Tiny Tammy

I'm tiny Tammy. I saw what happened to the others, I'm keeping this sweater on till I'm sure the cat-shaving lady is gone!

I've been at Chatopia for a few months now, and this place is always changing. Cats come and go, ornaments move around, we even had hamsters last week! They found homes straight away, but I'm staying for a while longer.

The past week has been hectic. Espoir came back - she missed us all so much and she's delighted to be 'home' (even if it did mean getting shaved as well). Then there was the ceiling in room 1. I was taking a sip from our water fountain when I heard a crash and Little John screamed like a kitten. It had rained so much for 2 days straight that part of the ceiling in his room collapsed. No-one was hurt, they just got a shock. When the volunteers came in they moved them to another room and cleared it all up. It smelt funny.

Speaking of which, I've earned the unfortunate nickname 'The Little Smeller' because of a little poop-issue I've been having. I just love sneaking into the bathroom and pooping in the tub - you should see the volunteers faces when they find it! (And wow, does it stink!) Sometimes the poop gets stuck in my fur, this is the reason I got my butt shaved.
I'm so tiny the volunteers can overpower me easily, so I can't stop them from grooming me and giving me baths when I smell.

It's a hard life being so little!

I better go before Lucy wakes up and catches me blogging - bye!

The INDIGNITY!!

I'm so furious I could spit.
I'm almost too disgusted to blog.

Humans! Eargh! Just when you think you can trust them they do something so terrible, so heinous, so utterly humiliating that you can only dream of dying and being reborn as a massive Sumatran Tiger so that you can smash into their bedroom at night and eat them alive like crunchy mice.

This particular human, I curse her! She came in on Friday, disguising herself as being some kind of cat-worshipper: stroking us and cooing. Then she pinned Frosty, aka 'Hummer', down on a table and shaved him bald.

I laughed at him of course. He said it felt wonderful and followed the volunteers around all weekend thanking them and asking for them to rub his fuzzy butt. I mocked him and told him he looked like a drowned dog.
Would I have mocked him had I known what cruel, evil fate the volunteers had in store for their Queen?



It started with Kyana.


I watched her from my perch, snorting into my paw with laughter.
What a fool I was!

No sooner had they stripped her smelly fur off, when they came calling for me - oh, I thought, you have come to worship my wonderous gorgeousness? But no! They placed me on the table and that dreadful woman tortured me for 40 whole minutes!










The inhumanity! This is no way to treat royalty!


When she'd finished I couldn't even smell myself any more, I was cold and humiliated. She released me and I furiously swiped at the volunteers to let them know who was boss again.

I sit now in the silence of Chatopia, empty of those dasterdly humans, and groom my poor, shaven skin.
My lustrous locks are gone! What cat should have to endure such a thing? Not me. I admit I was a little too warm before, but nothing I couldn't handle. There was no need to go this far.

It's also true, I can move a lot easier now, but that's neither here nor there.

I guess smell a bit better too.... and I feel quite comfortable without those matted armpits...


I wish the volunteers were here to pet me...

Au Revoir, Espoir

We lost another of our old timers today: Espoir has been one of the more tolerable of fellow Chatopiites, in fact I kind of liked her. She was always shy and kept to herself - I respect that in a cat.
But alas! She found a new home, and I wish her well. If only... well, my time shall come.

Obviously no human worthy of my wonderousness exists at present, so I will content myself with life as Queen of Chatopia.

Speaking of royalty, what is this I keep seeing on the news websites about a 'Royal Wedding'? Who are these William and Kate people? They can't be very important, I've never even heard of them, yet people across Canada are making such a fuss about their engagement.

Pah.

All that media coverage about some foreigners, and yet here in Montreal they have a far more important, true Canadian Royal: Moi, Queen Lucy-Poozy. Unlike them, I am the rightful ruler of a vast swathe of this country - from the door downstairs all the way to the corner of Room 3 - that's as far as the eye can see!

My Queendom has been quiet this week, except for a lot of boxes arriving and being moved around. 'Donations' the volunteers call them, a nuisance is what I call them. A couple of cats came and went, but not much else to report. Anyway, I'm off to do my rounds. I've started walking the perimeter of my territory regularly, saying hello to my subjects, making sure things are where I left them.
You never know when some pesky volunteer will have moved something ...