Sunday, July 06, 2014

Well, I must say that Newfoundland is much smaller than I had imagined.

After all this talk and a two-nap ride in the car, here we are.

Or rather, here I am, for Fred has left on some errand. Heíll be back soon; he always is.

The area of Newfoundland is about 320 paces by 40 paces, or 80 by 10 per leg. The population is one. Well, two for the time being, and they have toilet trays and food and water bowls identical to those in Ontario.

All in all Iím not too impressed. I certainly wouldnít lay out much money on it, nor spend that much time planning and packing. Still and all, Fred does seem to make a fuss about so many things.

There appears to be plenty of food, as usual. I donít know why he worries so much.

The Newfie might have some answers; Iíll speak up once the music stops.

In the meantime Iíll sleep on it.


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I think the sign above says ďNewfoundlandĒ.

Otherwise Iíll just have to take Fredís word for it.

Heís never lied to me before.

I had a very short nap; when I woke up he was still not here.

The music plays on.

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There is a bit of reading material. German and the FIFA cup, which is distinct from FiFiís cups. Just My Luck!

The other two cats are taciturn; the one on the right is LOADED with money.

I will have to make it clear that Iím not cooking while Iím on holiday.

Unless the apron signifies something else (Loud Thud as Rio faints ...)

Later Still

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Fred will be back any minute now; heís left behind my birthday card and presents to him; heís probably gone out to buy some more meat treat.

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I have been thinking of taking a course in arithmetic for some years now, and have made a start by trying to count my toys. I have two, I think.

Iíd love to get in touch with a real mathematician!

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I had to put Newfie in his place just now. I was guarding my two toys and he wanted to step right over me, so I hissed at him.

He sang a little song to me in reply. This is a shot of me looking, acting, and being surprised.

Well, it always worked for me in the past.

I have come to the conclusion that Newfie is stupid.


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Just for the record, here are my two toys.

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Had a nice nap on the bed. Woke up dreaming I heard Fredís voice from far, far away.

Cat-like I am exercising my will by sleeping on Newfieís pants.

Monday, July 07, 2014

Woke up four minutes ago; didnít see anything special about the time or date, so took a photo of the weather.

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A faint memory of ďtwoĒ is floating around in my head.

IMNSHO Newfoundland looks a lot better on the TV screen at home. Humans are stupid.

Spent most of the night lying on my back on the bench, dreaming I was asleep on the bench in Ontario. Huge crashing noise outside around three; thunderstorm. Much rain. May as well be at Blackpool you ask me.

I have searched the miniscule library here for a copy of Alan Corenís ďGolfing For CatsĒ

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but canít find one. I may have to approach the librarian who is wandering about semi-naked muttering a mantra ďWhere IS my brown coffee mug; I had it yesterday; I know I did; I washed it upĒ.

Donít look at me sport. I donít wash dishes even when Iím NOT on holiday.

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I have decided to look for Newfieís coffee mug; anything to stop the mantra. Here I am perched on one of the few high points of this holiday, scanning the sky for the brown mug for the pink mug.

Iíll be glad when this day is over and Fred comes back with the can of meat treats and we can go home in the boxes.

The ďWhere IS my brown coffee mugĒ mantra ceased round about the time Newfie went to put his oatmeal in the microwave. Bloody mad if you ask me.

I hope heís not constipated; Iím not!


This Newfie is devilish cunning: Fred brought with him a tube of Polysporin; Fred says I scratch sometimes when petted.

Newfie is using an unfair strategy Ė he pets me only when I am standing four-footed on the ground and canít reach him with my claws without giving sign.

Throughout the day I am testing out this theory by walking towards him, rubbing my cheek against his leg, and Waddyaknow! He reaches down and scratches me under the chin.

But not for long enough.

I shall have to bend him to my ways.


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I have got him on the run!

After yesterdayís spitting spat he is hurriedly boning up on Great Expectorations by Charles Dickens.

He hasnít a clue, honest, even with a bookmark in the back for ďNotes on Chapter twoĒ.


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Ca va driverai me batty. Je doit trouverai le source de ce sanglant Francais emission. Tout la sanglant journee il est ďBonjour! Ca va?Ē par-dessu et par-dessu encore.


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Spent two minutes counting to two this afternoon. I got stuck for a couple of minutes after one, but whoís counting, eh?

P.S. When I say ďa couple of minutes after oneĒ I donít mean one as in Hickory-Dickory Dock, or Number One. I have already had two Number Twos today.

