Friday 29th August - by Gemini and Pickford
Gemini: Pssssst! Pickford... can you smell that?
Pickford: Eh? Errr... hold on... crumbs, yeah! That smells like fish that does!
Gemini: It most certainly is fish, and not just any old fish either. If I'm not mistaken (and I rarely am), that's Chip-Shop-Fish. Cod I'd say. Or Plaice. No, definitely cod. I'm going to investigate. ('Kerr-thudddd!' Gemini jumps off her corner of the bed and trots downstairs to the kitchen).
Pickford: Hey wait... hold on! I'm coming too... don't eat it all... save some for me! ('Kerr-thudddd!' Pickford jumps off his corner of the bed and follows Gemini).
Gemini: Right, listen up Pickford, here's how we play it. Don't get too pushy alright, just let them start eating. No miaowing or anything, not yet anyway, I'll give you a signal if we need to do miaowing. Just stare at them for now OK?
Pickford: Well... OK, if you're sure this'll work. I like Chip-Shop fish I do. Only... how long to we stare at em' for? And what if we stare at 'em and they ignore us, and carry on and eat it all anyway, what then?
Gemini: Don't worry Pickford, I've done this loads of times, they won't eat it all, trust me. The best way is to stare at every mouthful they take, so follow the fork with your eyes. Look - like this - just watch me and copy it. (Gemini stares wide-eyed at the fish-on-the-fork: up... down... up... down)
Pickford: OK, got it, I can do that. (Pickford stares at the fish-on-the-fork too: up... down... up... down)
(5 minutes later) - Gemini: Not long now Pickford, you watch, one of them will crack in a minute. They can't keep this up for much longer. Just keep staring. Any moment now, I can feel it... that fish will be ours, all ours... just keep staring...
Pickford: They're not cracking! Look - the fish is nearly half gone! I'll 'ave to miaow in a minute, I can't stand it!
Gemini: Shhh! No, not yet! Any second now... keep staring... come on... there! Done it! Here comes the fish! Told you so!
Gemini and Pickford tuck smugly into generous helpings of Chip-Shop-Fish, proving once again that humans are powerless against the sheer intensity of a determined cat-staring campaign.
Tuesday 26th August - by Gemini
Honestly! Why is everyone so interested in my bottom! Yesterday morning, our human of the female variety kept insisting on turning me round to inspect my rear end, and by this morning both the folks were at it, trying to decide if it looked different to normal. Have they really nothing better to do? I can look after my own bottom thank you, I've managed to take care of it for the last thirteen years without anyone else's help, so I really don't wish to start now. Trouble is, the folks didn't see it that way, and having decided that yes, my bottom did look different to normal, they whisked me off to the vets this afternoon... so that he could inspect my posterior too. It's the indignity of it all that gets me, and all because my, ummm... 'output' has been a little less solid than usual over the weekend (yes they've been inspecting my litter tray too, it appears that nothing is sacred). Oh yes - and I'd just like to say at this point, for the benefit of any vets reading this - when one has had a sore rear end for a couple of days, the last thing one wants is some well-meaning veterinarian to go sticking a thermometer up it! Well that was bad enough as you can imagine, but worse, I have now been prescribed some unspeakable sort of goo to take three times a day - and, worse still, instructions to starve me for a day! Oh, sorry, let me re-phrase that, I am to be 'fasted' for 24 hours. Doesn't sound so bad put like that does it - fasted - but in my opinion it's nothing short of deliberate starvation. Surely there's a law against that? And will everyone stop checking my bottom!
Sunday 24th August - by Pickford
Well I thought I'd seen it all, me, but I ain't never seen nuthin' like this before. Our folks 'ad some visitors today, turned up in a big van they did, well that wasn't nuthin' unusual, it was the people what was unusual, well one of 'em was anyway, she was on wheels! Nah listen, I'm not kiddin', she came up the path on wheels, and then the other person - the one not on wheels - put this ramp thing on our front step, and the lady-on-wheels went up it into our house! I was watchin' from down by the wheelie bins at first, well you would, wouldn't you? Then when she went inside I thought to myself, I thought, 'that don't happen every day', I thought. So then I said to myself, I said "Pickford, go an' 'ave a closer look", I said. Well I'm Pickford the Brave, see, I can do things like that these days. So I went in and there they were, lady-on-wheels and ramp-man sat in our kitchen, chattin' to the folks. Well I didn't know what to do, I mean, I don't go anywhere near the folks when they're on their bikes and they've only got two wheels, and this lady had four! So I watched her from the hall for a bit - at a safe distance like - then, right, she only turned round and started talking to me - and she knew my name and everything! Well, that was OK, and then I saw the wheels... they were pointin' right at me, so I errr, well... you know, as you would... I legged it up the stairs. Now I 'ave to say Gemini has got to be the bravest cat ever. She's only gone straight in there, tail in the air, gettin' fussed by ramp-man and rubbin' 'erself all round those wheels. She's fearless that girl. I'll just 'ave to settle for bein' called 'Pickford the Brave (up to a point)', yeah, that'll do me!
