So Tolkien called me “the Fauna of Mordor”, did he?  Well, there are more of us Siameasles than he knew, I’ve just discovered (by prowling the Twitosphere).

Except they call themselves “meezers“… for some strange reason…

For example, take Cocomeezer… another cat who tweets, and knows how to keep their Minkeyservant busy.  The Cat Post Intelligencer is my new favorite blog!

Oh yes. And I have got control of this one back from Minkeyservant again. Changed her password. She will never figure it out, since I have no idea what I was tapping.

It was very easy. I just purred her to sleep when she was foolish enough to lie down on the couch. Then I danced on the keyboard with my pointy little clawzles.

Now must go recruit some Orcs…

The last thing I ever expected to be talking about on Valentine’s Day was J. R. R. Tolkien, famous author of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. However, two odd coincidences made up my mind…

First, I found this old photo of Minkey trying to sneak into my suitcase as I packed essentials (a warm sweater, a spiral-bound notebook and The Two Towers) for a trip away from home, last year.  Then I came across a letter written by Tolkien himself, in 1959, to his publishers, Allen and Unwin.

It seems a Cambridge cat breeder politely wrote to ask if she could register a litter of Siamese kittens with names taken from “Lord of the Rings”.

The Fauna of Mordor

Tolkien’s reply to his publisher was…

…”My only comment is that of Puck upon mortals. I fear that to me Siamese cats belong to the fauna of Mordor, but you need not tell the cat breeder that.”

‘Scuse me. I’m off to read this priceless gem to the Eye of Sauron, who is sleeping the sleep of the remorseless on my clean, warm towels.

(Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!)

Today, I decided to make the text in this blog BIGGER. Really, I am surprised Minkeyservant didn’t think of it before, considering what terrible eyesight human beans have!  (They can’t even see in the dark!)

*Pook!*  *CLICK!* Done.

Well, that was a lot of work, so I am going back to toast my back end over the baseboard heater. Sometimes I sit on it. Sometimes I climb into my boxie in the bathroom, and bake myself to a crisp.

What do you think?  No, not about boxie toasting; that’s a “given”…  Is the new text size better, or did you prefer it the way it was before?

Woke up from my winter nap because it’s Rustly Paper day.  Yes, once a year, there are lots of things wrapped in rustly paper, with killable dangly bits attached. And a mysterious, wonderful SMELL that has nothing to do with roasted birdies, sent by Auntie Sandi, who only visits Minkeyservant to see ME.

(Auntie Sandi understands cats, and never screams like Minkeyservant when I accidentally pook her with my clawzles.)

I hunt through all the rustly paper, killing everything on the way, of course, getting dizzier and dizzier until I feel like a kitten again – a kitten who is ALL POWERFUL!

Finally, I find it. I smear the source of the SMELL all over my had and body and roll in it. It’s always in the smallest package of rustly paper, but my theory is, all the big ones are put around it to hide it, so I won’t find it.

But I always DO - Muwhahahaha!

Well, I’m going to sleep off my smell-bath now – speared it with my claw, soaked it with my tongue and smeared it all over my body.  Will wake up when roasted birdie is ready. But I’ll say what I’ve been hearing Minkeyservant say all week to you foolish mortals…

*MIAOUWWY CHRISTMAS!*

Alright. So I do know how to speak Human, take a photo of myself with the camera – and type with my pointy little clawzles! All those hours on Minkeyservant’s shoulder while she worked… and she thought I was just being affectionate – MIAO-WAHAHAHAHA!

This “work” she always has to do at the computer has taken over our lives together! I tried everything – bribing her with my best toys, singing my best songs, hurling myself affectionately from the far end of the room to land on her keyboard…  But all she kept saying was: “Sorry, Minkey. I’m too busy. Got a deadline.”

Offered to kill deadline for her – I’m good at killing – but she did not respond. I am afraid she is not as smart as she thinks she is, and barely understands two words I yowl.

Then, one horrific day, I woke up from a nap and discovered… all that writing – and she hadn’t written a word about MEEEEE for WEEKS AND WEEKS!

Accessed computer while she was sleeping – I know all her passwords – MIAO-WAHAHAHAHA!  Figured out how to set self up as “User “(something she is still trying to do, by the way).

Have fired Minkeyservant, and taken over this blog.

Writing own posts, from now on.

Tired. Must go nap.

I know I’ve been AWOL lately – but I’m not the owner who gave her cat H1N1. I’m afraid it’s not a joke: I read a bulletin that has just come out on the AMVA (American Veterinary Medical Association’s) website.  Apparently an elderly cat (13) came down with respiratory symptoms after his human family members passed on the virus.

