Diary of a Mad Cat

RIP Dorkus 1994 - 2010

2010-09-13T12:34:00.005+10:00

This morning I said goodbye to my darling Dorkus. He was 16 & a half human years old and had been not himself ever since my return from Sydney when I picked him up from the cattery. It had been a bad year for both of us - when my relationship ended, he lost his personal slave and spent a lot more time home alone. Moving is supposed to be one of the most stressful events in life, and I can imagine for a cat seeing all the boxes being packed, or seeing one part of your family turn up late one evening and take all those boxes away and then never return...well it must be difficult to comprehend.

When I came back from my Sydney trip and took him to his new home, it was as if he'd turned into an old man while I'd been away. Maybe he'd been fretting, thinking he'd been abandoned, thinking another human had deserted him.

The above photo was taken a few weeks ago, in the first few days that we were at our new place. But very quickly he stopped joining me in other rooms and spent most of his time sleeping on the bed. Then he started turning his nose up at food. I'd end up offering him a selection of five different flavours so he'd eat something. Then I started cooking him chicken breast but eventually he stopped eating that as well. But still I hoped he'd settle in and start eating again, and he seemed quite content just sleeping all the time. He walked like he'd had a few too many and got up and down the bed very slowly. But I still had hope.

But things changed again over the weekend and I knew he was no longer comfortable. He was skin and bones. He was spending long periods of time crouched in the bathroom, sometimes in the shower recess, or in the lounge room. He was staring off into space more than sleeping and I knew it was time to say goodbye.

In the car on the way to the vet, he didn't even meow and usually he would make his complaints about being in a noisy vehicle loud and clear.

I gave him a cuddle before the needle and then it was done. Very quick and very peaceful. I stayed with him for another 10 minutes to say goodbye. And then I came home with an empty cat carrier and a very heavy heart.

Goodbye Dorkus, we had a fabulous life together.

And you can read some of that fabulous life on this blog.

Guest appearance at Love Cats

2010-01-20T18:30:00.003+11:00

Check out my guest appearance at the lovely Love Cats Down Under blog. The blog is made up of bunch of Aussie CATegory authors who love cats (as they should) and I can tell you that these ladies are fabulous authors - and I know, because I'm such a well-read cat.

But it's time to get back to my 'to be sh(read) pile... not that I would ever shred the books of these lovely ladies...but when a book is titled Leftovers...they just shouldn't tempt me. Hey I was hungry - the slave had escaped again.

Why my mum thinks I'm strange

2009-04-05T10:24:00.004+10:00

You see, I'm a cat of many moods.

You think I would want to sleep just in the new cat tent.

But after a week of camping out, I've decided that I prefer other comforts. The novelty of the cat tent has worn off.

Sleep is my favourite pastime. I spend a lot of my life asleep. So it's always good to mix it up a bit. Find new places to sleep:

This morning, mum discovered me asleep on her manuscript on the dining room table. It was quite comfy, I must say. And I promise I didn't read any of it.

Of course, as soon as Dad wakes up, I'll have to move. He has very set ideas about where I should sleep and where I shouldn't. Spoilsport!

Reality TV Cash Cat

2009-03-15T15:38:00.005+11:00

Guess what, mum?

I'm on TV!

Looks like TV producers finally realised what a CASH CAT I could be for them and gave me my own reality TV show.

Watch out Dr Harry, Dorkus is taking over the small screen.

So of course, with the TV show, comes the obligatory magazine covers. Don't I look handsome?

And the newspaper articles:- (funny thing, I used to live in Annandale, that's where mum found me, but not Minnesota)

A cat can only dream, can't he?

I stare at the TV so often that I wonder what it would be like to be on it. When I was a little one, and didn't know better, I used to try and catch the tennis ball. Never worked though.

I know my mum would love me to be a CASH CAT - she already thinks I am, she thinks I eat the cash. Not make the cash.

So any producers out there in TV land, I'm just sitting here, waiting to be discovered.

(Photos made at Photofunia)

I have myspace (and so does the pig!)

2008-01-12T17:08:00.000+11:00

I just could not believe my ears when mum told me about this pig Lucy who has her own myspace page. I mean, a pig! Mum reckons she's really cute and she's a miniature pig and she wants to be Babe, but don't we all?

Well, I didn't think that it was very fair - for Lucy to have a myspace and all I've got is this blog. Where are my friends, hey? I know there's people out there who love me. I've got friends, right? I just haven't splashed them all over the internet. But it got me thinking, and meowing, and then I started nagging mum. I need a myspace. You've got yourspace. Dad's got hisspace. I want myspace.

So mum gave in and made me a myspace page. Meow! I'm a happy cat now. So come and be my friend right here!

If you must, you can also make friends with the pig here. Mum said I had to be friends with the pig too, but have you heard of anything more absurd? A cat and a pig being friends! Apparently the pig is friends with a dog, so she has no taste at all.

Anyway, I really hope I have more friends than the pig! But surely there'd be no question about that.

Oh, and now I have my own email - diaryofamadcat at hotmail dot com.

Hope to see you on myspace.

Back from the detention centre

2007-09-30T14:29:00.000+10:00

You know it's been nearly six months since I blogged. Where have I been? Well, just lazing around really, gazing out the window, bullying mum and dad to get out of bed at 6am because my stomach waits for no-one, enjoying the fire, and when that's gone, plonking myself on mum's lap everytime she sits down and you know....just general cat stuff.

They left me at a detention centre back at Easter time. I hated it. So I went on a hunger strike. How dare they treat me like a common prisoner, and put me behind bars. The warden lady came and gave me food every day but I just turned my nose up at it and sulked. I'd rather be under house arrest at home - well, if it's good enough for Paris... I was surprised when 3 days later mum and dad came to collect me. I really thought they'd left me there for good. I was so pleased to see them.

Last month, they took me back to the detention centre. They told me I was going to the Cat Resort. It wasn't exactly cocktails and buffets but this time they also took along the food I like and because I knew they were coming back for me, I relaxed and enjoyed my holiday. I even talked to the other cats there. So I'm quite happy to go back...just don't make it more than a week, hey?