Wednesday 20th August - by Pickford
Poor old Rabbit Man, he wasn't half worried today. His cat went missin', and he's not the sort of cat to go missin'. Rabbit Man hasn't always had a cat see, he used to only 'ave rabbits, but now he's got a cat he doesn't want him to go missin', but he did. He wasn't there for his tea last night, and still wasn't there for his breakfast this mornin', so Rabbit Man got really worried. He came over to see our folks, and they were workin' out what to do and who to ring up and everythin'. So off he went and rang up half the people in the phone book, and then he went and done all these posters and leaflets with his cat's picture on. I 
remember the folks did that for me once when I went on a, umm... 'night out' once (bit over the top I thought, but it's nice to know they care I s'pose). Anyway, it looked like Rabbit Man had done hundreds of these leaflets, so off he goes to stick 'em through doors and on lamp-posts and stuff... well, he didn't get very far, not even halfway up our road in fact... well, there's this nice old lady see, she lives just a few doors up, well Colonel Beau (Sir) used to go in and see her sometimes too... yeah, you guessed it, there was Rabbit Man's cat lookin' like butter wouldn't melt, probably full up with some tasty bit of fish or chicken or somethin', wonderin' what all the fuss was about! So, err...anyone want a couple of hundred spare 'Lost Cat' posters? Oh yeah - here's me and Gemini up on the bed yesterday mornin'. D'you know she doesn't even growl at me when we're up there these days, she's gettin' proper chilled out since she's become a teenager.
Friday 15th August - by Gemini
I don't know for sure where Pickford learned his manners, but I'd hazard a guess that's one thing the late, great Colonel Beau didn't teach him. Even in the early days, Private Pickford had his own set of respectful, know-your-place manners. I suppose his mum probably taught him all those however-many-years-ago, and it's certainly standing him good stead now. Today was a perfect example, I mean how many cats - and please be honest here - how many cats, faced with several chunks of juicy, succulent, perfectly pink and delicious prawn in their bowl, would stand back politely, not making so much as a move towards them, waiting to see if another, ummm... how can I put it... higher ranking cat (in this case me) might want them. Well that's what he did, and that's what he does in fact, quite often. Oh, I wouldn't dream of depriving him of his prawns, well, for a start I have my own prawns, in my own bowl, but it's rather nice to know that he'd let me have his if I wanted! The dear boy waits until I my head disappears into my bowl, nowhere near his, before he even dares start on his own. How sweet is that? I'm not sure I'd have the same restraint if I were the lower ranking cat, well not when it came to prawns anyway. But as it happens I'm not, never have been and never will be. I was born to be top cat you see? I hope that doesn't sound, you know, too snobby or anything, it's just the way it is, it's not my fault - I was just born to be in charge! Beau was quite right when he used to call me 'Field Marshall' Gemini. Mind you the daft old codger never did twig on that's a lot higher than a Colonel!
Saturday 9th August - by Pickford
D'you know what Gemini said to me today? She said I couldn't stay upstairs sleepin' on the bed all day. Well that just goes to show that she doesn't know everythin', cos' I could, and I jolly well did. I sneaked down once to 'ave some biscuits, and then sneaked back up again, but that was all. Well, the thing was... now, I dunno what it was like round your way, but it was rainin' and rainin' and then rainin' some more round here - all day long - so I'd be daft to go out in that wouldn't I? When I was a stray I wouldn't've 'ad a choice see, but now I've got a choice I make the most of it. Well you would, wouldn't you? Gemini said it must be borin' stayin' up on the bed all day, but she's wrong about that too. You just 'ave to be creative that's all. So I 'ad a couple of hours down the bottom end (where the feet are at night), and a couple of hours up the pillow end (where I get me fusses at night), and I checked out all the other interestin' bits of the duvet in between too, and done all me stretchin' out and stuff. It's a big duvet, see, and I'm only little, so I wasn't bored once! I got up when the folks came back though, well they'd got us some new kind of food - posh stuff it was - really smelly and yummy, so that was definitely worth gettin' up for. So... I got to doss round on the bed all day, while the folks went out in the rain to get us two some posh grub. Ain't a bad life, is it?
Monday 4th August - by Gemini and Pickford
Gemini: Listen, Pickford... I hope you don't mind me asking, but what's going on with you and that young tabby whipper-snapper?
Pickford: Goin' on? Nuthin's goin' on. He just comes round to hang out with me that's all. He's harmless, he is.
Gemini: Oh, right. But... what do you do exactly. I mean, what precisely does hanging out involve?
Pickford: Well it don't involve nuthin' much really, that's the whole point. It's just like, you know... when he's got nuthin' better to do, and I've got nuthin' better to do, then he comes round, hangs out, and we both have nuthin' better to do together, that's all. See?
Gemini: I think so... only... that does sound a bit boring. I mean, if I had nothing better to do I'd just go to sleep. That way, at least I could dream about something interesting. But you two - you just seem to sit there. Anyway, do you know where he lives?
Pickford: Nope, no idea. He don't say a lot. He's not a stray though, that's for sure.
Gemini: Well that's true, you can tell he's not a stray. So, what's his name then?
Pickford: Haven't got a clue. he never said.
Gemini: No, and I expect you never thought to ask. So, how old is he?
Pickford: Dunno that either. That's not important though, I mean, I don't really know how old I am do I? Only a rough guess, like. Listen if you're interested in all that stuff about where he lives and what his name is, why don't you come and hang out with us one day?
Gemini: Me? Hang out? Oh I couldn't possibly! I wouldn't know the first thing about 'hanging out'!
Pickford: 'Course you do - it's what we've been doin' out here all mornin'.
Gemini: Have we? Really? Goodness me, who'd have thought!
