How could my human refuse such a magnificent gift?

Dear George,
I finally achieved my ambition. I caught a rat all by myself. Previously I have picked up and carried rats that were originally caught by my companion Tilly. I hunted this one all by myself.
Look at the size of it! Twice as big as a mouse. I won't bore you with the full tail - how I heard it squeak, focussed all my attention on the shrubbery, stalked slowly and quietly up to it, and then pounced grabbing it by its bottom.
I bore it proudly out from the shrub, my head held high, my whole body quivering with joy, and decided to give it to my human. I was sure she would like it, as she ran and got a camera to photograph me and my rat. It was big enough for a whole human meal. She could have eaten it on toast like a grouse.
What happened next was a huge disappointment. As I strode towards her, she turned tail and ran into the house. Then she actually locked the cat flap against me.
How could she be so insensitive?
Toby.

Dear Toby,
For years I have campaigned to try to get across this message. Human Beings Refuse to Eat Mice or Rats.  We have all tried our best. We have brought in a wide variety of rodents, and there has been not a single case of human gratitude. Nor has it ever been recorded that a human seized the dead rodent, cooked and ate it. They just don't.
Birds are another matter. They eat birds frequently, mainly chickens but occasionally larger birds like turkey and goose. They even eat wild birds like pheasants and partridges and I am told that in France they eat blackbirds, after putting them in a pate.
Even so, almost all human refuse to eat the birds we bring in. I do know of one case, when I brought in a partridge, my own human shuddered but her sister seized it off me, wrung its neck, plucked it and took it home to eat. Now there is a human that knows what's what - even if I did lose my bird.
You will just have to learn to live with human ingratitude about rats. You cannot change human nature.
Yours
George.

Is it time for Bite The Vet week?

Dear George,
Unfortunately ,I was sick the other night, and even though it was outside, Mummy found it, and whipped me to that horrid place where they stuck a glass thing up my bottom, so undignified, and needles in me, shaved off my fur to do this.  And left me in a cage all day with water going in my leg.
What a carry on. I did feel very queasy.
She did collect me at 5 and had cooked me fish, and chicken. Well I was famished so was glad to see food. I stayed out that night, popped in to wake up when I got hungry, and guess what? 
She shut me in at 8am and out came my basket and back we went to the vets, for another injection. Cost her over £300 so that'll teach her a lesson.
Lots more fish and chicken followed, but I've stayed out of the house , only entering to wake her for food at night or a cuddle in the evening, as I know she's is worried, but it has freaked me out.
I suppose it did make me better, but how would she like it?
I know you will understand ,George.
Lots of love,
Toby xx.

Dear Toby,
Vets. I loathe and detest them. I call them torturers.  They are always jabbing needles into us. And as for that thing up the bottom. My friend William used turn round smartly and bite the hand that was trying to stuff a glass tube up his backside. He wouldn't have it. 
And the smell. Each time I go there it smells of feline distress, anxious human, and smelly dogs. In the waiting room the worry smell is almost overpowering. And oddest of all, the humans don't seem able to smell the anxiety in the air. Even the dogs do. But not the humans.
I am thinking of starting a Bite The Vet week among fellow felines. Or maybe we could start a cat gang, kidnap a vet, hold him down and stick a tube up his bottom.
 With sympathy for your suffering,
George. 
PS. This blog is early because my human is putting me into captivity for week, as she goes away to enjoy herself. Sickening behaviour.  AND she was too late to put this photo of Mexico Day (May 4) on the previous blog. I wish humans were more efficient.

Astrocats..... famous cats, space, and our new territory cyberspace

Dear George,
Did you ever hear about Astrocats?
I'm asking you because I'm thinking if I should consider the possibility (as you can see in the picture).
In the sixties, when dogs were being sent into space, cats had the good sense to avoid the trip.
In 1963, for example, when the French government had numerous cats undergoing intensive training for possible space flight, 10 of the would-be astrocats were “decommissioned” for eating too much! Even Felix, a Parisian street cat chosen to undertake the first mission, managed to escape at the last minute.
On October 18, 1963, his replacement, a female cat named Félicette, blasted off on a 100-mile flight lasting less than 15 minutes and was recovered, safe, but probably mad as hell.
So, George what do you think? Should cats take over the cyberspace?
CAT Victoria

Dear CAT Victoria,
Yes, of course, we should. Cyberspace is different from real space out there. Real space has killed score of animals - monkeys, mice, dogs (remember Laika the first dog in space), guinea pigs and even fruit flies. All sent off in a rocket to their deaths, because humans were happy to sacrifice them for their own safety in space.
Cyberspace is different. Just look at Youtube for videos of cats or I can haz cheezburgher. We have practically taken them over. We are even more popular the Hitler parodies - and that's saying something. Not forgetting the website Cats that look like Hitler or blogs about cats like Jan's Funny Farm or blogs written by cats like Harry Spotter. Harry is so exclusive that you have to ask to be permitted to read his blog, though he did once write a letter to me! Also worth looking at the Cat Blogosphere linkies where many bloggers like me leave their pawmarks. Cats like Mabel the Stroud cat are also taking over Facebook.
So onward and upward Victoria. Forget about space travel. That's yesterdays story. Let's just take over the internet completely.
George.

