CATS AND HUMANS: WHO OWNS WHO?

There comes a time in every cat's life where he has to address the big issues. And I'm not talking about whether to have the afternoon nap on the comfy sofa or in that nice warm, sunny spot under the tree in the garden. I'm talking ownership.

Humans believe that us felines are domestic animals that, a few thousand years ago, you took under your wings because of our cute appearance and calming aura. I'd like to dispel that myth once and for all. The truth is that sometime around 8000BC, we got together and WE decided that life would be so much easier if we lived with you. Warmth, food, good places to sleep, fuss when we want it...you really do make life a pleasure. So the cat elders decided that if we caught a few rats and mice, you'd take us in. And you did...

Step forward 10,000 years and we have you totally under our paws without you even knowing it. It suits us entirely to let you think that you're the intelligent ones; that you're the boss. But nothing could be further from the truth, my friends. Our methods, however, remain a closely guarded secret among cat society, and it has come to my attention that a couple of idiotic felines have come very close to being caught on film giving everything away. I don't know quite how, but THIS PIECE OF VIDEO has been translated very accurately, even down to the fake and uninterested meow by one of the protaganists.


Still, I have no doubt that you'll put this down to being a cute spoof concocted by a human, and it's this arrogance and general disbelief of feline intelligence that means we'll be the true 'owners' for thousands of years to come...

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HAVE MY 'OWNERS' GONE CRAZY?

There have been strange goings on in my house over the last few days, and I'm really not sure what to make of them. My mum and dad seem to have lost all sense of reality.

It all started on Saturday morning. I got up around 11am after my mid-morning nap to find mum and dad carring big sheets, large metal tins and brushes into the house. Very odd, but I had my breakfast and then went out for some serious garden time. When I came back a few hours later, the kitchen had changed colour and mum and dad were stood around taking it in and looking very smug with themselves.

On further investigation, I found out that the tins they'd brought in were full of this gloopy liquid which was the same colour as the new kitchen - 'paint', I think they called it. Turns out that they'd spent most of their day putting this 'paint' onto the walls to change their colour, and that they would then spend the rest of Saturday and all day Sunday doing the same thing again to other bits of the house. They referred to it as 'decorating'.

Can somecat please explain to me what's going on? Why on earth would they spend their time changing the colour of the house when they could be napping or chasing birds? What difference does it make what colour the walls are? I don't get humans, sometimes, I really don't...

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THE OLDEST LIVING CAT?

This is a friend of mine, Kitty Cat. On 9th May this year she had her 21st birthday, and in proper feline years (rather than stupid human ones) she is now about 102 years old!

Kitty was originally my mum's cat, and was brought home to the family in 1987 to keep mum quiet about wanting a puppy! Ironically, 20 years later dad bought her Josie for exactly the same reason! Anyway, ever since mum left the family home to go to University in the USA, Kitty has lived with mum's parents as that's her home and mum didn't think it was fair to uproot her when she returned to the UK.

But now, more than 100 years into her life, Kitty's still going strong. She's pretty fiesty when she wants to be and I wouldn't mess with her. Respect for the elderly, that's what that is. Mum says her coat's a bit straggly now, that she's a bit slower on her feet than she used to be and that she's content to spend lots of time asleep, but hey, she can move lightning fast when there are treats around. But can't we all? Kitty likes Nature's Menu and Applaws the best, but she doesn't get them very often as they're a bit rich for her now. Although they're not too rich for me, so why don't I get them more?

I'd love to know if Kitty is among the oldest cats still alive in the UK, or even the world! Does anyone know of a cat older than her and, if so, where they live? Let's see if we can find the world's oldest living cat...

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THE MOST WITLESS CAT?

I was sat laughing at some of the idiotic pictures of my fellow felines over at The Little Cat Diaries' Most Witless Looking Cat competition this morning, and it reminded me of my rather clueless sister.

Earlier this week, Lilly went out hunting. Now we all like the thrill of the chase, the challenge of stalking our prey, and the final pounce to catch it in our claws. It's normal feline behaviour and, though I know my mum and dad don't really appreciate me returning home with my catches, it's instinctive - something inherent within me that they can't change.

It would be fair to say that Lilly's not the most feline of cats - her wrestling is poor and Josie's all but given up trying to teach her to hunt. But to her credit she went out into the wilds of the garden anyway. I was impressed...until she returned. Josie brings down pigeons almost as big as her. I'm not so experienced yet, but even I can catch a mouse. Lilly came home looking very pleased with herself...with a moth...

