Thursday 29 April 2010

Cross Words...

Gads, I feel like a right ponce having to pose in front of these daffs in Muttie's back garden...


And for other reasons...I can't relax.

Muttie keeps peering at me with an expectant expression on her auld pus (Scottish for 'old face').

What? I shriek in cat angst.

"Do something interesting!" she demands. "I have a column to write and I need stuff to blether on about. I haven't been out the house for two days now 'cos I'm stuck with all this freelance stuff so unfortunately for us both, you're my singular muse."

Did I sign up to this when I agreed to let her adopt me? I don't think so. I believe free Dreamies, a nice, fluffy, woolly blanket together with the bathroom window laid open whenever I needed away from her (regularly) were the main bargaining points.

I mean, I give her purrs, head butts, I sleep on the end of the bed with her every night and only the other day there I delivered half a sparrow for her lunch.What else must a cute kittie such as moi give out?

She looks towards poor old Paw for material too. She's considered writing about his obsession with the Observer Crossword ie they can't go out the house on Sunday morning until he's completed it.

Well, they tried it once, went to this really beautiful olde-worlde academic town of St Andrews, wandered around the university cloisters, viewed the ancient ruined Abbey, then popped to the upmarket student cafe for lunch. Muttie was bowled over by the atmosphere of the place. And what does Paw do? He whips out his newspaper, even before the waitress has appeared, and demands:

"What do you reckon 3 Across is?"

Let's just say Muttie's reply didn't quite fit in the required blanks....

Milt xx

Sunday 25 April 2010

Tapping into Tapas

 

Forget water bowls, the best kinda H2O is the stuff that comes straight from the tap. And often I get away with it...

However, I had to do a bit of hiding under Paw's car yesterday after bringing home a decapitated pigeon.



Muttie thought she was in some kinda horror film as I gaily pounced up onto the kitchen window sill with it. Actually bringing it home caused me considerable difficulty seeing as it was twice the size of my head and I could barely see where I was going.  

Meanwhile, me and the Muttie woman went head-to-head last night when she opened a tin of sweet corn. It ended in a rather ugly scene. No, she didn't glimpse her reflection in a mirror. What she did do though was submerge one's paws in one's water bowl while she dug in tin-wards with her oh-so-sharp fork.

Paw's been a bit more gracious about my 'mouse drop' after googling 'why cats kill mice' earlier tonight. In fact there was quite an emotional ear-scratching moment between us at one point. (Pssst, a wee aside here - Paw has a contraption that he sticks in his ears every now and again. It makes a buzzing noise and I wasn't sure of it's purpose until he insisted earlier tonight: 'When I do this Milt Boy, it makes me look YEARS younger.' Er, yeah Paw, whatever you say...).

Anyways, we mustn't slag off Paw 'cos he occasionally reads this blog too. In fact we'll praise him. Yeah, he'd like that. Ok, he's....good at bringing Muttie bacon/fried egg rolls in bed at the weekends, he always fetches the Guardian for her on Saturday mornings and, occasionally, he indulges her in a Spanish Evening where he cooks her really yummy tapas, opens a bottle of Rioja and shoves a Spanish film in the DVD recorder.

He's going through an 'I love all things Spanish phase.' Actually he's been indulging it for the last four years now. Muttie's impressed with his knowledge of this sexy Latin language - but she really doesn't need to hear it all the time. Still, he always gets top marks for his Spanish essays (but then he IS an English teacher so there's a pride thing going on there).

He's also really encouraging of Muttie's writing 'cept he always picks up on the mis-spellings and poor grammar. "But look at the creativity and imagination," Muttie implores.

"I'm trying to but I can't get past that use of 'less' instead of 'fewer' he insists. "And incidentally, your use of apostrophies is abysmal!"

You know how you had that day-dream at school about marrying your English teacher? Well, in a way, Muttie's done it and occasionally there's times where she can't help thinking maybe it would have been better to focus on the flirty volley ball coach instead...

Milt xx

Wednesday 21 April 2010

Miracle Cats and Me



This is my profile shot. Like it? Very 'smouldering' James Dean, I thought.