Dear George,
I need some advice. I am here with my brothers and sisters at Sunshine Cat Rescue.  I am looking for a home.
Every now and again a human, or sometimes two humans at a time, turn up and take a look at us kittens. How am I going to choose the best human?
What should I look for? They all look rather the same to me - very little fur except at the top of their heads, loud voices, and strange smells. The women seem to have scent coming from their bodies, while the men (at least the ones with bald chins) have scent coming from their faces.
What is even stranger is that none of them can purr. They can't even miaow properly. And they are awfully clumsy.
Which one should I choose? And how to I make it clear to a dumb animal that he or she is the chosen one?
Yours anxiously
Riley.

Dear Riley,
How wise of you to get advice before making your choice. Choosing the right human is probably the most important thing you will ever do in your life. And there are ways to make sure you get the best one.
Don't judge on looks. Judge them on temperament. Humans that are middle aged or even disabled can sometimes make the best pets. While young humans are fun; they are a big commitment. And they are more likely to be badly behaved.
The ideal human pet speaks quietly, moves slowly and handles cats gently. It doesn't matter if they are rich or poor, but it matters how loving they are. If they love cats, the more vocal ones may make noises like "Aahhh" or "Isn't he sweet."  Or they will just look longingly at you.
So how do you make your preference clear? Walk up to the human and rub against their legs, if you can. If you are in a cat pen then walk right up to the bars. Gaze upwards to the human. Humans, unlike cats, find a long gaze irresistible. A glance across a crowded room  often starts a human love affair.
So look long, purr loudly, and (if they come into your pen) climb on to them! That usually does it. Almost every human loves a kitten!
Yours
George.
PS. And start training them as soon as you get into your new home. A well trained human is a purrfect pet.

Easter eggs: why can't I have one for myself?

Dear George,
I’m not sticking my tongue out at you; I’m sticking my tongue out at my “mummy”.
I’m once again very upset with her. It all started yesterday when she got two packages with chocolate and goodies from a dear friend from overseas.
I’ve seen stamps and labels with cats on the packages so I thought they were for me (I know this dear friend loves me more than she loves my mummy) so I tried to open them.
Oh boy, did she jump shouting that I’m not allowed chocolate? I wasn’t going to eat chocolate but I wanted to see what else was in there. She hid everything away.
I went to sleep very, very sad! Today I’ve seen her boiling eggs and dipping them in red liquid dye. They came out quite bright red and shiny and I thought this was the perfect time to play and have some fun. So I jumped up on a chair and started pushing them one by one over the table. Whoa! You should have seen her face staring at me in disbelief!
Of course she overreacted as she always does. She said the eggs were for Easter and turned her back to me. So I stuck my tongue out at her (as you can see in the photo how mad and upset I was). Now what? Should I talk to her again?
Should I crack eggs with her on Sunday? George, do you think I misbehaved?
Happy Easter to all
Fluffy

Dear Fluffy,
Ninety nine percent of the time humans are plain wrong. But for once your human was in the right. We cats shouldn't eat chocolate. It contains theobromine which is poisonous. It's even more poisonous for us than for dogs. Luckily, unless it comes in ice cream or chocolate sauce, we are less likely to eat it in the first place.
Greedy dogs sometimes swallow down a whole box of chocolate and need veterinary treatment urgently.The more expensive the chocolate, the more cocoa there will be in it, and therefore the most theobromine. 
Hard boiled eggs are a different matter. Personally I like a little egg - maybe just a little lick of the plate after breakfast eggs. My predecessor Fat Ada used to eat them raw, biting into the egg carton, cracking them with her teeth and licking up the yoke. She had learned this when she lived on the street, breaking into houses through the cat flap and  burgling their kitchens.
You did nothing wrong. You communicated your natural feelings to your human. She was mean minded enough to ignore them. I suggest sulking all through today (Easter Saturday), then lots of love and purring at the moment the painted eggs are cracked at Easter. It might work.
Love
George
PS. I am intrigued by your reading matter. High Society - about cats on roof tops, no doubt - speaks for itself. But why are you reading about dogs?