Friday 1st August - by Gemini
Now I'm not claiming to be an expert on evolution or anything, but I do know that most animal species change gradually over generations to adapt to their needs and environment (actually, that did sound quite expert, didn't it?). Anyway, you know what I mean, like horses growing hooves, or birds learning to fly, that sort of thing. So, you'd have thought after all the thousands of years that us cats have spent slowly but surely domesticating humans that they'd have at least started to develop tougher skin by now, wouldn't you? Particularly I'd say, on the backs of their shoulders, you know, the bit where the Cat-in-Charge's claws dig in when their human picks them up for a fuss. Or, if not tougher skin, they surely must have the technology by now to make T-shirts with thicker bits round the shoulders, mustn't they? You know, to stop them getting claw-holes in all the time. I think I'm right in saying that I've managed to put holes in the shoulders of at least half of our human of the female variety's T-shirts (I did another one today), and that's without really trying. And it's not like I'm digging my claws in at full depth or anything (now that really would hurt), I mean, I like being picked up, and I like being fussed, and carried round, so I only dig them in just a little way... to a friendly, hug-me-squeeze-me, contented-cat sort of depth, that's all. No harm in that, is there? Only to T-shirts I suppose. Well, and shoulders. It's really not my fault that humans still have so much evolving to do. And anyway I didn't even draw blood!
Sunday 27th July - by Pickford
I might just be statin' the obvious 'ere, but crumbs it's hot! It's been hot for days and days now, I love it I do, and Gemini reckons it's goin' to be hot tomorrow and the next day too. Well that's good news for the calico cat from up the road, 'cos it's been too hot for me to bother seein' him off when he comes up on our fence. It's good news for the butterflies too, 'cos it's too hot for Gemini to go chasin' 'em across the garden, pouncin' on 'em and eatin' 'em. Tell you what, it's good news for me half-right arthritis as well, that don't hurt nearly half as much when it's hot. I still get 'jollop' put on me breakfast to help, but it's the hot weather that really does me legs good, so I'm not limpin' so much at the moment. Well, I still limp a bit, but I reckon that makes me look streetwise, so I'm 'appy with a bit of a limp. My little admirer came round today and sat in the sun with me. He's alright he is. He's only a young 'un, another tabby as it goes, he's no bother like, just comes round and, you know... hangs out. He's got his own home somewhere around here mind, I mean I wouldn't let him come round here hangin' out if he was reckonin' on movin' in, no sirreee! Oh yeah, look at this thing - this is one of the folks' contraptions. It blows out cold air. Yeah that's right, cold air. I dunno, they moan all winter about it bein' cold and then as soon as it's nice 'n warm they get a contraption that blows out cold air! D'you understand that? Nah, me neither.
Friday 25 July - by Gemini
Ah yes, silly me. I thought it was too good to last. It's been weeks now since anyone's thrown up on the floor, and silly old me thought that maybe, just maybe, everyone had finally learned how not to eat too much. When I say everyone, I am more specifically referring to the furry members of the regiment, err... I mean, household, (to my knowledge, neither of our humans have thrown up on the floor for years). And I'm not referring to me either, I never throw up on the floor (well, only furballs, but they don't count), so I suppose that does only leave Pickford for me to refer to. He and Beau used to throw up from time to time, but I'd always put that down to the 3-2-1 principle, in other words the result of there being 3 food bowls, 2 boy cats and when it came to food, only 1 brain cell between them. So, now that the days of Beau-Throw vs. Picks-Sick are in the past, I thought perhaps, finally we'd have nice civilised mealtimes where everyone just ate their own dinner, and then the food stayed put doing whatever food does, but I was wrong. Pickford finished off the remainder of my dinner as well as all of his own today, and then... halfway up the hall... well - out it came again to say hello (looking much the same as it had before it was eaten). Totally gross of course, but even worse - what a waste!
Saturday 19th July - by Pickford & Gemini
Pickford: 'Ere Gemini... what's a Sundial?
Gemini: A Sundial... well... it's like a, umm, sort of a... thing. A thing in the sun. With a dial. Yes, that's it, oh - and it tells the time!
Pickford: Tells the time? Crumbs. OK, thanks. I think. And... it doesn't have any fur then, this Sundial?
Gemini: Fur? No I'm quite sure it doesn't have fur. I've not actually seen one, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't have any fur. (thinks: He's been at the catnip again)
(Pickford looks puzzled, eats some biscuits, has a wash, then carries on looking puzzled.)
Pickford: That don't make any sense then. If a sundial doesn't have fur, then how come the folks reckon they could use me as a sundial? And I can't tell the time neither. Well, I mean, I can tell when it's breakfast time (my belly tells me that), and I know when it's coley or chicken time (my nose tells me that), but I can't tell proper time. Anyway, the folks said they could use me as a sundial when I go lazin' out the front all day, like today, movin' round when the sun moves round. What d'you make of that?
Gemini: Oh I get it! It's your tail! I've seen you stretched out the front in the sun, and you do switch positions with the sun, so... it's your tail that's the sundial. Let me see... if your tail points to the gate it's about, errr... roughly 9 o'clock in the morning, and by the time it points to the wheelie bins it'll be about 7 o'clock in the evening - that's quite ingenious that!
Pickford: You mean... my tail can tell the time? Blimey, I'm impressed, my tail's smarter than me!
