Off-Line

I'm closing down the computers for the move and will be off-line until Monday or Tuesday (fingers crossed because you know how "they" like to mess with my internet).

Aidan's Turn

Aidan here. Mother was going to have Seamas blog again, but I begged her not to subject you to any more of his “LOLz” cat speak, so to say. I hate that site; it’s such an insult to us superior felines. Anyway, we’re adjusting fine without Neely Shae, although I must admit that I do miss my favorite target. Bailey and Seamas aren’t as fun to attack. And I said Bailey. I don’t care if there’s some sort of mix-up with his and mother’s names. BooBear is ridiculous. How could any self-respecting feline hold up his head with a name like BooBear? I know, mother calls me Aidan Maiden, so who am I to speak, right? I.hate.Aidan Maiden. In case I’m not clear enough – Aidan Maiden sucks eggs. She even has a little poem for me: Aidan Maiden, pudding pie. Kissed the kits and made them cry. When Aidan Maiden came out to play, all the kits they ran away. Can you imagine going through life with that sticking to you? It’s either that or Secret Aidan Man. If I have to have one or the other, I’ll take Secret Aidan Man because at least it’s male.

Mother has been having a bit of a bad week. The sale of the house isn’t going through as soon as she, and obviously Uncle David, thought it would. So here’s mother packing to move into an apartment she can’t afford. It’s all Uncle David’s fault and if he were here I’d pee on his foot. He doesn’t like cats anyway, so what harm would it do? I could leave a little present in his shoe too, if you know what I mean. I don’t mind getting a little crass when it comes to protecting my mother.

I heard mother say the other day that she just doesn’t get to blog as much as she used to. What with all of this packing and cleaning, she doesn’t have the time. I know, you see her on MySpace a lot. She’s not always there. Mother has this habit of leaving the computer on and logged into the site. Whenever she gets a message or something, it “cachings” (that’s the closest to the sound I can get) rather loudly and she comes running to answer it. It’s pathetic if you ask me, sort of like Pavlov’s dogs. Anyway, once she’s settled into her new place, she’ll get back to a routine. Whatever that is. And she’ll be able to look for a job again. I’ve been told she needs one badly. I don’t know why, wouldn’t a purr, nuzzle and lick get her most things in life? It works for us.