Hello, I'm Reggie formerly known as 3. I used to live in  a commune across the road but I moved out about oh four years ago now and came to live here. Tell the truth there was a bit of trouble and when I found myself over here, it seemed a bit dangerous to go back. There used to be a really nice elderly lady dog here. She was stone deaf but a good laugh and nice to cuch up to, you know.

Anyway, she passed on and a few weeks later the little white job arrived. I understand that the folks didn't want to be without a dog but did they have to pick that noisy, smelly in your face little brat. I dare she'll improve with time. The one that came after her is all right. He's a bit of a clown and a bit unsure of himself but he'll shape up.

Friday July 17th (I think) Another day in Paradise awaits. Life can be fairly boring here for a cat but I don't mind that. I can come and go as I please and once I'm outside, well, the world's my lobster or what ever.

When the weather's good, I walk miles through the fields. I steer clear of the roads, even the lane 'cause there's lorries and lots of other motors at the moment, 'cause they're cutting down trees in  what used to be the forest but the fields, that's different, that's my world. The weather's not good today so I'll stay in bed for awhile. I can do that, if I want. I'll just stay and dream and wait till my next scrummy dish of tuna cat food.

Don't go in much for photographs but if they do, well why shouldn't I.

One of my favourite pictures, dinner!

August 4th

I've got worms. I think she who must be obeyed knows. Well, when ever I go off my grub, which I do sometimes especially when I've been out and about killing and eating small furry mammals or sweet little dickey birds, she assumes that it's worms. Trouble is she's generally right.

At least I'm not like the plebs next door (both sides) who have to have tablets when they're carrying a load of worms, no, I'm special, I get drops on my neck and that gets rid of the problem. Don't ask me how, I mean I can't get around to lick it off, but somehow I absorb it like osmosis and the worms go. When she does us all together she calls it 'mass vermicide'. She thinks she's really clever and I suppose she is.

Me, I'm cunning and crafty clever, the squirt well, she's intelligent but inexperienced and the clown, well, he's a clown and gets what he wants by looking sad and unloved so I suppose that's pretty clever too but the boss, there's a complicated mind even for a person but I do not go there. This is my blog and should be about me and what I do and what I think I'll do now is go and kill something for a snack. Now what do I fancy. There were some rather plump little rabbits around awhile back.

August 5th

If I hear one more earnest word about sheep and how to be a proper sheep dog, I swear I'll bite off my own tail. She just goes on and on....

There were once two old gentlemen cats here , or so I was once told by the little tortie job who was, I'm almost certain, my auntie or something, who used to hunt sheep. I've seen it myself, in the wild as it were, two or more cats will get together and stalk the newborn lambs. It's quite good sport, so I believe.

I wonder what her next door would think if I told her that? Ah well, she's young, I suppose and doesn't yet understand that there is nothing in the world that hasn't been done before.

I remember my first mouse. It was a fat little thing and not very fast on it's feet but oh my goodness, it tasted so good. That's my job round here, I kill vermin. sometimes I eat them, sometimes I leave them lying around so that she who must be obeyed can find them and know that I'm 'at me work' as the song says, sometimes I do both, especially if they're a bit high. Normally, unless it's a bird, when swmbo sees me with a kill, she'll say good man.

Aug 11th

Aug 11th

Oh I laughed till I cried! Feeble met her first spiny person last night  and it frightened her. Ah bless.

The elderly lady dog who used to live here once tried to eat one of the spiny people. At least Feeble isn't that daft. I told her that the spiny people have only three real enemies in the world; cars who like to squash them just for fun, badger folk who have powerful big claws and can rip them apart and eat the juicey bits and, so ledgend has it, gipsey folk who cover them in clay and cook them, presumably to eat the juicey bits. I have powerful claws but I wouldn't tackle a spiny person.