Furry Felines and Mesmerising Mantids

So, I am sitting here, watching the Olympics, hoping, beyond hope, that I might catch a glimpse of any competitor other than a Canadian. Now, just as an aside, that really bugs me. I don't care whether you are a Canadian, American, or Outer Mongolian, surely anyone who is interested in watching any kind of sport is interested in all the competitors, not just the ones that they are supporting? What is the point of seeing just one nation's competitors and not their competition? How can you judge how well they are doing if you have nothing to compare them to? Even if I were supporting the Canadians, I would like to see the best of the other countries. And, let's be honest, here is another example of why I will never be truly Canadian. Firstly, I don't like TimBits and secondly, I still root for the British.

Back to the plot - sitting watching the Olympics - when I hear what I think is the sound of a fire engine, just as it is starting up its siren. A deep whine rising in strength and volume, to a loud, rumbling wail. No, wait, it is not a siren at all, it is someone's weed wacker. Nope, the sound is emanating from inside the house. What the .............ah, now that I have levered myself off the sofa, I have pinpointed the sound - it is Tess, my sweet, furry, bundle of fluff, imitating a cross between a fire engine siren and a weed wacker. That can only mean one thing - another cat. Yep, there it is, beating a hasty retreat down the garden path. We seem to be getting quite a few feline visitors recently. That might have something to do with the fact that half the neighbourhood cats are now addicted to our little patch of catnip and so turn up every day, craving their daily fix. Neither Tess nor Willow appreciate this - they do not make very good pushers - apparently their patch of nip is not for sale!

On the Tess and catnip front, my little Tessie had a bit of trip yesterday. Mr. DBM had supplied her with her daily dose. She likes to pounce on it and then roll around on it before eating it. Unfortunately for her, on this occasion it got stuck in her belly fur, right where she couldn't quite reach it. So, much rolling over and over and over ensued. Mr. DBM thought she was having a fit. I just couldn't stop laughing. Tess was not amused and had to go for a nap after all that activity.

Back onto the sofa......................screeeeech, scrabble, yowwwlll, scrtchhhhhhh, scrttchhhhh, scrttchhhhh, whoooooosh, swish, thump, thump! Now what!?! Can't I get a minutes peace and quiet to marvel how badly the Canadian Olympians are doing? I prise myself off the sofa again and, yep, it is that demented cat again. Tess. This time, she has snorted half the container of catnip, which was on the table. She went to lay down, missed the table and fell off. In the process of falling off, she scrabbled around a lot, grabbed onto the table runner and and pulled 80% of it off the table. Luckily for her, the 20% on which my lovely fruit bowl sits stayed on the table, just.
I think perhaps she needs to lay off the catnip for a while - a little detox program might be in order.

As for my other feline friend, Willow, well she has found herself a new game to play. She seems to have gotten bored with the running from the back door to the front door game and has moved on to the catch, release, catch and release game. This involves her finding some poor, unfortunate rodent and bringing it home. To begin with, they would arrive back here, sans head, but she has since discovered it is far more fun to bring them home alive and kicking. She can then release them and sit back and enjoy the spectacle that is me, running around with a tupperware container, trying to catch the poor little bugger. Yes, I know, I could just leave them, but then Willow would be straight back out again, and after her second catch, there is no release. So, I have to perform the second catch. I then trundle off to the creek that runs down the back of the house to perform the release. If the owls living in the woods behind my house were smart, they would just sit around waiting for me to show up with my tupperware container:

"Ooooh, here comes lunch."
"Excellent - I quite fancy shrew today, what about you?"
"Well, I am hoping for a nice fat vole, but a field mouse would do."

Great game, huh? No? Well, I have tried to explain this to Willow, but, well, she is a cat, isn't she? And that means that she catches mice and ignores anything and everything that I say, except tuna - she never ignores that.

After all that hunting, Willow needs to have a nap too - at least she earns hers, unlike her sister! You know the saying "Let sleeping dogs lie"? Well, trust me, it needs to be applied to cats too. She may look all cute and cuddly, but you just try and stroke her tummy when she is all stretched out like that. Don't say I didn't warn you.................

Just as a contrast to all things cute and furry, let me introduce you to my newest pet - a praying mantis. OK, so even I can't claim this pet to be cute, but it really is quite fascinating and definitely mesmirising. Just look into those eyes...................