Thursday 17th July - by Gemini
I shall always be grateful to the late Colonel Beau for teaching me how to drink out of the bath tap, and I'm sure he'd be terribly impressed with my progress too. I practise every morning without fail, and my technique is getting better and better, (even if I do say so myself). Part of the trick is getting the folks trained of course, so now they're fully up to speed with my 'tap on' and 'tap off' requirements I've been able to take my bathtime to a new level. Oh yes indeed, I have discovered that a bath's usefulness doesn't stop at the taps! Did you know they are great for sleeping in too? I found this out purely by chance - well, I'd finished drinking, and the folks hadn't done 'tap off' duty yet, so I thought I'd just lay down for a bit and study the water going down the plug-hole (as you would, surely?). Fascinating it is. I think it would be a good cure for insomnia too (not that any cat ever suffered from that!), I only managed to watch it for about ten purrs or so and that was it, I was fast asleep! So I've had a snooze in the bath three or four times over this last week - no doubt the folks will photograph me in there sooner or later, I know what they're like. Still in the absence of a Gemini-looks-gorgeous-in-the-bath shot, this is one they took earlier of two-tabbies-on-the-patio-steps, (taken from an upstairs window you'll notice). You see - we're not safe from prying camera lenses no matter where we are. Honestly, our folks are worse than the tabloid paperazzi. At least with the paperazzi we'd get a fee! (5 prawns each for this one I'd say, plus royalties).
Sunday 13th July - by Gemini and Pickford
Gemini: Hey... listen... Pickford... did you hear that? Footsteps on the path... I think maybe... I reckon... yes it is! The folks are back!
Pickford: Yeah? That's good then. We knew they'd be back sometime though, didn't we?
Gemini: Well, yes of course we did. But they're here right now! So... come on then... aren't you going to come downstairs to say hello, and get a fuss?
Pickford: Nah, not right now if that's OK, I'm all comfy here. They'll come and find me when they're ready won't they, I'll get a fuss then. You go down if you want.
Gemini: Oh. Right. Yes, well I'd better go then. I mean, I don't want to keep them waiting, they've been away all weekend after all, they'll be expecting some sort of a welcoming committee. Are you sure you won't... no, obviously not. (Gemini trots downstairs, forms a welcoming committee of one and gets a fuss).
Later that evening:
Gemini: Pickford! Goodness me, are you still here lazing on the bed!? Have you seen the folks? Did they have to come and find you? Did you get a fuss yet? Honestly, I still can't believe you just stayed up here when our folks came back from who-knows-where, anyone would think you didn't care whether they came back or not!
Pickford: Ummm, OK I think I can just about remember all that... Yes, I'm still here lazin' on the bed, yes I saw the folks, yes they had to come and find me and yes I did get a fuss. And yes I do care. So, what's the problem?
Gemini: Err, well, no problem exactly. I just think, well... oh I don't know, you just play it so cool sometimes!
Pickford: Me? Cool? Am I really? That's good, I never knew I could be cool. I was just bein' Pickford. I reckon if stayin' on the bed when you're comfy makes you cool then I can do that!
Wednesday 9th July - by Pickford
'Ere that's not right! That's not right at all. Gemini sayin' she's better at 'da Bird' than me, and it's not true! I learned off the Colonel, I did, and he was the best. Now I'm not sayin' I'm as good at it as he was, but I go higher'n Gemini, and I can swipe faster too, yeah, well I know you can't see how fast I swipe in photos, but believe me it's fast! Faster'n the speed of light, or Champion the Wonder Horse even. Anyhow, a really weird thing happened today, there I was sittin' inside by Gemini's sunbathing window (there wasn't any sun, so she wasn't there), and then right, then this pigeon starts tappin' on the glass! Straight up it did, 'tap-tap-tap... tap-tap-tap' like that with it's little Pigeony beak, like it wanted to come indoors or somethin'. Now if I'd been on the pigeon's side of the glass I s'pose I'd have had to catch him, well it would've been expected see, but I wasn't so I didn't (lucky for him). So after a bit the folks went out to see what he'd do, well you'd think he'd fly away really wouldn't you? Well he didn't, he just carried on tappin', and that's when they saw he had a ring on his leg, (yeah, one of those posh pigeons). Turned out he was one of Pigeon-Man's pigeons, and he'd got a bit lost and flown into the wrong garden. His folks had to come round with a box and get him. So, here's the thing right... he's what they call a homing pigeon, and they told us he'd flown miles to get home from who-knows-where. So... pardon me if I'm bein' dense or somethin', but how come he couldn't find his way back over the fence then?
Saturday 5th July - by Gemini
Anyone within earshot of Cat Chat Towers recently might be thinking that our folks have acquired a baby from somewhere, either that or they've been trying to strangle one of us cats, both equally unlikely prospects, and thankfully both equally untrue. The truth is, that's just what Pickford's miaows sound like these days - a sort of strangulated wailing, and it's most definitely louder! He's got a long way to go to achieve Beau's number-eleven-volume miaows but he's already surpassed him in strangeness of miaow, that's for sure. I remember when Pickford first came here, you wouldn't hear so much as a peep out of him, then when he got braver he started squeaking a bit, but it was a while before he did proper miaows. I suppose he's just got better at it over the years, but his current noise is not to my liking at all, I think I'd rather have number-eleven miaows than his griping-baby-strangled-cat sound effects. Oh well, at least he shuts up when he's attacking 'da Bird', which we both did today. Great it was, outside too, normally we attack that indoors, but it's much more realistic outside. We're both pretty good at it too, well I'm slightly better of course, mind you, seeing as I'm a girl that goes without saying really (notice how I can attack with my front end, and yet still leave my back end relaxing? That's multi-tasking at it's best). Oh yes - memo to folks: Please note, this is the last feather attachment we have for this thing, it needs to go on the shopping list, alongside 'coley for cats', 'chicken for cats' and 'prawns for cats', (I'm good at shopping lists too!).