Other matters - Paw isn't very happy with me right now. He says I'm in disgrace (yeah, yeah). It's because I brought a mouse home last night. I had such fun chasing it about the livingroom. Muttie was giggling away watching me and Paw both dive for it at the same time. Him to free it and me to well...have fun and practice my not-inconsiderable hunting skills.

It's been a good week actually. I finally managed to corner Fatboy and give him a real bashing for eating my grub:



Meanwhile, Muttie keeps going on about this miracle kitty in our home town who fell 120ft and, amazingly, survived - thanks to the free veterinary skills of those marvels at the Glasgow PDSA clinic (Garfield's treatment would have cost owner Andrea $900 otherwise)!




http://www.eveningtimes.co.uk/news/editor-s-picks-ignore/120ft-high-rise-plunge-cat-cheats-death-by-a-whisker-1.1020363

Well, I've survived 11 months living with she-who-doesn't-have-time-to-do-any-housework. Don't I merit some kinda mention from Her Majesty's Press Corp?

Other news, Muttie's been commissioned to write a fortnightly humour column for an on-line magazine. More in later posts. The site is for 'go-ahead, intelligent women'. I'm a bit concerned about their recruitment process...Stilll, I'm looking forward to the burgeouning opportunities here seeing how Muttie regularly appoints herself Guest-Blogger on MY site!

M-m-m-m-Milton xx

Tuesday 13 April 2010

Meddling with Malapropisms



Frankly, there are times when I feel used.

Muttie is supposed to be studying various Comms Strategies right now with a view to getting a job and, far more importantly, more Dreamies (a yummy treat, manufactured by Mars) for me. But instead she's sidled up to me and announced with a forced brightness: "I know Milt! Let's have some fun and do your blog." Well, I'm telling you right now, there's no-way she's regurgitating her paltry, putrid thoughts down on my on-line diary. This sacred space dear followers, is between you lot and moi. There'll be no product placement or mutterings of a mad Muttie on here, let me assure you!

So anyways, can I just say: "miooow, miooow, MIIIIIIIow." Right, just had to get that off my furry chest. Reason for that was Maw and Paw have been huddling together of late, supposedly out of my earshot, and discussing a forthcoming meeting with a 'pet therapist' (they don't realise that cats have ten times the strength of human hearing. Doh!) So, I've picked up a concern they have with my miooow. They say I don't do it right. That I just do the 'oooow' bit and can't pronounce the 'mi' and I'm coming out all plaintive and well, 'wailleeeeeey' was Muttie's word. She says I hurt her ears, especially around 6am when I demand to get out and do my first patrol of the gardens. One likes to get out and make an early start on these things, non?

Let me tell you right now, there is NO way I'm going to a pet therapist. He or she will be human for a start. And I won't be able to focus on them up close (we cats tend to be short-sighted, which is a blessing when encountering Muttie head-on first thing in the morning!)

So, to move onto more interesting things...(and make her forget about taking me to the aforementioned pet therapist) Muttie was sitting staring at me earlier today with yet another problem on her mind. It's to do with the mother of one of the main characters in her novel. She wants her to have a 'funny foible.' She considered dementia (loads of laughs with that but it's kinda a sensitive subject too and frankly I don't know if Muttie has the wherewithall to do 'sensitive') so she then went on to talk about Tourettes - but I soon put her off that, BLOODY HELL!! And eventually we settled on 'malapropism' - you know, when you say the wrong word.

Her friend Alee put her onto this idea today when he was telling her about his sister-in-law who'd gone into labour with her first child and was having a terrible time. She recounted it later to him and, on describing the unmentionable events, told him: "Yes, it got so bad, the doctor had to seduce me!"

Well, did it not remind Muttie of the time when as a 16-year-old studying for her 'O' Grades (not yesterday, let me tell you) she'd depart to her bedroom, determined to swot, only to hear the impressed tones of her Nanny Mitchell: "Is that you away upstairs for some squatting now, honey?" Muttie was always left with this vision of giving birth to an 'O' Grade Maths paper (and which, in retrospect, would have been far more impressive than what she eventually ended up with!)

Milt the Mis-proportionally Maligned xxx