Later Still

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First it was the recycling truck, then the garbage truck. Metal bins trundling, metal bin lids, metal bin lids clanging open, metal bins being hoisted, metal bins being shaken, metal bins being unhoisted, metal bin lids clanging shut, empty metal bins trundling and echoing. Big Blue Plastic Wheely-bins too.

What is it with humans and all this waste? Why donít they get Newfies to deal with it, like I do?

Later Not so Still

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Got through my exercises in about three seconds flat this afternoon.

A new personal best.

Dumbo is still on D- of Table 1 of the 5BX plan.

Tuesday, July 08, 2014

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Decided to spend most of the day making sure that Fred could reclaim his parking spot. Quite obviously the reason he has not returned to pick me up is that heís circling the block looking for a better spot.

The music of yesterday, or the day before, has stopped and is replaced by French descriptions of Franceís chances in the World Cup. No, no longer the World Cup, the Wimbledon Tennis. No, no longer the Wimbledon Tennis, the Tour de France which is in England. Go figure! Or the ending of the strike in the fete at Avignon, the SNCF train strike having ended. Newfoundland appears to be deficient in proper circumflex symbols, besides being out of cod.

Had several good nightís sleep, and told Newfie all about it each time I woke. Spent part of the night guarding his door as he slept, so I could quickly put my paws to my lips when Fred returned in the middle of the night to spirit me away.


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I donít know how pointed a message I can convey.

Iím sitting on my box, Dumbo.

Itís a hint!

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No, Iím not aspiring to top up the tray.

Not My Job!

I just shovel the stuff in there.

Itís the door, stupid; the door what Fred walked out of years ago. The door what Iím waiting for him to walk back in. And the heck about sentences, prepositions ending with.

Later Still

I was given a quick inspection of El Frigo this morning. Newfie lifted me under the shoulders so I could get a better look. Nothing to eat there. Some beans, celery, carrots, onions (ugh!). Spotted some eggs, but no sign of the chickens that must have been there before the egg, Iím told.

Some milk in clear plastic tubs that to my mind looked like custard-flavoured milk. Ugh. Theory is that thereís some animal protein in the upper compartment but the design specs are frozen.

ŅEs El Frigo?

°Please donít tell me that on weekends we do Spanish!

Later Still

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Power to the pussycats!

Iím no lapdog; Iím a LapCat!

Iím the Top LapCat!

Iím the Top LapTopCat!

Clap the Top LapTopCat!

The Top LapTopCat donít Clap Claptrap!

[ed: Thank you, nor do we.]

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Iíve been boning up on my camouflage. Here the one-eyed Sphinx hides behind what Stinx. Dead leaves of garlic. Or as the French would have it ďWhat can ail thee knight-at-arms ...Ē.

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Mind you, in a joint like this camouflage is dead easy.

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It rains a lot in Newfoundland.

I wish I were back home in Sunny Ontario.

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Well, my cover is blown!

Or rather, Iíve blown my cover.

How was I to know that my back legs were so strong that they could topple a small island.

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Speaking of which, I told Newfie to send the top soil next door to Prince Edward Island and the cleaning bill to Fred. Hah hah!

Wednesday, July 09, 2014

Now itís Italian, and worse, ďSing-along-with-Chris in Duetto buffo di due gatti.mp3Ē. I get the Buffo bit, thatís obvious, but the rest is Greek to me. He has learned all the words, but has a lousy accent, you ask me.

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Woke up early this morning and decided to invent an alarm clock.

Worked first time!

Also I learned a new word.

Who said cats are dumb? (Offer void to ungrateful owners of Newfoundland Summer Camps)

Did some work on the computer:


Weighed myself. 10.4 pounds, since you ask. A sack of spuds, Ďass me!

Later Still

Newfie has dementia!

He wandered off to get a copy of the local paper, strangely named ďThe Toronto StarĒ, but after reading the second section he exclaimed ďThis paper is full of shitĒ, when he ought to know that in the wicker basket by the front door are several pieces of paper that are already full of same. He must have forgotten that they are there.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

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I have elected myself chairman, having tabled the motionless for several days now.

Speaking of which, where is Fred?


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Was constipated for a little while there, probably scared shitless.

Then I took a second look and it really scared the shit out of me.

The moment, amongst other things, has passed now.

I hope he uses the sheet to wrap the ďsheetĒ.

Today I will make a start on the third tin of meat-treats. It is a long road training Newfie about when to put it down, but Iím getting there. Humans are just about the most difficult things in the world to train. Thatís why youíll never see a YouTube video of cats herding humans.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Invented another alarm-clock this morning, with my claws. Iím not sure what it is, or used to be, but it sure was effective. Learned the same words this morning that I learned yesterday morning.