Wednesday 2nd July - by Pickford
OK, yeah, that's it, that's the one - right there! Today was the first sign. The first sign that things are starting to get sort-of back to normal-ish after losin' Colonel Beau (Sir). What it was, see Gemini growled at me! I dunno if she stopped her normal growling recently 'cos of the house bein' so quiet, or if it was out of a bit o' respect, or maybe it's just 'cos she's got one less cat to growl at, but whatever the reason is, it didn't feel right with her not growlin'. Now that might sound a bit odd to some people, but you know where you are with the Lady Gemini when she's havin' a moan about somethin'. When she 's bein' all easy-going and nice and stuff, well it's just worryin' that's what that is. So she was sat on one of the patio chairs this mornin' and I 'appened to walk right underneath it (well, I wasn't lookin' up, I didn't see 'er did I?), so I'm right in her comfort zone, so I got growled at, well that's fair enough, innit? I feel 'appier now. Mind you things still ain't back to proper normal yet, if things were back to proper normal she'd 'ave given me a biff round the ear too!
Saturday, June 28th - by Gemini
As if we didn't have enough noisy machines in this house already (the vacuum cleaner, lawn mower and hairdryer being the worst), some well-meaning 'friends' have given the folks a paper shredder! What a racket it makes, honestly, it's no wonder they were giving it away, so now we have to put up with the thing. Curious timing too, I mean, paper-shredding was always one of Colonel Beau's jobs, and it's true that neither me nor Pickford can shred things anywhere near as thoroughly as he used to, but to bring this ugly, noisy, plastic monstrosity in to do the job, well, frankly, things would be better left un-shredded in my opinion. Oh it might shred things all nice and efficiently into tiny thin strips, but where's the fun or skill in that? At least Beau could shred things in interesting ways, the local paper being a speciality - sometimes he'd start with the headlines, and sometimes he'd scrabble his way inside and start with the classifieds or the sport, and sometimes he'd shred something entirely different - pizza leaflets, magazines, phone bills, even the odd paperback. Well I'm sorry, but this shredding machine is just far too predictable and boring, it only shreds what it's given for a start, the useless thing has no initiative whatsoever. I may have moaned about the old codger from time to time, but I will credit Beau with having plenty of initiative! So, while the ugly, boring, predictable, plastic shredder was doing it's noisy best today, I sensibly retreated outside to look gorgeous in the sun instead. ...this? Oh, this is my house-brick of course. It retains the heat you see. Surely every truly smart cat has their own house-brick?
Monday 23rd June - by Gemini
You wouldn't think, would you, that a lump of white fur with a cat inside could make such a huge difference to a house, just by not being there. It does though, and it has, and now Colonel Beau's not here everything has changed. The folks think I'm not bothered just because I haven't being going in and out, wandering round like a lost soul, like Pickford has, but that's not true. I've just been missing him in different ways, that's all. I'm missing him hoovering up my left-overs, I'm missing him miaowing twenty times a day for... well, I'm not sure what for really, and I'm missing his 'Ker-thuummppp!' when he used to jump off the kitchen table, and... oh I don't know, he's just left a great big, Colonel sized hole here, and it feels wrong! And how the folks are ever going to get up in the mornings without Beau is anyone's guess. He was such a reliable alarm clock, same time every day - his morning 'Reveille Miaow' had an error margin of only five minutes either way (and no batteries required). The folks buried him this afternoon, in one of his favourite sunny weed-borders together with the most recent feather-attachment from 'da Bird' toy, which he played with (or should I say attacked in full-on combat sessions) pretty much until the end. The strangest thing is that over the last three-and-a-half years we've all quite willingly, me included, become Beau's 'regiment'. We all go 'on patrol' now instead of just having a walk, sitting on the windwsill is not just sitting on the windowsill any more, it's most definitely 'guard duty', and I don't think I will ever just simply relax again, I'll always think of myself as being 'at ease'. I wonder if they ever go 'on manoeuvres' at Rainbow Bridge? If not, I bet they will do now!
Cheerio Beau mate, you were quite special you know.
Sunday 22nd June - by Private Pickford
I never thought I'd 'ave to write somethin' like this on the diary. Dunno what to say first really, I'm no good at this sort of thing. It's like this see... last night, well, early this mornin' really, Colonel Beau (Sir) got took off to the vets. I thought somethin' was up, I mean, you don't normally go to the vets at 1 o'clock in the mornin' do you? He'd been breathin' a bit funny earlier on, and hadn't eaten his supper, and well.... listen, I'm just goin' to ave to say it straight out. The thing is, right... Colonel Beau, my housemate, best mate and all round good bloke went to the Rainbow Bridge this mornin'. He knew it was his time to go o'course, only humans need a bit more convincin' don't they? So they done all the bit, you know, blood tests, x-rays, even had him in an oxygen tent for a bit, but when you gotta go, you gotta go, ain't you? The folks are really upset. I went up and done me best force-ten headbutts and top volume purrs but it didn't seem to help 'em much. I'll try again later. I ain't half goin' to miss him. He was my bezzie mate he was, and I never had one of them before. I think Gemini's missing him too in her own way, she's gone all funny-quiet since he went. Maybe she liked him a bit more than she let on, I dunno. The vet said he'd been on 'borrowed time' for a while, shame he couldn't have borrowed a bit more, I'm sure no-one would've minded, but there you go. Fourteen years ain't bad I s'pose.
