Monthly Archives: March 2014

Hoot Of A Friend

Lounging in the garden.

Lounging in the garden.








I’ve hung out with other moggies/kitties, Pippy, the ringtail possum and even a homeless, woofer, Snout. Never would I have thought that I’d be friends with a feathered puffball—mmm… usually a tasty treat—but Otis, a tawny frogmouth is different.

Feathered balls can be annoying too—like The General, Leader of the Myna Birds, who I’ve been trying to chomp and de-puff since he and others dive-bomb me when I’m outside, see (Assault On The Furball).

Otis is almost my size. Like me, she is a hunter and has a killer beak, savouring crawly things and the odd mouse. I’d thought she’d be hostile, after I’d killed so many of her relatives—only smaller species, but she’s smart as, been around and knows the territory. Otis can spot an insect when she’s way up high on a tree branch, but she’s a bit rough around the feathers grooming wise though.

She perches on top of the big post, where the human hangs out things, splattering droppings on the path—at least I bury mine.

The human came out looking for me and stopped suddenly when she spied Otis. Otis wasn’t scared, sensing the human was a good egg and cocked her head. Slowly, the human crouched down and started talking to her. I was close-by, with my belly on the grass.

The human later told a friend how she had her own ‘owl and pussycat’. Please… Otis is an owlette and I’m a moggie. Humans are stupid sometimes.


P.S. The human couldn’t take a snap of Otis in the dark.


Favourite Toys and Fun Things

Playing with balls.

Playing with bouncy balls.








As a youngster, my favourite toy was a stuffed cheetah. I would clutch it in a headlock between my front paws, while chewing the head and kicking the body at the same time—a Smudge manoeuvre. The head was wobbly and came off heaps of times, so the human sewed it back.

I loved my toy mice, but soon their tails and ears would disappear after lots of pounces and grapples.

One day, the human came home with some small, bouncy rubber balls… Even now, they are my favourite things to bat, swipe, kick or juggle with. When she throws them to me, I’ll swipe back, sending them flying. They land under the cabinet or between the table and chairs. It’s hilarious watching the human crouch on all fours finding them—playing fetch.

If I’m outside at night, she doesn’t like me staying out too long. So for fun, I’ll whack the wire door. Hey pronto the human appears, but I scoot off, darting under a bush.

She stumbles outside, holding up her big mitts, touching the plants. I’ve told you before that the human is dumb and can’t see well in the dark. When she spots me—the moonlight shines off my white coat—she bends down and tries to pick me up, but I bunny hop off and hide under another bushy spot. A few more hops, then she goes inside. I’m left miaowing, ‘Hey let me in.’ After awhile, she opens the door and I’m ready to play.


Snuggling on the human cushion.

Snuggling on the human cushion.