Just after I finished my last post, I had a bit of a think. What if Rachel was right? What if I was portly, as she calls my sturdy build? Should I start taking regular exercise?
And I realised that I should, if only to tone up my lovely curves a little. So I'm going to run my own Bums and Tums class, several times a week. Each class will include exercise, a nutrition seminar (practical), rest and relaxation.
I've had two sessions so far.
For the first one, I went outside, and hopped up onto the wall.
I had a good look over into Next Door's garden. They are the people who Hamish and Scooter spy on through the bedroom window.
And then I hopped down again. I have to ease myself into this; no point in straining myself.
I invited Scooter to join in. He's curvaceous and gets called portly too.
Scooter said he wasn't a body fascist like some. He'd stick with his lovely curves, he thought.
So I came indoors for the nutrition part of the class. I checked the dinner dish and went back upstairs for the rest and relaxation session.
The following day, I tried the other wall. First onto the wheelie bin. A promising start, I thought.
And then onto the wall.
I had a good look up and down the other Next Door's drive. That's the house where Millie's Enemies live. She goes into their house to tell them that she is in charge of their drive.
I got a bit stuck under the weathervane thing. Rachel commented that Bums and Tums was just what I needed to focus on, and maybe reduce the nutrition class element. What nonsense.
I cooled down, hopped off the bin, and went inside.
I checked out the dinner dish as part of the nutrition seminar,and went back upstairs to relax.
I didn't do anything today. This exercise lark is a bit boring and repetitive, is all I'm saying.
Maybe meditation is more my thing. I'm good at sitting still, just breathing.....
The hard lives of four cats (and an interloper) surviving a totalitarian regime.
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Friday, 27 January 2012
Isn't that ok?
Rachel thinks I don't get enough exercise. She says I just sleep, eat, sleep, with naps in between.
Not true! I tell her. I also spend time thinking.
And washing. Then thinking some more.
Sometimes she carries me downstairs and dumps me in the garden.
I might stay there for a few minutes, and then come in through the cat flap.
I always check the dinner dish before I go upstairs to resume my nap.
What? What?
Going upstairs is exercise, isn't it?
Monday, 23 January 2012
Refreshing
Rachel has a little bottle that she brings out now and then. It has a love potion in it.
She sprays the love potion on our toys.
It makes them love us.
She sprays the love potion on our toys.
It makes them love us.
Saturday, 21 January 2012
Hand-me-downs
When I was a kitten, this teddy was my favourite toy.
We talked.
We cuddled.
We wrestled.
We snoozed.
I'm all grown up now, and I don't play with toys any more.
So Rachel gave my teddy to Flossie.
Rachel has to wash it more often now.
Flossie is thrilled to bits with her new teddy.
She says she's going to start collecting orange toys.
Happy for you, Flossie.
Me, I'm waiting for Spring. Then I shall start collecting frogs again.
I don't care what colour they are.
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