Furball Frankie

The hooman and I often has similar tastes. We often does similar things. Although he doesn't poo in a box. We has found harmony in one spot in our latest house. We both like to relax and 'werk' (well, I stretch lots) on the one bench. Hooman will sit on the flat bit, then he'll put cushions out - I'll relax on them. It helps him for me to oversee his 'werk'. It helps me to receive head pat and ear scritches. It's our little seat together.

Hooman was getting ready before. Ready to go out. I know this because he put something extra warm on his top half, jangled his keys, but also got his feets covers ready. This means he is going to be a little while. I meowed my protests - I wanted more head scritches. But he started putting his feets covers on. I wound between his legs and meowed some more. I dropped my keys and said 'Stop it, Frankie, I'll be back soon'. I gave him head scritches, said 'I love you, I'll be back soon, be a good boy' Then he was gone. I licked my front paws, then vowed to do a stinky poo so he had something to do when he got back.

There is something I loves to do...especially when I has a happy. I like to go find my hooman, and sit next to him. Then I get my front feets and pushes up and down on a soft service (a bed, cushions, whatever is there). I push them down one after the other, combined with a happy purr. My human often says 'Frankie! You making biscuits?' No, idiot - I is making a happy. Sometimes I like to be petted on the head while doing my dance. Sometimes I like to be left alone. Dances can last 30 seconds or they can last 5 minutes. Depends how happy I am. It also depends if my hooman disturbs me too much during that time. Happy catty dances are fun. They don't happen all the time, but when they do, be assured that I'm a happy kitty.

Everything in my house is too senstive for my little catty nose today. My hooman's shoes are too stinky. The litter tray needs changing. The bathroom smelt of a strange gel or cream hooman had used. The milk in his cereal didn't quite smell right. Even my fur had an odd smell. I found a non-stinky part of the bed to lie down on. I has raised my concerns with the authorities - let's see what will be done. At the very least, those shoes need to go.

My hooman came home with a big plastic bag and said 'Look, Frankie - fresh sheets!' I wasn't sure what this was but it wasn't ham, as I sniffed it. He took it up to our napping quarters. I stuck my head in the bag and hooman said 'Not yet, Frankie'. He pulled out some rectangular sheets and stuffed things into them. I carried on sniffing inside the bag. There was a bigger sheet, so I pawed at it. 'Yes, that's next', said hooman. He flapped this sheet a lot and made huffing and puffing sounds. Then he got a bigger, heavier sheet and stuck in on the floor. I sat on it. 'That's not helpful', said hooman. He lifted me off and I yowled in protest. He then started stuffing a giant puffy thing into this heavier sheet, then shaking it out. Then he lay it down on the bed, said 'done', and lay on top of it. I joined him, for ear scritches.

Hooman has really lost the plot this time. I've no idea what he's doing. He keeps throwing these weird, coloured springy things in front of me, then saying 'go on, Frankie!' I assume I'm supposed to do something with them. But what? The thing seems devoid of life. It doesn't move on its own. It doesn't fly or run. It just sits there. If it moved like the red dot does then maybe I'd be interested, but 'Nah, not for me'.    

Hooman didn't make anything in the food room tonight. Hooman ordered something on the compooter. Food came. I circled hooman's feet. He opened the box. I jumped up onto the table. I had sniffs. Eugh! It smelt cheesy. No chicken. No prawns. Rubbish. I walked away. Why does he get this stuff? He's a noisy eater too.    

It has been a day of flomps. Remarkable flomps. I has flomped in the kitchen, but the wooden bench is a bit hard. I has flomped on the armchair, but it's a bit too squishy. I has flomped on my hooman's bed - I have to admit, that's quite comfy. I flomped on one of the stairs, but it's not really big enough for my fluffiness. So, I has found a new favourite flomping spot for today - the squishy (but less squishy than the armchair) red chair. I shall flomp here for a while. Then I have other important cat business to attend to.

Hmmm...things are getting stranger and stranger about my new place. It doesn't have the floor of the last place. It's hard. I can't flomp onto it. I tried sitting on it, but I got a cold bum. I tried resting on it, but it's a bit hard. It's quite good for plodding on, but it's not quite up to my standard. I hope the floor strandrard improves. It certianly needs some rugs.

There has been many new and exciting things about exploring my new home. The carpet is very scratchable...and it feels so good to roll around on. I have 4 beds to choose from, for maximum flomps. But I has discovered new skills. I has discovered catrobatics. I is a master of balance. I can walk back and forth on this wooden beam, meowing to my hooman if I get stuck. Then I can sit on the plinth at the end, like a giant lion. I wonder what's next for me? A medal? A statue? An honorary degree? I'm such a talented cat.