OTOP Iím settling in more and more. No more sleeping on the bed for THIS cat; Iím independent now. Wossname would be ever so proud of me

I spend less and less time on my box, although Iíve trained Chris to scratch me under the chin when I jump up on it. No way Iím going back into that box though. Itíll be a fight to the end. Wossname will be going down the tubes. The Polysporin tubes.


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I continue to practice my camelflage techniques. Here I am posing as a camel.

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Camelflage gets easier and easier once you are over the hump.

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Time for a little sweet talk on the web; a candied shot of me as I continue my daily round of tasks.

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Yes folks, itís true! Iím the Lapcat behind the writing!

Later Still

Today the windows got descreened and cleaned. We are now waiting for the twin thick ropes to be taken away so that we can rescreen the windows and spend hours gazing out for a sign of Wossname.

Later Still

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We decided to chill out on the bench in the afternoon.

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Man this is cool!

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Chris took off most of his fur, but I kept mine on. I am an ambassacat, after all!

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We played footsie. I love that sport. I am soooo laid back!

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Thigh! (sigh!)

Saturnís day, July 12, 2014

Chris went off to get two papers today; no shit!

He issued his usual little mantra ďI have to go out, you have to stay home. You be a good pussycat drone drone droneĒ before heading out and the usual ďIím HOME again! Whereís that cat?Ē when he came back.

ďInside every thin closet thereís a fat cat trying to get out.Ē

Hereís another one I dreamed up:

ďIf you canít find your cat, I posit: Look inside every closetĒ.



More new words I learned today after Chris has opened and closed every closet and cupboard door in Newfoundland.

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Oh yes. The words. Something like ďSo THERE you are, you little shit! You can bloody well stay there and either starve to death or die of thirstĒ.

I am considering suspending the program of Camelflage if it brings on this kind of language.

Saturnís day, July 13, 2014

Clue: drop the ďaĒ, ďtĒ and ďrĒ and it is STILL raining. Newfoundland must be practically an island by now.

Fred is back!

I know this because Chris got dressed this morning and announced ďIím just going downstairs to chat with FredĒ, but came back fifteen minutes later without him?

Why is Fred hiding from me? Why canít I go home? Chris is all very well, but he has taken to making me jump up on the bed for my treats instead of just handing them out as is my royal right. I donít like serfing, even when Iím on the web.

Which leaves my question unanswered: Why is Fred sitting there outside the door, and why canít I hear his voice, and why doesnít he come and RESCUE ME and take me back to Ontario?

I will practice sitting on my box again; but thereís no way Iím getting back into it. Iím going back home inside Fredís shirt, my cute little furry head poking out at the neck.

His life Ďpon it, Sir!


Today Metro celebrated my yearís stay here by dropping its price on Chapmanís 2-litre cartons of ice-cream to $2.99. I dispatched Chris to head off across the street, running zigzag to dodge the Germans. He came back unwounded but breathlessly excited with a carton of Butterscotch Ripple and a carton of Chocolate Mint.

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While he got started into his second bowl, I decided to practice my camelflage techniques.


Monday, July 14, 2014

It is National Metal Bins day again. How time flies.

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I have inspected the noise from a position about two feet from the window and retired here to think about it.


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I think Iíve worked out whatís happened to Wossname; the rain has probably washed away all his scent and he canít find his way back here.

I must ask Chris all about it next time we go to bed. Chris will know. Heís pretty clever for a Newfie.

Perhaps he will let me out for a few minutes so I can spray around the car park; surely Wossname has enough nous to recognize my scent after all these years?

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Well! We HAVE been busy. I slept most of the morning, ate my meat-treats for lunch, then had a long after-lunch nap while Chris read a few Simon Winchester novels.

At least, I assume thatís what he was doing, curled up on the couch staring at a book.

I went back to sleep until it was time for my evening meat-treat, and so to bed.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Much business today. Man-other came with wife and huge aluminium thing which he proceeded to climb and unscrew the fan-that-never-turns-without-making-a-noise installing in its place a more expensive fan-that-never-turns-without-making-a-noise.

I swear I donít understand these humans.

Chris swears, too, when he learns that the only way to change the direction of rotation is to mount a stepladder (which in this building means putting in a work-order) and flip a switch.

Iím glad Iím not a sailor, for I donít know how to blush.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

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I have found a spot for Wossname to park and am spending my time staring at it to scare anyone who decides to take it while listening for Fredís return.

Itís been two days since heís gone; I know that because I can count to two.

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Meanwhile the banshees keep going along the street here. Newfoundland must have millions of fire-trucks; at least two go by here every morning, noon and night. I donít know where they store them all.