I'm a bit put out at the moment. I used to have a prime seat on the desk looking out the window. But something's happened. Mum's laptop has disappeared and now she's got this big monster old computer sitting on the desk and there's no room for me!

I promise I shall blog a bit more frequently from now on!

Call me

2007-04-05T20:39:00.000+10:00

If you're trying to ring mum or dad, and you can't get through - this is probably why!

Hey- I've got to talk to my mates somehow! And they refuse to buy me a mobile phone.

A Dorkus Christmas

2006-12-26T10:02:00.000+11:00

As usual, I had to wake up the oldies to get them out of bed and feed me. Just because it's Christmas and there's no kiddies in the house, doesn't mean they can sleep in! They've got me. So we were up at seven, opening the presents. I'd been a really good boy and hadn't opened any presents only. Well, not really! I just took a little peek.

So for Christmas, I got a new water bowl, a catnip mouse and a couple of other toys, including a dangly dragonfly that springs back whenever I try to grab it. And they made me wear the silly santa hat most of the day, and pose for photos!

Lunch was great. Roast chook! My favourite. And ham! Double good. Then in the afternoon I got a tin of turkey and gravy. This is how I felt after that! One full belly.

And then dinner, we had turkey and ham. No wonder I chucked up all over mum's important papers the next morning (but that's a whole other post).

I like Christmas, especially when Mum and Dad decide to spend it at home with me!

But I tell you what, it's an exhausting job playing Santa!

Two more sleeps = fifty more catnaps.

2006-12-23T11:25:00.000+11:00

And yes, there's a present under the tree for me. Only two more sleeps. Well, two more night-times - that probably equates to fifty more cat naps for me.

Mum and Dad are complaining that they can't have a hot shower. There was a big bang last night and now the hot water system is being replaced. Can't see what they're complaining about at all. Never saw the human attraction to immersing themselves in water. Cats are obviously smarter than humans. We don't have to drown ourselves to stay clean!

Have yourself a merry little Dorkus

2006-12-09T13:34:00.000+11:00

Okay, so for some reason Mum's old flatmate called me Dorkus, which is okay. I can live with it. But does she have to dress me up so that I look like a dork too?

See what I have to endure? Hopefully she'll forget about this outfit and won't dig it up again for Christmas Day. I mean, seriously, I am not Santa Claus, folks, I don't have the white beard or the fat belly (um, well not the white beard anyway, and don't count my whiskers.)

I tell you what! After this humiliation, I expect there to be some pretty good presents under the tree for me. Must go and investigate.....

Well, now I'm feeling really catty. Saw my name on a few presents, but that was in the 'from' section, 'To Mum' or 'To Dad.' Hang on, I don't remember going out and buying any presents for the oldies, let alone wrapping them up. There's something fishy going on here, and I'll need to investigate a bit further.

So where are the presents for me? Dorkus? It's not looking good. But I suppose it's still a couple of weeks away. I'll let you know what happens.

Oh no, I just had a horrible thought. Maybe that Santa hat and scarf WAS my present. Please don't tell me it's true!

I like November

2006-11-12T19:05:00.000+11:00

I really like November.

That's because Mum is doing Nanowrimo, which means she spends more time than usual in front of the computer with her butt in that chair. And I get to supervise. And curl up next to the computer and sleep soundly in mum's company. Nothing better.

Sure she still goes to that thing she calls a job during the week, muttering that she has to buy me cat food. But at night, once she's cooked dinner, she sits down and spends time with me on the computer.

She does get cross though when I decide the keyboard has had enough attention, and she should pay some attention to me. She doesn't like it when I walk across the keyboard. But I think the words I add to the novel could be valuable. Certainly would count towards the 50,000 goal. I just need to learn to walk on the space bar a few more times.

Cats and human toilets

2006-10-28T18:20:00.000+10:00

I don't know if you humans have noticed but we cats love the human toilet. We love watching the water disappearing and checking out what the humans have deposited.

But this cool cat doesn't have to wait for his humans to flush - he's worked out how to do it by himself.

I better not try it. Mum already thinks the water bill is high enough.

Diary of a Mad Cat merchandise

2006-09-24T18:55:00.000+10:00

I've been surfing blogs for a while now, and I've noticed that other bloggers have t-shirts and stuff, and I figured that I'm a famous cat in the catosphere, maybe I could have my own merchandise.
Mum had been making stuff and putting it on this site called Cafepress. She cuts out words and sticks them on paper, and calls it collage poetry. I was getting a bit miffed off. Lying next to her, watching her upload all these 'poems' to the computer and make t-shirts and mousepads. And so I nudged her, and said, 'Mum, you're missing the point! It's not the clever stuff that wins Funniest Videos, it's the cute animal stuff - and here I am!'

So she finally got the hint and sat down and uploaded my beautiful face to cafepress. She also played around with it and changed the colours in Photoshop, although I forbid her from morphing me or anything too weird.

So I'd like to announce the opening of Diary of a Mad Cat store. It's part of Mum's Chickollage shop, click on the link and check out my section.

Nocturnal adventure

2006-09-06T18:46:00.000+10:00

Heh heh heh!

Mum's been paranoid for as long as I can remember. Ever since I had the fight with the garbage truck, and ended up in that horrible stinky elephant hospital, she doesn't like me venturing outside alone. Thinks I'll get into all kinds of scrapes - brawls with neighbourhood cats, stalking feathered friends and playing chicken with cars. So I've pretended that I'm psychologically traumatised -- agoraphobic even -- and prefer the comfort and security of our house.

I had them fooled! Every time dad carried me outside and put me on the ground, I ran back inside. They decided I was a real scaredy cat - but I was just lulling them into a sense of complacency until I was ready to make my move.

I watched and waited. Prowled and prodded.

Finally, the other night, I nudged the screen door and it opened. The smell of the crisp night air and the song of the crickets beckoned me to freedom.

Prison break! I slipped out into the cool embrace of the night, my heart pounding that any moment I would be busted and would hear the familiar shout 'Dorkus get back inside' or the annoying hand clap which signals I'm in trouble.

It didn't happen and I ventured further and further into the night. Aah! The smell of nature was intoxicating. I breathed in deep and rolled in the grass, and switched on my night vision to look out for supper.