"Cheers, Colonel Beau (Sir), I'm proud to have been in your regiment". I'm not sure how you're supposed to say goodbye to a mate like that. Reckon I'll just stick some of his best photos on (above) and say what the great Colonel himself would've said: "Toodle Pip, old boy!".
R.I.P. Colonel Beau (Sir): 1994 (approx) - 2008
Tuesday 17th June - by Colonel Beau
Today I detected that we have an unauthorised 'Thing' living in the ivy on our fence. However, despite my years of experience out in the field and my frankly above average intelligence, I have to admit to not knowing what it is. I'm not even sure at this stage of my investigations whether it is just a Thing or several Things, but whatever he, she, it or they is or are, Yours Truly will be ready waiting to pounce as soon as they show the whites of their eyes! All the evidence I have to go on so far is lots of leaf-rustling, bally annoying it is. There I was on Red Alert, stationed right beneath the little blighter(s) for the best part of an hour and a half today with not so much as a glimpse. I had to admit defeat in the end and leave my post, well there was chicken on the old luncheon menu today and even Colonels can't pass that up on account of unidentified rustling Things, (an army marches on it's stomach, and all that). Yes, well, they needn't think they've got the better of me yet, not a bit of it. I don't give up that easily you know, oh no I shall be back in position tomorrow just waiting for any sign of a feather, a foot, a claw, a beak, a wing or whatever. Ready and waiting I shall be, to spring into action... well... provided it's sunny of course.
Thursday 12th June - by Pickford
When I first came 'ere after bein' a stray I didn't know nuthin' about etiquette. These days, not only do I know about it, I'm gettin' quite good at it too. There's your basic etiquette, see, like lettin' Gemini have the first prawn and gettin' off a lap if she wants it, (I learned them ones really early on), but now I can even do complicated stuff like up-on-the-folks-bed etiquette. Here's how it works: I can stay on the bed while Colonel Beau's up there, providin' I'm at least one-cats-length away, but if he gets off first, I have to get off too. But if I get off first he can stay up there, but that's 'cos he's a Colonel and I'm not. Now, it's different when Gemini comes up there, if I was there first I'm allowed to stay, providin' I'm at least two-cats-lengths away, but not if Colonel Beau's there too - I have to get off then (under the 2-cats-max rule). Anyway, if I'm up there with Gemini and she gets off first, I don't have to follow (not like if it was the Colonel), and if I get off first, she doesn't have to follow me off either (in fact Gemini never has to follow anyone if she doesn't want), but if Beau and Gemini are up there and she gets off first he has to follow (even though he's a Colonel). Now sometimes Gemini wants to come up there when me and Beau are already there, but she can't of course ('cos of the 2-cats-max rule), but she can get round that by doin' her evil-eye thing. If she gives the Colonel the evil-eye and he gets off, then I have to follow (so she gets it all to herself then), but if she gives me the evil-eye and I get off, then the Colonel can stay, providing he's at least two cats lengths away. Well that works most of the time, only sometimes Beau forgets about the two-cats-length rule and Gemini has to jog his memory by boxing him round the ear. I wonder how you get round the 2-cats-max rule if you have more than three cats though? I s'pose you'd just 'ave to get more beds.
Sunday 8th June - by Gemini and Pickford
Pickford: 'Ere Gemini, what's with the birthday balloons on the front page? It says we're eight. Well I'm not eight and I didn't think Colonel Beau (Sir) or you were eight either. I thought we were all much older than that!
Gemini: Well, thank you very much for pointing that little fact out Pickford, but yes, you're right, it's not any of us who are eight, it's Cat Chat that's eight... you know, the whole Cat Chat thing. So I suppose you could say it's the Charity's birthday.
Pickford: Err.... yeah, OK, sure. The Charity's birthday. That's a bit weird though, innit? I mean, what d'you get a Charity for it's birthday? And how does it know its havin' a birthday? And if it did know, would it care? And what's the point of...
Gemini: ...Pickford! Will you stop asking stupid questions! All I know is that it was eight years ago today that Cat Chat started, and that's why the balloons, and that's why we all got coley fish for lunch today too.
Pickford: Oh right, 'nuff said! If havin' a birthday means we all get coley fish, then I'm all for it. Long live birthdays, I say! Yeah, that's what I want for my birthday, that is. Coley fish I mean, not balloons. 'Cept I dunno when my birthday is, so that's not fair. How can I get birthday coley if no-one knows when it is?
Gemini: Oh, don't worry Pickford, the folks'll just take a guess, then it'll be more of a surprise when we get it, see?
Pickford: Yeah... yeah, I s'pose. I hope they guess at tomorrow. I don't mind gettin' a year older if I get coley two days on the trot!