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Well, thatís the first shift over. Iím heading back to bed, via my perch on my box. If Iím lucky Chris will see me there and scratch my chin.


More business. Man-other returned with what I assume is the same aluminium thing and climbed up and wielded a screwdriver. I know he wielded it because Chris has left his COD open at page 1662 and Iíve been studying ďwigeonĒ which might be related to the gray shapes that flutter past the windows of Newfoundland.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


Another cloudy day in Newfoundland. I have given up on Wossname; if he never comes back for me I couldnít care less. Or I could care less. Whichever you think is the more correct. I couldnít care less.

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Here I am sitting on top of the world, doing Chrisís crossword.

A novelty, really, because there hasnít been a cross word between us in all the years Iíve lived with Chris.

Except for that business of the alarm clock.

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On reflection I confess that I just donít have a clue.

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So then Chris got all soft and gooey about my fur coat, so in a moment of weakness I showed off for him.

Iíd really like him to like me, and to that end I let him pick me up and cart me all over the province, especially if he scratches my jaw while he does so.

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Can you say ďMeat TreatsĒ?

Thereís absolutely no need to extend it to the question ďIs it time for meat treats?Ē.

Itís ALWAYS time for meat treats in Newfoundland.


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Blue movie night tonight; show started late. Brief recap of the history of the cod father, blue briefs, blue screen, blue trim on shelf-ish cabinet; very much a marine-blue marine theme. As if I care. Iím getting used to the maritimes.

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Iíve seen the movie before, so Iím basically just listening to the dialogue while running through my ďtwoĒs table: ďOne, TwoĒ; Iím getting quite good at this. Probably two good for my own good.

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OK. NOW itís getting interesting. I could watch this cat all night long.

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And there you go Ė twenty-four minutes and itís all over. How time flies when youíre having fun. It seems like only yesterday when Wossname dropped me off, but I know itís tomorrow, because it was a Sunday. Or rather today.

Rats! Must go back and review that two-timing table.

Streeetch and relax.

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Credits. Who cares. Wish I knew the name of the sexy cat, though. Wonder if she lives in Newfoundland?

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Here I am doing my Male Peacock Interpretation, for anyone whoís be impressed by this sort of thing.

I hear that theyíre pretty good at this sort of thing in Texas. Bunch of austentatious show-offs you ask me ...

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OK Honey. Letís go to sleep. Iím drowsy.

Can I put my head on your shoulder?

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Slept in, or rather under. Dreamt of a great big slab of cold fish under the bed sheets.


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I just couldnít take my eyes of this car parked for an hour or so this morning.

I donít know why.

I might ask Chris if we can watch The Godfather again tonight; maybe the car was in the movie, or one like it.

It brings back memories of Ontario; I think that there was a car like it in Ontario, but Iím in Newfoundland now, so why would that car be following me here?

There is much that we cats have to think about.

Iíd hate for this Newfie ďChrisĒ to go away on holiday; Iíd miss him terribly. We have grown quite close to each other over the years. Iíd feel awful if he abandoned me to a total stranger.

Later Still

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It has just dawned on me that there is another building in Newfoundland, right next the building in which Chris and I live. Good thing I can now count to two! My current theory is that Wossname is waiting for me in the other building, by mistake.

If so heís gone several days without food.

Later Still

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Despondent doesnít even come close!

For a minute there I thought I was going to go ohm.

Then I thought that this is ohm.

Then I thought Iíd forgotten where ohm is.

Let alone that ohmo sapiens that used to hang around, feed me etcatera etcatera etcatera.

Now I think I 8-ohm.

Wherever it is.

ŅMiawo Casa?

Is anybody listening?

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Well, I have to say Iím loving Newfoundland more and more. The food is good, movies are free, and I have adopted some regular responsibilities, which always makes a guy feel good.

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I start the day with a cautious inspection of the watering system. There appears to be less water in one of the bowls than was the case yesterday. To make matters worse, there is more water in the other bowl.

There are two bowls; of this I am sure.

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Next I walk on the palms of my paws to check the paw-paw palm in the corner. As far as I can see it hasnít grown much at all. Perhaps it needs more water.

OTOP you can give a plant two much water.

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No time to waste; I stride, purposely, off to check on other aspects of the province, too numerous to mention.

More than two, at any rate.

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A quick check of my appearance; I am, after all, an ambassacat for Ontario as well as Newfoundland.

Two provinces!

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That done, itís time to take a quick nap under the bed in the cool of the breeze.

Must get Chris to dust that table while Iím asleep.


The court case from Tuesday, July 08 came up.

I lost the case.

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I wuz framed!

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