Then the voices started. My escape route had been discovered. (Knew I should've closed that door). Distressed voices filled the air. 'Dorkus, where are you?' and I heard the soft footsteps in the grass. I crouched down and didn't answer. I knew that their inferior human eyes would not spot me in the dark especially if I didn't give away my position by meowing. If I kept quiet, I could buy some time. I wasn't ready to give up my adventure. So after calling and tracking around the backyard for five minutes, the oldies gave up. I heard mum declare, 'He'll come home when he wants to.'

Well, I wasn't sure about that. I hadn't had the chance to explore my neighbourhood in daylight, let alone in the seductive night air. Maybe I could find myself a girlfriend.

I set the cats next door yowling but scampered off because mum would be alerted to my position. I checked the perimeter of the yard, sniffed around for vermin and enjoyed the rare luxury of freedom. Mate, this felt so good. I could stay out all night and go home for breakfast.

But then I started to shiver. It was chilly and I thought of my beautiful warm fire. I shivered again and ran to the back door, meowing so that mum would let me in. I'll leave the night hunting to the poor feline sods who don't have their own personal fire.

'Where've you been?' they asked when the opened the door, and proceeded to pull all the grass clippings off my fur, and checked me for ticks. I kept quiet. I'm not about to give away my nocturnal secrets. It's my adventure.

What do you mean there's no firewood?

2006-08-08T11:26:00.000+10:00

I love my fireplace

2006-07-31T12:05:00.000+10:00

I was a bit wary of this orange fire thing when dad first turned it on. I've heard stories about fires and they're not good. But as this has been warming up the house, I've been venturing closer and closer. Now I love my fireplace.

It is so much better than that silly little bar heater they used to use.

Aah! This is the life!

Chillin'

2006-06-17T18:39:00.000+10:00

Hey fans, cool cats and other dudes! I'm just chillin', listening to some new sounds. Catch ya later.

I'd rather be asleep.

2006-06-02T18:05:00.000+10:00

I've been a really slack blogger lately. And why? Because I love my new house, that's why! Plus it's winter. I'd rather spend my evening like this, than thinking about what to put on my blog.

After the shock therapy of moving, I wasn't impressed when I found out that this house is COLD. And then Mum nicked off and went to Adelaide, leaving me and Dad to fend for ourselves. Well, if she thinks she's getting her dressing gown back, she can forget about it! She came back and bought me a couple of blankets, but I still insist on having that dressing gown underneath for extra comfort. And then she bought some firewood, and now the house and my blankets are just cosy, thank you. No wonder I want to spend most of my life asleep.
Yawn! I'll be back when I wake up again.
Oh yes, and we're back on line!

On the move

2006-03-16T17:40:00.000+11:00

As you can see from the pics, we’re on the move again. I’m losing track. It’s only been 12 months since the last move, although the one before, we lived in the same house for five years.

I’ve seen the inside of a lot of houses, and on special occasions, Mum and Dad have let me out to explore the exterior. On other occasions, I’ve nudged the door, found it ajar, and made a break for it, running free through the paddock, under the trees, checking out the foliage and jungle.

I’m a very well travelled cat. I flew from Sydney to Adelaide (please don’t ask me to repeat THAT experience again – cats aren’t meant to fly, and dad, put a towel in the cage – how would you like it if you were stuck in a box inside a big white bird thing for a couple of hours. The trip back from Adelaide in the car was a bit more civilized but much longer, but I didn’t care so much because I spent most of the trip buzzing out on those little tablets that mum got from the vet. At about 3 am, the drugs would wear off and I would go on a rampage in whichever strange hotel room we’d ended up in, jumping up on benches, knocking things down, and driving mum and dad crazy.

Apparently this car trip will be much shorter. About half an hour. I suppose I can handle that. But I do have to be vocal about it. Have to tell mum that she’s not about to take me to the vet again!

Why I've been absent from my blog

2006-02-01T16:27:00.000+11:00

For everyone worried about my lack of blogging, don't blame me! Blame my mother.

We have no internet at home. So I spend lazy afternoons stretched out, thinking about my blogging, and it doesn't happen, because by the time mum gets to the library she forgets what I told her!

Actually, I'm a bit peeved. Mum's told me I should start pulling my weight around the house, get out there and do some work, earn some money, pay some bills! She's kidding isn't she? I don't cost that much!

I don't turn the lights on and chew up electricity - I'd be happy to live in the dark all night. And I don't yabber on the phone all day and run up that bill. So how are the bills my fault? Hey? Sure, mum and dad have to give me my favourite food every day and keep my kitty litter nice and fresh, but if I was charging for my companionship, they wouldn't be able to afford my bill!

So stop whining, mum and dad.

They're looking for a new house. Tell you what, it better have as nice a sunbaking spot at this one! I'm quite partial too it.

Your friend, Dorkus

Oh Christmas tree, oh christmas tree!

2005-12-17T22:21:00.000+11:00

Well we have a Christmas tree now!

Get a load of the size of this thing. They've got to be kidding, right? It's a midget tree.

Oops. Knocked it over.

This is more like it. A big tree that I can hide under, climb, and attack presents.

I believe Mum and Dad are going to take the midget tree with them for Christmas, and leave me with the big tree. They better leave some presents under it for me. Or I'll leave them a big present for when they get home. I'm really good at shredding!

Please! No Flash Photography!

2005-12-10T21:37:00.000+11:00

Well, I suppose you can take one photo. Just one okay!

I said one photo, okay. I'm trying to sleep!

Will you just get out of here with that damn flash!!

Where's my turkey?

2005-12-08T21:37:00.000+11:00

I love Christmas. I love unwrapping everyone's presents so that Mum only has to wrap them all over again. Sometimes she leaves the opened wrapping with all my bite marks and scratch marks underneath the replacement wrapping so she can show all her friends what a clever cat I am.

But something odd is going on here. Yes, there are presents but they're not under a tree where I can poke and prod and investigate. They are sitting in the entertainment unit out of my reach. Well, I suppose if I tried, I could get to them.

And where's the tree? It's December guys! And it's still not up!

