Diary of a Mad Cat merchandise

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

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?

I love my fireplace

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'

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

I'd rather be asleep.

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

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

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!

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!

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?

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!

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

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!

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

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!

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!!

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

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

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?

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....