growing in her tummy." Pearl sat square on ManSlaves chest and Momma pinched and punched him whilst he was occupied with belly rubbing.  He is the raining champion with 14 consecutive months, so the prank was worth it and Pearl fell about laughing at the rouse. 

We have already had a game of egg hunt. Of course, we can't eat chocolate.  It is highly poisonous to us felines.  So instead, every time we found an eggy, we were rewarded with a chicken snax.  We found so many that the chicken bits ran out and there was just dust left in the tin.  Faith poked her head in there to lick the dust and found herself stuck in the tin.  When she was extracted, her face was covered in chicken powder. It was hillarious. Not to be outdone, Flaire did the exact same thing, only this time she proceeded to wander around the bed bumping into the pillows.  We all had a giggle.  "April fool." We all shouted.  She didn't find it funny at all and when her head popped out, she growled and thwakked everyone for laughing at her.  Lillibet sat and washed her Mother's face and no one offered to wash Flaire's.  She ran to ManSlave telling him how mean we had all been to her.  He kissed and loved her, then said "Pthhh, what is all this dust on you... it tastes like....ewww, chicken!" That set us off for a second time and Flaire went off in a huff to watch Horrible Horrace in the garden.

Last week was Meowdy Thursday.  We all had our paws washed by Momma to show how she serves us as our pretend master and ruler.  Since Medieval times our rulers have given money to the paw.  This is still the same in our home today.  We give all our pocket money to a good cause.  This year, Kevin's (MAYSTAREX KING EDWARD-V)  Mum Mrs. H, is running in the London Marathon for Cancer.  We thought it a worthy cause. 

Did you know that eggs are associated with Easter as they are a symbol of new life.  It helps folks remember the resurrection of the Lord.  They represent spring and rejuvenation after the harsh winter.  There is obviously much much more to this Easter thing than I have explained, but I am a cat and if that King Slinky is ever resurrected, I will be in deep trouble taking over his slot on his blog.  We always think of KS at Eater time as this is when the lamb leg goes into the oven.  He would watch with deep fascination as it cooked and crisped up.  Then to the part where he got the bone to push about the kitchen. He, out of anyone understood patience and virtue.  Ok, maybe not virtue.  I currently hold that title, still being the only one not to have kittens yet!  I blame that Otta.  Young buck trying it on and not hitting the spot.  Sigh.  I shall have my virtue forever if he doesn't buck up!

Well, although the hoomans normally have a lamby for today, Momma said NO WAY!  We are having a break with tradition because there was a beefy forerib at the butchers with ManSlaves name on it and why not have something different?  I am quickly typing the ending so I can nip down and take my place of worship by the oven.  It is both warm and comforting place to lay. and with a lazy eye I can hold KS's tradition of roast watching and get all the good bits when it's time to come out.  We all wish you from all religions a very peaceful and loving long weekend.

​Your time honoured, virtuous Queen Vee =^..^=