When I was a Kitten........

When I was a kitten

Into their lives I bludgeoned
Mewing pathetically.

I stayed in their garden

Pushed every right button

To butter up Boss and Boss Lady.

********

Soon I gained entry

Into their hallowed sanctuary

To comforts I considered mine.

I laughed contentedly
Sniggering 'hee hee hee'
My life's going to be just fine.

Luncheon of the Boating Party

This is my favourite piece of art, Luncheon of the Boating Party. I was one of Renoir's models among his friends. Needless to say, I was caught glowering at the puppy, though some insisted that I actually glowered at Monsieur Renoir's future wife, who was holding the wriggling canine. But it was a free country, and I was entitled to glower at anyone I please.

Liberte, egalite, fraternite to all!

Otoosan's Gal

I'm proud to say I take after my Otoosan........in certain ways.

Restful Hour

Taking a break from my hectic schedule to laze around for a few minutes.

Miss S please take note. This chair needs a cushion.

I had a rude awakening today.

Here I was, relaxing with a nice nap, all the while dreaming that my ratty lunch was climbing up my paw as though it was Mt. Himalaya ( probably Mr. Rat thinks he would be awarded a Datukship if he reaches the summit ) and I could not do anything about it as today is the first day of their year, when WHAM, BANG, THE LIGHTNING CRASHED! Oh all right, I exaggerated slightly. It was a loud, and I mean l-o-u-d chorus of soprano and alto woofing, without the aid of a woofer and speakers. I hid upstairs. What else could a geisha do? Fight like the yakuza?

Then, before you know it, these two.........two.........two Martians had the gall to invade my private sanctuary and show their mugs right before my eyes. I had the shock of my life. I scooted off. But I still shudder when I recall their faces.

Shudder.....shudder.......shudder.........

Oh well, back to my nap.

Year of the Mouse

Sigh! The mice are finally having their field day. I must hunt for another source of protein this year. How do you think I feel, watching my lunch sliding down my paw? Oh well, there's always chicken and fish to fall back on. One must not always think of one's stomach.

Happy Mouse Year to all!

Pink Hibiscus

My otoosan was a greatly respected Yakuza. My okaasan is a local belle. This earned me an instant entry permit into the world of the Pink Hibiscus Club.

Maiko Hero

As I mentioned before, daddy was the yakuza, I am a geisha. Not a full-fledged geisha yet, but I make a charming Maiko. Here's a photograph of me in action, negotiating the tricky movements of the traditional dance.

Sweet Memories

Once upon a not-so-long time ago ( a year ago, to be exact ) , I was very sleek and slim. This picture caught me in my pensive mood, with liquid amber eyes staring dreamily into nothingness, pondering on the world's greatest mysteries, and the menu for dinner.

Aaahhh........a sweet moment of nostalgia.

Otoosan

My otoosan, the legendary Yakuza. He went down fighting a year ago at Mt. Sand Gurney. He was an inspiration to all in the feline world.

That's me indulging in my favourite hobby, gazing at Batman in the box, the caped crusader who looks suspiciously like a big black cat with pointy ears. Humans are a confused lot, and has the tendency to jumble up facts.

The fact is : He looks like a cat. He climbs like a cat. He prowls like a cat. Well, in my book, he IS a cat.

Let's hear it for Catman!

By the way, I think my daddy looked like that in his heyday.

Introducing Me(ooow)

Meooow! Welcome to my very first post on my very own blog.

Allow me to introduce myself to the clueless, because if you do not already know me, then you are indeed clueless, regardless of what you say.

I am Hiroshe. I am catty. Oh sorry, I meant a cat. Now back to serious introductory business.

My name is Hiroshe. There was a gender confusion here. Blame it on my clueless Towkay and the equally clueless Miss S. They wanted me to live up to my legendary otoosan, the Yakuza of the neighbourhood. I will not mention his name, as it was a disgrace to the greatest of cats. I will just say, he was named after an English dessert. But I digress. Allow me to continue. I was initially named Heroshi, as they envisioned a heroic cat caterwauling his victory over the neighbourhood meowers. How sorely disillusioned they became after a trip to the vet. The doc clarified to them what I've been trying to tell them all along. I'M A SHE! I fight not, neither am I capable of protecting my delicate self. I leave all the dirty job to flunkeys like my owner, miss S and Aunty Us. I keep myself clean. I groom myself several times a day.

I'm more a geisha than a yakuza.