Today I heard a startling conversation between mum and dad. It seems that they're going to visit someone else for Christmas, and I'll be left to make do while the nice neighbour lady comes to feed me. But it doesn't sound like I'll be getting any turkey roast for dinner.

You can see in this picture that I wasn't particularly impressed about appearing in the family Christmas card!

I'm even less impressed this year. Looks like I'll have to invite all the local moggies over for our own Christmas luncheon.

Your friend, Dorkus

Feed me, mum!

2005-11-20T09:20:00.000+11:00

Oh- oh! I'm in trouble.

Yesterday, mum was sitting at the computer. Minding her own business. Bare calves.

And I had this sudden urge. I lunged at her and sunk my teeth into her calf. Drew blood and she yelled at me.

She was not happy. But damn it! I was hungry and she wasn't feeding me.
She tells me that I'm not supposed to have three meals a day. But SHE does. So I don't see why I can't.

I suppose we'll just get onto that overweight conversation again. But she's never really impressed when I miaow to her, 'Right back at you, tubby!'

The Tale of No Tail

2005-11-06T20:24:00.000+11:00

This is the'before' picture. I'm a strapping young kitten of less than a year old, with a beautiful long tail.

Mum always used to get cranky with me when I went outside. Said I was going to get myself in trouble. Said I didn't know what a big bad world it was out there. But I wanted excitement. I wanted adventure. I wanted to explore.

I got more than I bargained for. And the first of my nine lives was gone.

I can't really explain what happened. I guess I didn't see it coming. But I freak out now whenever I hear the sound of a big mean old nasty garbage truck approaching. Mum found me hours later. Hiding under the house next door. She didn't think it was me because I was a pale fascimile of my usual self. I was shaking, I was numb, I was in shock. I couldn't move my tail and I my paw hurt as well. I didn't even answer her when she talked to me.

She took me down to the elephant hospital. Well there weren't really any elephants there but that's what they had on the sign. And I had to stay there for days. They kept saying not today, you can't go home today. I'd cry when mum came in to visit me but they wouldn't let her take me home. And then they said that my beautiful tail had to come off. Because I couldn't move it, they said it would be too dangerous for me to keep it - I could get it stuck somewhere and injure myself more.

When I got back from hospital, Mum's flatmate started calling me stumpy bum. Bloody rude!

I kept looking for my tail, going to clean it as I was used to, but it was gone. It took a while to adapt to not having a tail. But now, I hardly even remember having one.

Some people think I'm a manx when they first meet me, but I'm more special than that. Because I lived to tell the tail!

Curiosity almost killed the kitty!

2005-11-01T18:31:00.000+11:00

You know the saying Curiosity killed the Cat!

Well, curiosity certainly nearly killed a kitty called Hal.

You can check out the full story here -

Family Finds Cat Built Into Wall Of Their New House

We cats like a lot of sunbaking and snoozing in the sun, and if a house is being built around us - well, that's just an inconvenience and one we can quite happily ignore to catch some rays. But I need to warn the little fella - if you're going to snooze, make it a cat nap, with your ears still open and ready to wake up quickly if needed. Hope Hal finds a nice new home - already built!

Hal, my pal, it's better to sleep ON the window sill, than in the wall cavity!

Cats in sinks

2005-10-29T19:08:00.000+10:00

Now you've probably seen my gorgeous pic already, where I'm catching some sunlight in my glorious sunlounge.

But did you know it's a cat phenomenon? We just have this natural attraction to sinks and basins and baths. And Cats in Sinks has the evidence. Now I'm not going to tell you why it's a feline phenomenon -- that one you've got to work out for yourselves.

Capture this!

2005-10-20T20:13:00.000+10:00

We had a house full of filmmakers the other day.

Every where I looked there was a filmmaker. Sitting on the couch. Lying on the floor. Looking at the computer. Running up the stairs.

So I decided it was time to do something cinematic. Maybe I could get myself a starring role.

So I started doing my best psycho 'Look at Moi' behaviour. This involves tearing from my bed on one side of the house, into the kitchen, opening the cupboard door with my paw, diving into the cupboard....waiting...waiting...waiting...and then diving back out again, and charging across the room.

It's one of my favourite games. Almost as good as playing cat-in-a-box.

But you know what? Not one of those filmmaker even bothered capturing it on film.

It's so hard to find good help!!

2005-10-20T20:00:00.000+10:00

I got very excited. Mum told me she was getting me a personal assistant. And sure enough, Traciee turned up. But mate, getting her to actually update my blog was a totally different matter. She can type fast enough when she's on MSN but when it comes my very important diary, she'd rather tease me with my toys. And I thought I was going to have my own secretary. She should try typing with furry paws.

At least, it's easy to get her out of bed in the morning and get her to feed me. But some mornings she would jump straight on the computer and ignore my cries for food.

Anyway, she's going home in a couple of days. I'll no longer have my own personal slave. I'll have to go back to wacking dad in the back to get him out of bed and feed me.

But at least she was a pushover to give me extra food. Then again, look at my eyes - wouldn't you do what I wanted?

Pink Flamingos

2005-09-22T11:34:00.000+10:00

Mum bought me this pink flamingo thingie. I hope she didn't expect it to stay in one piece. The thingie has feathers -- how can I resist tearing it apart? Don't tease me and expect me to keep my claws in and my mouth closed. These teeth are made for tearing, baby! These claws are made for scratching. The pink flamingo thingie ended up in several pieces all over the house. I wonder when I'll get a new one?

She reckons I'd run away if I saw a real flamingo. It's worth a try, I reckon.

your mate, dorkus.

The problem with fame

2005-09-14T20:42:00.000+10:00

It's one of the drawbacks of fame. Those pesky paparazzi....bugging my house, stalking me for my picture, surrounding my house.

There are more and more of them every day. Obviously as a result of my blog.

Trying to catch me in a compromising position, waiting for that 'fat' photo or a pic of me being less than my normal cool self.

You can see in this particular photo...I lost the plot. Yeah, I let one of the little ferrets have it! Right in the camera lenses. Bet he won't be back in a hurry. But they took delight in publishing the photo.

Your famous furry friend, Dorkus.

Wanna be in the movies?

