It's a cat's life

Just my luck. I get my blog up and running and They promptly vanish for two weeks, leaving me powerless at the pooter. Our paws are designed not for typing on pooter keyboards, but for killing.

So now They're back. While They've been away, the nice people next door have popped in twice a day to deliver the meals. I've yet to find a way into their house, however - no flap, and as it's winter the windows are closed - so I couldn't get in to demand extra food. Therefore I decided to take the law into my own paws - well, what would you do if you were a hungry animal and your "owners" had buggered off to Brazil?

It's not so difficult. Here is the Solti method of self-feeding:

1. Leap on to kitchen island surface.
2. Push bag of cat biscuits off surface with several hefty nose shoves.
3. Attack. Those paws were made for killing. That's what they were going to do to the plastic bag. It was quite tough, but the food was inside and it had to come out. If the kitchen scissors could do it, so could my teeth and claws.
4. The hole successfully made, push bag over on to side so that food pours on to floor.
5. Gorge to heart's content.

They came back early yesterday morning, looking like They hadn't had much sleep on the plane. And can you believe it, They complain, upon picking me up, that I am fatter than I was when they left. Huh. They should just see themselves. They've been feasting on coconut cocktails on Copacabana Beach and it would appear that dancing the tango in Buenos bloody Aires doesn't burn up commensurate calories.