A moth?! Is that the best she can do? I nearly wet myself! And to make matters worse, even though I told her not to she insisted on eating it. And she was then ill for two days! If that doesn't qualify her for a witless cat award, I don't know what does. I only wish I had a picture to send to The Little Cat Diaries.

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MY TOP FIVE TIPS FOR WAKING PEOPLE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

As a cat who is normally locked inside the house during the night, I'd like to address an issue that's been puzzling me for a while. Why do humans insist on sleeping for eight hours in one go instead of taking regular naps?

You see, I don't understand why people don't take a leaf from the feline book of life, and have several one hour sleeps during the day so they don't have to close down totally for such a long period. If cats can do it, why can't humans? And it'd be much better for cat 'owners' as well, as we wouldn't have to get you up during the night. I know I hate it when I get woken up from my 3pm nap, so it must be equally as frustrating for you.

But there are multiple reasons why we need to get you up. Like this morning, for example. It might have been 4.15am, but it was really urgent that I looked out of the window specifically over mum and dad's bed. Fortunately there was nothing going on outside and I didn't miss anything (phew!), but you just never know do you?

Anyhow, given that you insist on this ridiculously rigid day plan, we have no choice but to wake you. So Josie, Lilly and I have come up with our five most tried and tested methods of waking up our 'owners'...

1. The loud meow: it's a bit amateurish, but a good starting point for the inexperienced cat. Simply sit down right next to their heads and meow loudly (demonstrated right). The downside is that it can provoke a flailing arm. It's not very classy.

2. Patting exposed flesh: this is my favourite and seems to work every time. If an arm is out of the duvet and hanging over the side of bed, all you do is pat it repeatedly until they move. If there's no response, get your claws out a bit - that rouses them!

3. Stand on chest and meow gently and repeatedly: Josie swears by this one, although she does say that sometimes she can see they're awake but that they're pretending they're not as if they think she'll go away. Do they think she's stupid?

4. Play fight in the bedroom...loudly: Lilly and I have this one down to a tee. Wrestling at the foot of the bed and/or jumping onto the bed and chasing each other up and down mum's body is a great way of getting her up. Although they do normally kick us out of the bedroom after that...

5. Climb underneath the duvet and scratch or bite their toes: this one is the most advanced move. A variation on number 2, it is more for the experienced cat, as the risk of getting kicked in the head means there's an element of danger involved. But it always provokes a response...

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LET SLEEPING LIONS LIE, part 1

Us cats don't get much private time, but some things are supposed to be sacred. Going to toilet for example: I don't like anyone watching me when I pee in the litter tray. (Maybe that's just a male thing.) But Dad has started to invade my privacy by taking pictures of me when I'm asleep and posting them on the internet. Like the one below.

I was simply stretched out in the sun, that's all. Can't a cat have a quiet power nap without someone shoving a camera in his face? It's downright rude if you ask me - how would Dad like it if I took a picture of him dribbling and snoring when he's asleep? You should hear him at 3am - it's like a herd of elephants running through the bedroom.

So anyway, to add insult to injury, he's now started a Facebook group called Cat Naps devoted to what he calls "the weird and wonderful sleeping positions" of me and cats like me, and is posting pictures of me asleep for all to see. Despite my new found notoriety in feline circles, I can't help but think this is taking liberties...

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A CAT BY ANY OTHER NAME IS STILL A CAT

I heard a song on the radio the other day by a band called The Ting Tings. It goes something like: "they call me hell/they call me Stacey/they call me her/they call me Jane/that's not my name/that's not my name/that's not my name/that's not my name". After I managed to pull myself together from the deep and heart-wrenching lyrics, it got me thinking.

My 'owners' call me all sorts of things. Mum calls me Jakey Cakey, The Cake, Mr Cake, My Boy, Little Man and The Jakemeister. Dad tends to call me The Boy or Mr Jake. At least Mr Jake shows a little much-deserved respect. But whether it's Jakey Cakey or The Boy, like the bird from The Ting Tings says, that's not my name. My name's Jake. It's simple. One syllable. Not very difficult to remember or to pronounce, is it?

I've noticed it with my sister too. They call Lilly, 'Lilly Loo-Loo' most of the time. And also Miss Loo, and Lilly Loo-La. I mean, what's that all about? Why do they insist on calling us so many nicknames? Is it just us or do other cats have to put up with this sort of thing?

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