2005-09-01T22:09:00.000+10:00

Mum did a internet quiz to find out who would direct a movie about her life:

Sofia Coppola
Your film will be 76% romantic, 30% comedy, 35% complex plot, and a $ 31 million budget.

Relatively inexperienced (The Virgin Suicides, Lost In Translation) as a director, but already highly respected and connected -- her dad, Francis, directed all The Godfather movies, Apocolypse Now. Also, at last word she's dating Quentin Tarantino, so I'm sure he'll have some input into the substance of your film. Sofia's good at making the romantic drama that is your life. Who didn't have at least a lump in the throat at the end of Lost In Translation? She's already won one Academy Award for her writing, now she'll be the first woman to receive one for directing -- YOUR FILM!

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 94% on action-romance

You scored higher than 28% on humor

You scored higher than 25% on complexity

You scored higher than 37% on budget

Link: The Director Who Films Your Life Test written by bingomosquito on Ok Cupid

Well, fair enough - but it didn't answer the most important question: Who would play me? And have I signed a release anyway? I'm not sure I'm going to give permission, and any movie about mum would have to have me in it....and Dad I suppose. Well, okay, I'll sign...but only if I get the merchandise rights....

Oh my poor paws!

2005-08-19T10:27:00.000+10:00

Aaaaaaawwwwwwwwwww!

You may have heard my blood curdling scream from here to the moon. Mum certainly heard it, but dad - dear old dumb dad - he with the clodhopper feet that had just trodden on me, thought he'd stepped on a mouse!

Hello? You should know the spot in front of the sliding door is just my favourite position in the morning to catch some rays. So why walk through the door carrying a backpack so you can't see what's under your great big elephant hoofers!!! This is my spot, and you don't need to treat me like a doormat.

Mum gave me a kiss and cuddle later and rubbed my poor paws, but now I think I'm going to go off and sleep under the desk - still a little bit of sun there, but at least the great clodhopper won't be able to find me.

BTW, if your'e wondering what that furry thing is to the right of the pic - well, that's Prince the Dead Cat. Dad's idea of a joke I think. Mum bought if years ago for her granddad - because well, he had a sick sort of humour. Liked that kind of thing. I figure, if I ignore it long enough, maybe it will go away.

Party Animals

2005-08-19T08:46:00.000+10:00

Now I don't reveal too much about my parties. Swank affairs they are -- with gorgeous felines and fancy tidbits. But I don't want mum to know or she might never leave me in the house alone again -- especially at night.

Last night, I was surfing the net, and I found this bunch of Party Animals! Sure looks like they're having a great time. I expect my invite will arrive shortly.

Dorkus

Looks like I've got a fan...

2005-08-18T21:06:00.000+10:00

...or maybe this youngster is starting his own blog.

Dad caught me this morning, in much the same position at the computer. But I can't write when someone's watching me.

So I acted disdainful and curled up

and went to sleep.

(Have I mentioned that he HATES it

when I sit on HIS chair?)

Hey look! Someone's written a book about me!

2005-08-14T15:27:00.000+10:00

Some chap named Derek Hansen has written a book called Psycho Cat. As many of you know, I've had that nickname for many years. That's probably why mum's friend Leane gave her the book.

Anyway, I've got some reading to do. I'll return at some point with a book review.

Dorkus

I'm a-huntin' meeces

2005-08-14T14:57:00.000+10:00

Mum went away for the weekend. She must've been feeling guilty because when she got back she got me a present.

Damn if I can figure out. I catch the mouse, and then it goes spinning around again. I reckon it must be Speedy Gonzales or a close relative. And every time I think I've got the little rascal, I can't pull it out of its plastic house. I'd go stark raving mad if I was stuck in that little plastic house too - no wonder it's running around in circles.

Anyway, you know where to find me now! Trying to solve the problem of getting that mouse out of there! Yes, I have a new addiction. I'll leave mum to her ebay addiction and I'll go meece-hunting.

I know I've just got to be patient. Sooner or later, it's going to have to come out for food.

Your frustrated feline friend, Dorkus.

PETA

2005-07-26T17:56:00.000+10:00

Now, I've never really thought much of a dogs! Smelly critters with little self control, and no respect for their own bodies. Seriously, they'll roll in anything and they're literally anybody's. Pay them a kind word and a bit of attention, and it's tail wagging and jumping around - unless they're one of those nasty pieces - that just want to bite everything in their path.

I've always thought that CATS are the superior beast - after all, we have sophistication and decorum.

So much as I have little time for dogs, I have even less time for humans that don't know the meaning of humane!

Check out the following:

The following story is from This is True dated 17 July 2005. It is
Copyright 2005 Randy Cassingham, all rights reserved, and reprinted here
with
permission:

"Ethical" Defined
After more than 100 dead dogs were dumped in a trash dumpster over
four weeks, police in Ahoskie, N.C., kept an eye on the trash receptacle
behind a supermarket. Sure enough, a van drove up and officers watched
the occupants throw in heavy plastic bags. They detained the two people
in the van and found 18 dead dogs in plastic bags in the dumpster,
including puppies; 13 more dead dogs were still in the van. Police say
the van is registered to the headquarters of People for the Ethical
Treatment of Animals, and the two occupants, Andrew B. Cook, 24, and
Adria Joy Hinkle, 27, identified themselves as PETA employees. An autopsy
performed on one of the dogs found it was healthy before it was killed.
Police say PETA has been picking up the animals -- alive -- from North
Carolina animal shelters, promising to find them good homes. Cook and
Hinkle have been charged with 62 felony counts of animal cruelty. In
response to the arrests PETA President Ingrid Newkirk said it's against
the group's policy for employees to dump animals in the trash, but "that
for some animals in North Carolina, there is no kinder option than
euthanasia." (Roanoke-Chowan News-Herald) ...Oops, my mistake: that's
"Playing God" Defined.