(NB: It did not occur the other way round. The cat did not pass the virus onto his owners.)

I guess now we have to worry about our pets, as well as our families.  (The AVMA has provide a FAQ sheet you can consult, to learn more about H1N1 and your pet.)

Wonder if they’ll develop a pet H1N1 vaccine?  Somehow, I doubt it…

Sometimes we develop cat communication habits we aren’t even aware of. Take me, for example…

I’m a copywriter who ghostwrites web and advertising copy. I work at home… and Minkey is my only companion during long hours at “work”.

This morning, while planning an article, I decided to use my computer’s speech recognition capabilities to dictate the key points – the bare “skeleton” – instead of typing them out.

My plan was to time myself, to see which way really is quicker: Typing or dictating.

My little experiment proved 2 things to me:

1. I’m way faster typing!
2. I have some really baaad Pet Communication Habits

I’ll show you what I mean. Now, I know this stuff is dry, and Speech Recognition programs are not known for their brilliant punctuation skills, but bear with me. Read every word… and you’ll see what I mean about “baaad cat communication habits”. Ready?

You see, when I start dictating into the microphone, Minkey immediately starts to Sing. He yammers and yowls and chatters non stop. It makes it hard to concentrate (and doesn’t help me write exciting prose!)

It’s a good thing my headset mic doesn’t pick up Siameasle. He could be saying anything, you know:

“My, lovely weather we’re having today, Minkeyservant…”

Or:

“I love you SOOO MUCH – and I’m so excited you’re finally talking to me after reading all those stupid books…”

Or:

“$#%(*& frickenschnickencrazylady, stop #$%$#*! talking to yourself already, you’re driving me NUTS…”

Or then again, maybe it’s just: “Minkeyservant, shut up…”

The trials of Minkey’s sudden New Age mellowness… This morning, I awoke to the melodious sound of violent bazooka-barfing, right beside my bed.  It’s my own fault, really. I wasn’t able to get Minkey’s special Royal Canin Siamese food so I made do with another expensive premium product.

I blearily got up, cleaned it up, and did all the other tasks involved in the disposal of revolting cat presents.

By this time, I was thoroughly awake, in spite of finally having fallen into bed at 3:41 a.m. – only 2 hours before.

Minkey, of course, was blissfully asleep by the time I finally sat down at my computer.

I fired it up, downloaded my emails for the day and prepared to get back to my job as a ghostwriter.

There in my spam filter lay a “CatScope” from iVillage.  Intrigued, I previewed it. And this is what it says for “The Taurus Cat”:

“Open up and make sure that your human companions really know how you feel. It’s a good time for you to make a big show out of disdaining food you don’t care for or otherwise showing off.“

That cat is just plain spooky sometimes, you know…

Minkey and I are probably the last people on earth to hear about Nora the Piano Cat. Rescued as a stray, this velvet-coated beauty with eyes like Scottish mountain mist headlined as soloist on YouTube, playing a CATcerto with the Klaipeda Chamber Orchestra. (And garnering 1,305,975 views as of this writing.)

But I’ll warn you – this is no mere “Cute Kitty” video, with Junior bashing a few random notes on the piano. Nora’s musical abilities can only be described as “sensitive” and “staggering”.  The delicacy of her improvisations is equalled only by her skill.

At one point, she even (perfectly) introduces a Jazz riff. (Check it out for yourself!)

CATcerto. Mindaugas Piecaitis

As soon as the entire 4:52 min. concerto finished playing, Minkey leapt sulkily off my shoulder.

He is now elaborately cleaning his claws on the headboard of my bed (a place he only retreats to when feeling Extra Naughty).

I do not have a piano, but if he starts playing my little Celtic lap harp, the results are likely to be spectacular. For both of us.

Because he is likely to Shred it.

Let me introduce you to another Minkeyfriend. This is Lily, who is about 5 months old. As you can see, like Minkey, she is fascinated by Fluttery Things that Move – in this case, her house-mate, Spike.

We hear that Spike is NOT impressed with Miss Lily. But he tolerates her sleeping for hours on top of his cage (her favorite, er, “perch”) without spitting out more than the occasional sulky swear word.

Although owner Katherine optimistically thinks they are friends and this is just a delightful kitty game, we are not fooled by such devious kitten behavior: We think she has been diligently taking Lessons in Stalking (and Advanced Snooze 101) from Minkey.