Friday 6th June - by Colonel Beau
I have been duped! Duped, fooled and lead up the garden path by the human members of my own regiment! There was I thinking they were following the official procedure, by obtaining prior approval from Yours Truly to upgrade the standard of food on the base, but that wasn't the case at all. Oh I was consulted alright, I can't deny that, just that I wasn't given the facts, let alone the whole facts, and certainly not 'nothing but the facts', in fact. Oh no, not a bit of it. I foolishly thought that my authorisation for a 'new menu' might result in an increased frequency of chicken, or extra coley-days perhaps. I had visions of prawns-on-demand, or at the very least a few more of those 'special' tins, and less of the common-or-garden rations we have to put up with most days. Well we got our new menu alright... on the bally website! Yes, look - up there - top of the page... see? All along they meant a new website menu and nothing remotely connected to the kitchen, or my stomach. So they've spent the last few days fiddling round with this bally nonsense, when they could have been dishing up more coley. Well what's the point of that, eh? You can't eat website menus! And do they look much different to you? No, me neither. What a waste of jolly time. See that photo there? Know what that is? That's a thoroughly Duped Colonel, that's what that is. Hrrmph!
Friday 30th May - by Pickford
I was s'posed to go to the vets a few weeks ago, when Gemini went, (only I was somewhere else), well, I made up for it today. Y'know I reckon our folks could write a book on how to trick cats into cat-boxes. They done three tricks to get me in mine today! The first trick was waitin' til me and Colonel Beau (Sir) was out the front, then they bring the cat-box in through the back, all quiet like, and hide it. Then they done the trick where one of 'em comes out and fusses us both, like there's nothin' goin' on, then they go back in again, so it still seems like nothin's goin' on. Then - and here's the really clever trick - they leave the door open a bit and make cat-food-cupboard, biscuit-box and food-bowl noises. just loud enough for us to hear. So naturally me and the Colonel both nipped in for a bit of grub, like you would. Only just when I'm going to tuck into me biscuits, Whooosh! up I go into a cat-box. It's the Treble-Trick y' see, I didn't stand a chance! So anyhow, I saw my favourite vet, she loves me, she does. She checked me mouth and me ears and all round me belly (no more lumps), listened to me insides and said I had a good heart and lungs, then she gave me a pill (stops you gettin' wigglies), and an injection (not sure what that stops you gettin'), then she had a good prod round me lumpy-leg and told me I was good to go. Oh yeah - nearly forgot - she stuck me on the scales too, reckons I've put on point-two-of-a-kilo since last time, and said I could do with losin' a bit for next time. That's not fair though, is it? Our human of the female variety says you should only ever weigh yourself first thing in the morning, well this was nearly teatime, so I'd had breakfast and lunch already. Well that's your point-two-of-a-kilo, right there!
Tuesday 27th May - by Gemini, Colonel Beau and Pickford
Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek. Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek.
Gemini: Beau... can you hear that strange squeaking noise?
Beau: Now that you mention it old girl, yes, yes I can. Mighty curious eh what? Do you suppose we have mice?
(Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek. Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek.)
Gemini: Mice? No that's not a mouse-squeak, that's, well, I don't know what it is. Sounds like it's coming from out in the hallway though. Couldn't you, you know... go on reconnaissance, or mount an investigation or something?
Beau: An investigation! Of course, why didn't I think of that! I shall do that very thing forthwith! Hrrmph. Right-ho, here I go then. An investigation. Into the breach! And, umm, over the hill, and forward into battle and all that. Here I come... tally ho! (Beau trots out into the hall)
Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek. Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek.
Beau: Aha! So that's it! I say hullo Pickers old boy, what are you doing out there if you don't mind me asking? Can you hear me through that glass eh, old bean?
(Pickford can't hear, so carries on scraping his wet paws down the wet door. Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek. Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek).
Beau: OK, I get the message. Now just you hold on there a moment m'lad and I'll have that bally door open for you in a trice... Mriaaaaowlll... Mriaaaaowlll... Mriaaaaowlll! Mriaaaaowlll... Mriaaaaowl...Mriaaaaowl! (rough translation: 'I say chaps, open the jolly door would you?')
Pickford's Paws: Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek. Squeeek... Squeeek... Squeeek (rough translation: 'come on, I'm drenched out 'ere!')
Beau: Mriaaaaowl... Mriaaaaowl... Mriaaaaowl! (rough translation: 'Door - Open - Now - and that's an Order!')
(Finally the human cat-servant of the male variety opens the door to a very soggy Pickford).
Pickford: Cheers Beau! Err, I mean thanks Colonel, Sir. Yeah, nice one!
Beau: Don't mention it old chap, what's a good Colonel for if not to issue orders to the human troops! (note to folks: less of the camera-shake next time eh?)
Sunday 18th May - by Colonel Beau
It's just as jolly well I'm on the ball, you know. On the ball and with my wits about me, in fact. I'm quite sure nothing of any importance would get done around here if it wasn't for my organisation, initiative and downright efficiency. Like changing the telephone batteries for a start. Small, but highly necessary little blighters I gather. I can't change them myself of course (due to a natural defecit in the opposing thumbs department), but what I most certainly can do is remind the human members of the regiment to change them. And so I did just that, at precisely 0-six-hundred-hours this morning, using the old tried and trusted heave-ho technique. In this case, that meant 'heave-ho-ing' the phones off the kitchen table, with such precision so as to knock the little plastic covers off the back and propel the batteries out across the floor, (and I achieved this effortlessly I have to say). Now our folks aren't noted for their usefulness at 6am on a Sunday, but the resultant crash-bang-clatter of my endeavours got their attention this morning and no mistake! Naturally I took the opportunity to insist on a spot of earlier-than-normal breakfast, (well let's face it, they were up and about anyway, might as well get these bally humans multi-tasking when the chance arises, eh what?) ... Sorry?... what was that, Gemini old Bean? Did the batteries need changing? Oh, well, no, as it goes they didn't, but that's not the point, they needed checking, and those human types need motivating you see, yes, that's what. And Yours Truly's just the man for the job!