In his author's notes section, Cassingham had more to say about this
story:

The more I learn about PETA, the less I think of
them. The story of them killing animals isn't even unusual. According to
PETA's own filings, in 2004 PETA killed 86.3 percent of the
animals entrusted to its care -- a number that's rising, not falling.
Meanwhile, the SPCA in PETA's home town (Norfolk, Va.) was able to find
loving homes for 73 percent of the animals put in its care. A shortage of
funds? Nope: last year PETA took in $29 million in tax-exempt donations.
It simply has other priorities for the funds, like funding terrorism
(yes, really). But don't take my word for it: I got my figures from
http://www.PETAkillsAnimals.com
-- and they have copies of PETA's state and federal filings to back it
up. The bottom line: if you donate money to PETA because you think they
care for and about animals, you need to think some more. PETA literally
yells and screams about how others "kill animals" but this is how
they operate? Pathetic.

And you know what I wonder? PETA's official count of animals
they kill is 86.3 percent. But if they're going around picking up
animals, killing them while they drive around and not even giving them a
chance to be adopted, and then destroying the evidence by dumping
the bodies in the trash, are those deaths being reported? My
guess: no. While 86.3 percent is awful, the actual number is probably
much, much higher. How dare they lecture anyone
about the "ethical" treatment of animals!

(This is True is a weekly column featuring
weird-but-true news
stories from around the world, and has been published since 1994. Click
the link for info about free subscriptions.)

Catching up with the news

2005-07-10T00:41:00.000+10:00

Mum doesn't believe that I can read the newspaper. She just thinks I'm trying to look intellectual. As if, I even have to try. In the words of a famous bear....I'm smarter than your average cat...

If I can write a blog, of course, I can read the news.

Mum gets upset when I come and sit on the top of the newspaper as she's reading. I'm just trying to read Column 8 http://www.smh.com.au/column8/index.html

Other times, she comes home and the newspaper is shredded all over the floor. My whiskers, does she get grumpy! And dad's worse - he half chucks a wobbly. They should try turning the page with furry mittens and claws. It's not as easy as it looks and I'm afraid, I end up with little bits of paper all over the floor. I'm just trying to stay on top of current affairs.

Then again, I can't really give the same excuse for the bits I've gnawed off the boxes. There's no news on the boxes. Maybe I can say I'm teething????

Sleeping Arrangements

2005-07-06T22:49:00.000+10:00

I've been having a dispute with dad about sleeping arrangements ever since he arrived on the scene. You see, it hasn't always been the three of us. At one time -- a very long time ago - actually I'm a bit hesitant to say exactly when because I don't want to reveal my age. A cat has to maintain some mystique. Suffice to say, I look darn good for my age, and that's without Plastic Surgery. These whiskers are all my own! No feline implants for this cat.

- Now where was I? Oh yes -- sleeping arrangements. I used to have mum all to myself. I didn't have a dad then. Well, I did sort of -- Mum's flatmate, Michael - he was the one who found me, and he would feed me and stuff, but it was mum I would snuggle up to every night. Then Michael moved out and HE moved in.

Everything was okay at first. I got used to having this new person around the house, and he'd pat me and fed me, so he was kind of cool, and he stayed in his own room a lot and went out a lot at night. So it was usually just me and mum and that's the way I liked it.

But then everything changed. And I mean really changed. Suddenly he started sleeping in mum's bedroom and I was banished! What was going on??? And then mum said I had a new daddy. Well, I didn't like this very much and I started to ambush him every time he came down the stairs.

Years later (as I've already said, I'm not revealing how many) -- we've grown accustomed to each other. I've realised he's here to stay, and I think he realises that I might try to run away but I'll always be back before dinner time. In fact, he's a bit of a pushover really - I can usually get an extra feed out of him at lunchtime, and he's easier to prod out of bed than mum.
And the sleeping arrangements are well and truly sorted. I've got a day bed under the desk downstairs, and at night, I curl up on the end of the bed. Everything's right with the world -- we all know which side of the bed to sleep on.

Dorkus

2005-07-05T21:08:00.000+10:00

I know there's food on that plate!

Where did everyone go?

2005-06-18T21:01:00.000+10:00

I knew something was going on, on Thursday night. Mum didn't come home. Dad fed me, and well, he was the only one in the bed, so I had to cuddle up next to his feet. All night, I wondered where my mum was.
Doesn't she love me anymore? But in the morning, dad fed me so everything was alright.

Now I remember -- there's some really strange things happening around here! On Thursday morning, Mum went out really early and came back with this smelly creature who barked and growled at me. Then she went out again. I'm worried - because she hasn't come home - maybe the smelly creature ate her. Oh no, my mum has been kidnapped by a dog.

Friday morning, Dad left. I'm quite used to them coming and going, and the garage door going up and down - as if they can't make up their minds what they want to do. But he hasn't come home either! And it's now SATURDAY!

This morning when I wandered up the stairs to wake them up, and discovered that they hadn't snuck back in during the night, I had half a mind to call the RSPCA! But then the nice lady came in from next door and gave me some food. Of course, with a full belly, I went back to sleep. And she came back in the afternoon and fed me again. So, I guess that's that!

Mum's been dognapped and dad's gone off where-ever he goes.

Looks like I've got the place to myself!

Hey groovers....

.......it's PARTY-TIME!!

2005-06-04T21:34:00.000+10:00

Escape route --- photo taken in Adelaide - do I know my way around sliding doors?

Show me a door....

2005-06-04T21:26:00.000+10:00

There aren't many doors that I haven't mastered. Especially if mum and dad leave them ajar - well, then, they may as well give me an open invitation.

You see, I have a cupboard fetish. An obsession with those dark little spaces that hold items of...well, I have to check them out, don't I? There might be some food in there... Open biscuit packets...even mice...what's a cat going to do? Got to have a sniff around.

I love those sliding doors. They're the best. Just slip a paw in between the door and the frame. Little bit of a push and it's open. But the game's up. Mum and dad busted me today, opening the door from the house into the garage. Now they're talking about locking it. Spoil all my fun. They'll really have to worry the day I work out how to use the remote on the garage door. Because wishful thinking sure doesn't open it!

Dorkus.

2005-06-04T21:25:00.000+10:00

Inspection time.

2005-05-23T18:47:00.000+10:00

Patiently waiting for breakfast!!!

My parents need a new alarm clock!!!