I is not a silly kitty. I is a very clever kitty. I knows how to make the most of situations. In this new house in particular I know how to do this. The floor is nice and soft, which means maximum flomps for me. I can flomp from pretty much any standing position, then appreciate the softness. But it also has other advantages. My hooman cannot resist giving me belly rubs when I've flomped and my belly is all exposed. This is perfect on the nice soft floor, because I can just roll back and forth and still be comfy. So I shows one bit of my belly, then, when I've had enough rubs on that bit, I roll over, with a 'mrrrrp', and show the other half of my belly. I get all the rubs on that bit...then I rolls back. It's great. I get absolutely maximum belly rubs. Happy.

I don't think I has posted on here in a while. I's been too busy exploring. Something strange happened. My hooman took us from our usual home, took me in the vroom vroom...and suddenly let me out into a room in a strange house. I had a confused...and lots of sniffs. He kept me in this room, with my poo and wee tray, my food and water, some toys, and a comfy towel. It had a huge bed in it - perfect for spread-out naps. But I got bored quickly. I knew the house was much bigger than our usual place. I wanted to see it. When my hooman next came to the door, I ran out; freeeeeeedom! There was so much to see and sniff. There were stairs to run up and down - extra space for zoomies. And the floor was soft, unlike our usual home. Perfect for lying down and rolling around on. But the best thing? There are multiple places for flomps. There are three floors. One floor has two beds for flomps. Another floor has two smaller beds for flomps. The lounge has three soft long chairs for flomps. ...

I watch my hooman do so many things that don't make sense. Take his 'cloves', for example - that he wears over his skin. So much effort. He takes them off. He puts them on. He puts them in a basket. He takes them out of a basket. He puts them in a spinning, whooshy thing. He takes them out of a spinny, whooshy thing. He hangs them all out for ages. He brings them back inside. He puts them away again. He puts them on. It goes on and on and on. Why not just grow fur? Surely it's easier and more convenient. He can grow it on his head and face, so why not the rest of him? I think he's just not putting enough effort in.

It happens a lot - I'm peacefully napping and then I hear my hooman's heavy footsteps. I know he's coming to annoy me. He can't help it. What's he going to do though? Will he shout 'Frankiiiiiiiiiiie' and bury his face in my belly fur? Will he say 'ooojshi booojshi' and kiss me on the head? Will he boop my nose? Will he ruffle my belly fur with his hands? Will he annoyingly touch my back feets? Will he smoosh my face? I decided he was going to boop my nose, so looked to protect it. Mad hooman.  

I has been very busy. I has had a good wash. I washed my front feets. I washed my chest. I lay on the floor and washed my belly. I turned my head to the side and washed my back. I did my back feets twice, for good measure. I was all done. I was really pleased with my work. My fur was all shiny. Then my hooman ran into the room, said 'Frankiiiiiiiiiie!' in a silly, high-pitched voice, and rubbed my belly and back fur. Now I have to start all over again. Idiot.

Being a kitty is often about strategy. We has to know when to meow, when to purr, where to sit. I has found a good position today. It's hot, so I needs to cool down. But I also wants fuss. What to do? Perfect solution... Flomp down onto the cooling floor, and... Roll over to expose my belly. A little, squeaky meow, then maximum belly rubs from my hooman. The ideal spot.  

Some days are tough. Some days you just want to block out the world. Some days are for back-to-back naps. Some days all the belly rubs in the world won't do. Some days all the snacks available won't be enough. Some days your fur won't be clean no matter how many licks you give it. Some days you have to give in. Some days you have to say; 'No fanks - not today'. Today is one of those days.

There is many important parts to a cat. My eyes, triangle ears, feets, belly, and tail is all important. But possibly my most importantest part is my sensitive little catty nose. It tells me whether things are good or not - whether there's danger or foods. This is why everything that comes into my home must pass the sniff test. If it's bags, they'll get sniffed. If it's a box, it'll get sniffed. If it's foods, it'll definitely get sniffed. If it's clothes, it'll get sniffed. I has to be sure that it's safe or good before it's allowed in my home. Even my hooman gets sniffed. If he's been around other cats I walk away and show him my bum. Sniffing is an essential part of life for all kitties.

Kitties - let's admit it; it's hard to train our hoomans. Very often they don't understand the most basic of commands. How hard is it to recognise 'I has a hungry' or 'These sheets don't smell right'? But with patience, it is possible to get results. He's not quite fully there, but I'm getting my hooman to speak 'Meow'. He now understands the following: - 'More belly rubs, please - keep going' - 'I need snacks...now!' - 'My wee tray is in an unacceptable state' - 'Quick, follow me' - 'I'm napping - go away' Actually, he doesn't fully understand that last one; sometimes he still annoys me while I'm napping. It's been hard work though. I hope he continues to learn; it can only be good for both of us.

Hoomans are so weird. Well, mine is. He likes to stroke my head - I get that. He likes to give ear scritches - I get that. But he has one particular obsession. He likes to touch my nose. Why? He gives it gentle rubs, and that's okay. But he often likes to just touch it and say 'boop'. What is boop? Why does he make this sound? Why does he combine it with touching my nose? What does he mean when he says my nose is very boopable? I can't work him out sometimes.