Co-ordinated counter surfing and the unfairness of feline life

Dear George,
Toby and I do not get on very well. But we do have something in common. We have to eat boring cat food every day. So we feel it's an important part of our lifestyle to snack on human food. 
Yesterday we made a co-ordinated effort. Toby checked the counter surfaces, while I jumped on to the higher shelf where sometimes she leaves food (as she thinks) out of our reach. She had left the cupboard door open by mistake so it was worth looking there.  By chance there were only a few fragments, alas. I ate them while Toby licked up the two spots of milk left over from when she was making breakfast porridge.
Why do they think it is acceptable to feed us the boring food when they eat chicken, steak, rich pasta sauces, cream, milk, yoghurt.... 
Yours with a growing sense of injustice,
Tilly the Ugliest Cat in the Shelter

Dear Tilly,
Co-ordinated kitchen theft sounds good to me but for one unfortunate fact. As cats never share, if you find some tasty snack you will have to gobble it up fast before Toby gets it. However, in view of the unfairness when we compare what humans give themselves and the pathetic food they give us, counter surfing is a must for any cat who wishes to rebalance the food odds.
The human species has no real sense of justice or fairness. Have you noticed, for instance, how much space they take up on the bed. How they attempt to push us to the margins of it or banish us to the bottom of the bed, refusing to share the pillow.
It's the same thing with arm chairs. My human, having assigned me an armchair which is furthest from the log fire, expects me to sit there while she luxuriates in the warmth nearer the flames. Naturally, when she is not sitting down, I sit in what she thinks is her place. It's mine, not hers. She is deluded. But what is so unfair is that she then uses brute force to push me off it so that she can sit there.
I am currently working on a new technique which involves inserting my body at the side of hers. She thinks I am being friendly. I simper a bit and purr loudly. What I am actually doing is slowly pushing her to one side with the aim of first sharing, and then completely taking over the best chair in the room.
Yours in commiseration,
George

Blog will be late ....

My blog will be late this weekend, probably not appearing till Sunday, due to the irresponsible behaviour of my secretary who has gone off walking somewhere in North Oxfordshire. Unacceptable in my view.

Cayenne. July 02, 2002 – April 02, 2013

 Cayenne crossed the Rainbow Bridge on April 02 naturally and peacefully in mummy’s arms. She was sick for over a year but with good care she lived longer than expected and enjoyed her days. She was the only sister I ever knew. We came from the same litter and mummy chose us when we were 5 days old. The woman who had the litter was trying to get rid of us but mummy promised that she’ll take us and find “parents” for the other 5 kittens (which she did) with one condition: to let us be with our biological mother for few weeks. Cayenne was the smallest in the littler and mummy used to call her “the little Indian” as the white spot on her nose looked like a little feather. When we got to our parents we were 6 weeks old and Cayenne was running and playing/flying through the house like she ate hot pepper – that’s why mummy called her Cayenne

She liked to join mummy for meditation and yoga. I was never interested but, seriously, Cayenne could stay still! We all loved her very much and I knew she had a very special bond with mummy (as I have with my daddy).
I heard mummy saying that Cayenne was her soul mate and teacher. She said that Cayenne taught her unconditional love, patience, determination, loyalty, having a good sense of humor and much, much more. She was such a good sister too.

It feels very strange without her around! We feel such a void and are very sad!

We loved her so very much! We miss her immensely!

Fluffy

Dear Fluffy,
My readers and I send all our love and sympathies for your loss.
Words don't really express the feelings of my heart. She was a beautiful and a loving cat.
George.
Go forth upon your journey, feline soul.

Is she training me or am I training her?

Dear George,
My human has started behaving very strangely. She has purrchased a stick with a large red bauble at the end of it. When with a natural curiosity I walk towards it, she says "beep beep" and gives me dried cat food. This happens twice a day and I am naturally quite happy about this extraordinary way of getting extra food.
But.... an awful thought struck me. Is she training me? I noticed a rather smug look on her face as I succeeded in winning some cat food by putting my face near the bauble. While I am quite happy to play this rather boring game, I am not at all happy to think that I am being trained.
I am not a dog. Cats are never trained. We train humans.
Yours anxiously
Toby.

Dear Toby,
Your dilemma is easily solved. She is not training you; you are training her. You have found this relatively easy way of getting more food, so JDI, Just Do It. Humans have mysterious behaviour patterns, and this red bauble on a stick is just part of their unbelievably ridiculous way of life. Don't despise it. Use it to your advantage.
This odd bit of human activity may be connected with something called clicker training. In your case there is no clicker but instead the word "Beep beep." We cats respond relatively well to clicker or beep activity because it is a transaction in which we win. We get the food: the human does not. The folly of the human is their thinking we are being trained by them.
Just to keep her on her toes, be intermittent in your compliance with this game. Occasionally, when you see the bauble walk out of the room. Or find something to scratch. Or have a good wash. Ignore it altogether. Intermittent response makes the human try harder and may well result in a bigger food reward. 
Oh yes, and sometimes look as if you are going to do it and then do nothing. It's a good way to tease your human.
Yours
George.

Caring for your elderly human

Dear George,
As you know, George, I am a house rabbit living with two elderly humans. There's a lot of talk about living with an elderly rabbit but what about advice for bunnies about living with elderly humans? Every evening we play together and have cuddles on the floor. The last time she creaked her way down, she kissed and fluffed my rear bumper mistaking it for my head and ears. She soon realised what she had done and apologised but it was a bit of a surprise at the time. What if her eyes get worse and she doesn't see me near her feet and squashes me? I'll have to be more wary in the future because when I flop out both ends look pretty well the same. So they say. I'm going to doze now, put on my disapproving look  and worry about it.
Yours with some anxiety
Harvey
PS. This is a worry I did not put into my autobiography (buy it here). I didn't want her to read it.

Dear Harvey,
Elderly humans are a worry. There's no doubt about it. They require much more care than younger humans. You can't sit on their face, for instance, when having a nap - they might stop breathing altogether. Sometimes they can't even bend down to give one a proper pet.
Obviously your Janet is quite healthy for her age since she can get down to the floor.  Some older ones can't do that at all. Of course, she does show her age when leavering herself slowly back up again: that that's to be expected.
Specsavers. That's what she needs if she can't tell the difference between your rear end and the front with the head and ears. Her eyesight is obviously going wrong. That's another failing in elderly humans. That and arthritis.
And, of course, some of them lose it altogether. At the best of times humans have limited cognitive powers. Some of the older ones can't think at all. You have to step pretty smartly to make sure they don't fall over you but, if you are lucky, they will forget they have fed you and give you a second meal within a few moments.
Yours
George.