2005-05-23T18:34:00.000+10:00

I tell you what -- it took ages to get mum and dad out of bed this morning. It was like trying to raise the dead! My stomach starts rumbling at about 6am. I want food! And I can't open those silly little packets myself. Believe me, I've tried! I've mastered opening the cupboards, and getting into the Jatz bickies if dad is silly enough to leave the packet out, but those little catfood packets, they've certainly made them cat-proof!

So for the past two weeks, mum's been on holidays...so I've given her a bit of a break and let her sleep in. And I've tapped dad on the head instead...usually he gets up and feeds me and goes back to bed. And once my tummy's full, I can do the same.

This morning...well, I realised pretty quickly that mum had to go to work because her alarm went off and she hit the snooze button, looked at me, and turned over and went back to sleep. Tap, tap, tap. Well, a cat's only got so much patience, especially when his stomach's growling! Tap, tap, tap. TAP, TAP, TAP.

Okay, I'll try dad's side....WACK! Oh crap, probably shouldn't have had the claws out that time!

'DORKUS!!!'

Better run down the stairs...but at least they're out of bed now!!!

Your furry friend, Dorkus

2005-05-22T15:21:00.000+10:00

I could always try World Federation Wrestling for my 15 minutes of fame.

Why wasn't I in the film?

2005-05-22T15:10:00.000+10:00

So what's going on, hey? Mum and dad tell me they made a film today with a bunch of high school kids.

What about me? It isn't fair...I've had enough now I want my share...

Now I know that I didn't want to get out of bed this morning because it was really chilly when they left....but that's no reason to leave me out of the film. I'm the only star in this family. Really! They just don't give me the opportunity to prove it...so I'm left here blogging.

But...(snigger, smirk)...mum tells me dad kept stuffing up all his lines in the film. They had to do take after take for him to get it right. Guess that will make one hell of a bloopers tape!
Moi...I'm a professional. I would've got it right on the first take. But of course, if I didn't like the script, I wouldn't do it. Unless they persuaded me with some goodies.

Oh, well, looks like I'll have to send in an audition tape to Big Brother after all.

Looks like I'm not going to be starring in Cool Bananas anytime soon....

2005-05-22T07:34:00.000+10:00

It's a bit chilly this morning. Think I'll stay right here for now!

How to find 15 minutes of TV fame?

2005-05-20T15:35:00.000+10:00

The Australian Idol auditions are on at the moment. And I reckon I've got what it takes to be the next Aussie Idol. I can even put on the Guy Sebastian wig if they reckon I need an afro. (see picture below) Geez, I'd have to be better than some those wailers who get on TV! At least I'm cute! although I better start practicing my singing - I think What's New Pussycat? will be my audition piece.

Hang on! These auditions are in Sydney! I'm not getting into that dodgem car for 8 hours. And I'm certainly not going to fly! One flying experience was enough (and that's a story for another day!)

Looks like I'll just have to send in my tape to Australia's Funniest Home Videos instead. The one of dad sweeping me across the floor with the broom.

Or maybe I'll give Big Brother a call. They could do with a cat in THAT house!

2005-05-20T15:29:00.000+10:00

Guy Sebastian - move over!

2005-05-19T19:12:00.000+10:00

I'm back on line!!!

What was that all about?

2005-05-19T18:39:00.000+10:00

What does my mother think she's playing at?

First she lets me go outside, but puts the cat cage on the ground. As if I'm going to get into that JAIL voluntarily! It usually means one thing -- a trip to the vet and a jab in the bum, or even worse, an ENEMA! Either way, I'm going to have a SORE BUM so I'm not going to fall for that one again!

Then dad tries to push me into the cage. It takes three attempts.

They can't even get me through the door, especially when I ruffle up my fur.
I do a quick spin around and run back out before dad's even had a chance to blink.
They get me in and close the door. DAMN!

I better eat some more Whiskas. I'm almost too fat for the door of the cage. D'you think I keep demanding lunch for no reason? Three packs of Whiskas singles a day should just about get me to the ideal cat weight. Besides, if mum and dad can have 3 meals a day, I don't see why I should STARVE!

So I'm in the cage, and they stick me in that noisy machine that mum calls her dodgem car. I hear that dogs love them but then again, dogs have no style. I protest loudly but she just tells me to shush, it'll be alright. 'We're not going to the vet.' We'll see about that.

She drives for about 5 minutes and then pulls over and lets me out of the jail, throwing my prison to the back of the car. Odd! she never lets me out of the cage until the vet is ready to see me. But I don't think we're at the vet. There's a vacant bit of land with trees and a house opposite. Although it could be a vet. Some of those brick buildings look nice and friendly from the outside, but then you get inside and a man in a white coat ambushes you. And before you know it, YOWL -- sore bum! But I can't see any signs with that three letter word *V*E*T*. I can't even seen a sign with a big bloody expletive - you know the one - VETERINARY. Maybe I'm safe after all.

She tells me to have a look for koalas, pointing to a bunch of trees. What is a koala? One of those caramello things she eats, maybe she's hoping one will fall out of the trees. She tells me that they're cute grey cuddly things, and I turn up my nose in disgust. Cute! I'm the only cute cuddly thing here. And I suddenly have a flashback to a couple of koalas on television. Cute and cuddly - pig's bum! They had claws a lot sharper and nastier than mine and they can yowl worse than any tom cat I know.

There is this sudden ringing noise and she puts this red and white thing to her ear. I'm out of here. I cower down and crawl under her seat and don't move. Oh dear, what's she doing? She's turned the noisy beast on again, and we're going somewhere else.

She stops again and turns off the car and I hold my breath. What is she up to? She's obviously decided that she won't be able to sell me on ebay and she's going to chuck me out of the car to find a new home. I'll be very very quiet, under the seat -- maybe she'll forget I'm here. She won't be able to pull me out of here in a hurry anyway. I fall asleep.

I wake up a while later and crawl out of my dark hidy hole, winding myself around her leg. I jump up on the seat and look out the window. This does look like a nice place to live but I'm not going to live here without my mum. Lots of trees and yum, birds. My stomach rumbles. I tread carefully over the handbreak into the back of the car and walk around my cage, sniffing. Doesn't look like there's any food around, and its a good thing I don't need my kitty litter yet. Because it ain't here. Mum's reading a book, but she keeps looking at the phone thingy and sighing. Might as well curl up behind her foot.