Friday 16th May - by Gemini
I did it!
I did it! I did it! I've been in that bath every morning for the last three weeks, and today I finally worked out how to drink from the tap - without getting my paws wet! They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, well I'm pleased to say that doesn't apply to cats (not that nearly-13 is old, of course, far from it). I'll admit Beau's instructions helped a bit, but I'm sure I'd have worked it out by myself eventually. Now I can go back to drinking in normal places. Oh, I never actually wanted to drink out of the bath tap, it was just that Beau can (and does), so I wanted to be able to, that's all. Hey Beau... see? I did it!
Wednesday 14th May - by Colonel Beau and Gemini
Beau: I must say it's jolly decent of the folks to leave their buttered bread out for me. They must know I'm rather partial to the stuff. Four whole slices worth they left out for me tonight too, most acceptable!
Gemini: Err, actually Beau... I don't think that was meant for you at all. I might be wrong, but I think it was meant to be part of their sandwich supper, and quite an important part too.
Beau: Not meant for me? Of course it was meant for me! It was up on the kitchen worktop, all nicely laid out for me on that bally bread of theirs. Conveniently displayed on plates too, just perfect for Yours Truly's well deserved supper. 'A nice bit of butter for the Colonel', that's what they'll have said.
Gemini: Well I'm sure they wouldn't begrudge you a little bit of butter if you wanted it, but they did have to re-do their sandwiches after. And if you want to get technical, it wasn't actually real butter anyway.
Beau: What's that old girl? Not real butter? Preposterous! Of course it was real butter. I'll have you know I've had years of experience in the field of butter detection, recognition and digestion. Not butter indeed!
Gemini: It really wasn't Beau, honestly, it just looked like it, I saw the tub.
Beau: Hrrmph! No, I'm sorry old bean, I don't know what jolly tub you saw, but I can't believe that wasn't butter!
Gemini: (thinks: this is getting dangerously close to inadvertant advertising). OK Beau, yes, look I think you're pretty much right there. Almost spot on in fact.
Beau: There! Told you so! Trust me, the Colonel always knows best!
Thursday 8th May - by Gemini
Well it's official! I, Gemini Cat, Lady of the house, me, Top Tabby, Founding Feline of Cat Chat and honorary Trustee, 'Marm Gemini' to some, 'Sweet Thing' to others, nearly thirteen years young, officially have beautiful teeth! I already knew that of course, but it makes all the difference when the vet says so too. Pickford's favourite vet it was (the one who sorted out his lumps), only it was little old Me she saw today. It was just routine, you know, a feel round the tummy, a little sit on the scales (no I'm not telling), the usual injection, then a look in my ears, eyes, and mouth... which is when she remarked on my beautiful teeth. A full set in fact, which I am proud to point out, is more than anyone else in this house has. Now... get this... then I had to wait around while they sorted out Pickford's prescription for his arthritis jollop! Oh yes, Pickford should have been there too, only where was he? Somewhere else, that's where. Unavailable for comment he was, and also unavailable to be put in a cat-box and taken down the vets. The folks searched high and low for him, but if Pickford doesn't want to be found then Pickford won't be found. Especially on nice sunny days like today. Typical though - he was waiting for us when we got back! He'll get taken another day though, that's for sure. Then he'll get his tummy felt, and have a sit on the scales, and his injection, and all that. I know one thing though, she won't be remarking on his beautiful teeth. Beautiful tooth maybe, (he does still have one left). He looks just like any normal cat you know, even without teeth, well... until he yawns!
Saturday 3rd May - by Pickford
It's been a funny old week. It changed from bein' winter straight into bein' summer for a start. Just like that it did, no messin' about, just suddenly... 'Bosh!' there you go, summer's 
here. I'm not complainin' though, I like summer, I do, it's me favourite. I can laze around in the sun out the front, or I can laze around in the sun out the back, or I can even mooch down to the pond and laze around in the sun down there if I want. I done all three today, (and I even lazed around in the sun somewhere else for a bit too, only I'm not sayin' any more about that 'cos the folks don't know I go there). Colonel Beau (Sir)'s changed this week too. Instead of sleepin' on his blanky on the spare bed at night, he's started comin' in on the folks bed instead. Now that's odd that is, he's hardly ever done that and now he's up there every night. I don't mind, so long as I still get the in-between-the-folks position (I always get up there first and bagsy me spot). The Colonel likes sleepin' down the feet end anyway, so he's happy. Dunno what the folks think though, there's not much room left for them with us both up there too. Still, I reckon they'll be OK all the time they stay put, and don't do anythin' daft like try to move! Gemini's still been tryin' to work out the bath tap thing, she's been in there every day this week, and she still can't get it right. I have to give her ten out of ten for effort though. Me, I prefer natural, normal, proper water, you know like what you get in dirty old garden buckets, or from the pond, or... the best water of all... puddles! They should make puddle-water come out of taps, that's what I reckon. Anyhow, listen, I gotta go - there's another hour's sun to go out the front, and if I don't go and laze in it, it'll all go to waste!