The phone rings again and I hear her say that its getting ridiculous. She's not kidding. Why are we sitting in the dodgem car? I can't work out what's going on...and then she goes back to her book and I sleep again.

I wake up and realise we're moving again and the silly phone is ringing. I stand up and look out the window and watch the world go by. She pulls up and dad hands a bottle of coke in the window and then we're off again. Are we going to live in the car now?

Finally, finally, we've been sitting in the car and it's getting dark. Even though she put my bed in the car with us, I prefer to be right behind her feet, that way I can jump out too if she makes a run for it. And then dad hops in the passenger seat of the car? Where did he come from? We drive off, and next thing, he's hopping out. I stand up and take a good look around. I'd know that driveway anyway. Yaay, we're home! But then the neighbour's car drives in and she pushes my head down so I can't be seen.

So when I finally get through the door, I head straight for the kitty litter. And mum gives me some food. Oh, there's no place like home!!!

But I still have no idea what she was up to!

Anyone have any ideas?

2005-05-19T18:36:00.000+10:00

I'm ready to CAT-a-BLOG!

Hang in there

2005-04-28T16:17:00.000+10:00

Hang in there, everybody!

Dorkus says he'll be back real soon.

Still no internet access so he's spending a lot of time asleep, dreaming about his blog.

Back soon!

No internet access.

2005-04-01T17:19:00.000+10:00

Diane here! Dorkus has sent me to the library with a message to post on his blogs. Actually, he's quite peeved that he's not allowed in the library. He thinks that 'no animals'is a dumb rule and is offended that he cannot increase his cultural and learned knowledge by sticking his nose in library books. Although, 'no dogs' is probably a good move. Face it, they're not cultured at all.

Here's the message:

WE HAVE NO INTERNET ACCESS

after the move!

Yes, I'm going psycho!

Yes, I miss my readers!

We don't even have a telephone until the telephone company gets its act together and lays the cables.

How primitive is that? A house with no internet. A cat with no blog.

Thank you for reading. And I will return to you as soon as I can. Or send Mum to the library with more messages for my readers. Meantime I'm saving up my stories!

Your furry friend, Dorkus

2005-03-13T18:47:00.000+11:00

I supervise the Ebay sales!

Oh no! It's happening again..

2005-03-12T10:45:00.000+11:00

I've got a feeling of deja vu. I've seen it so many times. The same odd behaviour of my parents. But I thought I was safe now. After all, it's been 4 and a half years since the last time.

The place is filling up with boxes. They're talking about what they can live without. What to sell. What to get rid of. I've heard my name mentioned a few times. But they can't possibly being discussing getting rid of me. Mum wouldn't do that to me.

Then again, she's been spending a lot of time on ebay. She better not be thinking about putting me up for auction.

There's all this stuff piled up on the driveway this morning and people keep coming and looking. They've already sold my chair and my bed! I'm insulted - despite the fact that I stopped using the bed over a year ago. I'm 10 years old! Surely that's too old to be sleeping in a Winnie the Poo kids lounge.

And I've heard whisper that when we move, I have to be invisible. Pretend I'm not there. Last time they tried that, the neighbour busted me and dobbed me in. He thought he was king of the villa or something. Problem is, I like sitting in windows, and so many house owners are just not cat friendly.

Your pal, about to be in transit, Dorkus

2005-02-17T10:28:00.000+11:00

It's been a strange week! I've had company most of the week, so I haven't been able to get up to my useful mischief. Not that I'm about to reveal in a public forum, what my usual mischief is.

Mum's been sick. Again! I reckon she might just be sick of work or something. So she's been here, getting underfoot, hogging the computer chair, watching Desperate Housewives (without a cat in sight!) and ignoring my pleas for a lunchtime treat, or an outside expedition.

Still it's nice to have company - I just wish she was a bit more malleable when it came to extra treats. Looks like all the miaows aren't going to sway her, so I might as well have a catnap!

Your friend, Dorkus

Kitchen Sink Dreaming

2005-02-13T01:43:00.000+11:00

The pitfalls of a east-facing house!

Endless summer

2005-02-12T23:09:00.000+11:00

Phew! It's hot here. And a cat can only lie on the cold tiles so long before he's forced to find a bed of the softer (and unfortunately hotter) variety on the carpet.

If I lie on my back, and hold my feet in the air....aah, that's better.

No, I'm not playing dead. And no, it's not an invitation for you to tickle my belly. I'm just trying to COOL DOWN!

Seriously, if you had a fur coat that you could NEVER take off, you would try anything to keep cool!

But in winter, I had to do the opposite. I swear, the only warm place in the house, was the kitchen sink! (See piccie). Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Dorkus.

Regurgitation

2005-02-09T22:57:00.000+11:00

Geez, I can't even be sick nowdays without people passing comment, asking me if I'm alright, and wanting to take me to the vet. He only wants to stick a thermometer up my bum or worse!

If I want to throw up, I'll just throw up alright!

I don't need any lectures about

gobbling my food down too fast (that's my prerogative!)
yelling because my vomit is dangerously near the carpet
wondering if I'm constipated (I'm throwing up -- you've got the wrong end of the cat!)
or whispers about me being bulimic!

I'm a cat. Cats throw up! Get over it!

2005-02-07T20:40:00.000+11:00

Dorkus, your Cata-blog host

Meoww!

2005-02-07T20:18:00.000+11:00

Well, all I can say is it's about feline time!

Adelaide. 1998. I was proudly editing the family newsletter, then the rug was pulled out from under my claws... no more newsletter, no more purrfect prose from yours truly.

So here, we are. Coffs Harbour 2005 -- and my mistress Diane has finally vacated the hot seat long enough for me to cata-blog!

I know everything that goes on in this place. They think I'm sleeping but I'm really resting with my eyes closed, keeping my ears open to anything worth listening to.

Of course, 'Dorkus! What have you been up to now?' is never worth acknowledging. So they shouldn't expect me to come running.

So welcome to my Cata-blog! I promise to keep you updated on the ins and outs of beautiful Moonee, and fill you in on how I got from Adelaide to here.