A New Path

This post first appeared on Blogger (erinthecatprincess.blogspot.com 10.2.18 )


This weeks story is…………………. A New Path.


The long winters nights had taken their toll on Erin’s enthusiasm. She resigned herself to the fact that winter couldn’t be rushed or otherwise coerced into departing any sooner.

She had even contemplated burning more wood to start a local global warming effect and kick-start spring. The thought of Mrs Hudson wielding an axe was however sufficient to put paid to that idea. Of course if she had chopped down any she’d be planting many more in their stead to ensure the palaces carbon footprint was neutral.

What this carbon footprint was, she wasn’t sure. She certainly hadn’t on her many daily trips around the estate hunting, and visits to mice in need, come across and strange carbonised tracks. She duly surmised that you only get tracks if your carbon footprint is so heavy it leaves a mark on the grass. Ergo, she thought, the palace must be doing OK. But then it occurred that she didn’t want to go too far the other way in case the footprint was so light the palace floated away. After lunch that day, being a weekday, she resolved that she and Mrs Hudson would go and tie the palace down, just in case.

Erin strolled into the parlour that evening, in search of a bite to eat and a chat with Mrs Hudson. She found her dozing in the warmth of the range, that sat slowly cooling down from the days batch of nip scones and bread making. Her feet were soaking in a cooking pot in which a small goldfish lazily swam and nibbled at her bunions. In her hand, looking quite precarious, sat a cup of tea adorned with a straw and a lopsided umbrella.

“Mrs H, are you awake?” Erin placed a cold paw on her ruddy cheek.

“Yes, Erin dear. Just dreaming of being on the beach with waves lapping at my feet and a cold drink in my hand. Can I get you something before you go out on the night shift? Maybe a slice of cheese and a draught of that new Red Lion No-Nip™ tonic drink. Guaranteed nepetalactone free! Fun without the fizz, they say. Tried it myself yesterday and, bar an urge to lay on my back and have an itch, didn’t have any adverse effects at all!”

The thought of Mrs Hudson rolling around, wanting to be itched or not, wasn’t an image Erin wished to encourage. Best say nothing, she mused, and get on to the business at paw. “Hmm, well maybe another time Mrs H, but for now I am bored and need a new challenge, maybe a new career. What we need is a brain storming session. Maybe you could rustle up some notepads and pens, and meet me in the library, shoes on, in say half an hour. Bring a flask of something hot too, if you will, with a sprinkling of nip.” With that she jumped off the table and headed up to the library to cogitate the meeting ahead.

And so a short time later, we find Mrs Hudson and Erin in the library, studying the jobs section of the London & Regional Society Cat Gazette. Between them, on a low coffee table, sit two mugs of steaming nip cocoa and a half eaten plate of dainty sandwiches.

Mrs Hudson crossed out one vacancy with a look of despair on her face. ” Erin dear there is no way I can allow you to be a parking meter-maid. That is NOT the thing for a young princess to do and you don’t get to keep the money in the meter, either. No, we should steer clear such things. In the olden days I would have suggested entering the church. Or being a governess for a some young family in need of a mature upbringing. If you pick a warmer country like Spain, it would save loads on heating costs and we could get a discount on the sherry too!”

Hmm, well the thought of entering the church, Mrs H, does have some appeal. I mean the mice are supposed to great sport, being extra quiet, bar during the hymns. And one of my ancestors found favour with the Vatican by removing an evil Cardinal from their midst. Yes it does sound a plan, all but for one thing. I fear the Queen of Spain is still harbouring a grudge for my forebears pillaging and plundering. Word on the plaza is that teams of Spanish Inquisitorial Cats are, as we speak, looking for the map and treasure of El Creamado. And a bounty remains on all my line who dare pass into Spain. It’s a risk I am not prepared to take, Mrs H, as I value what remains of my ears. Though if queen and country call me, I will always answer. Of course I will have to finish my naps first.

Deep in thought, Mrs Hudson took a slow bite from her sandwich. With a sudden squeal of delight, she flung her arms out at Erin and shouted “I have it!” Such was her vigour, a slice of spam with a lettuce leaf and slice of tomato attached, flew out of the sandwich and across the table, landing unceremoniously at Erin’s feet with a cold damp ‘flooping’ sound.

“I think, Mrs Hudson, that you do not now have it, in the sandwich sense, though I now do! Thank goodness it wasn’t ‘slaw or a chutney, is all I can say. Pray tell, my good housekeeper, what is it that you DO have?”

Mrs Hudson blushed a radish red, and scooted round the table and gathered up the filling. Having popped it back into the bread, she took another bite and settled back into her seat. “Well what about something that keeps you closer to home, then dear? Maybe the Royal Poet Laureate or one of Her Majesty’s Ambassadors. You could represent the village, maybe? We do seem to have a lot of international guests on the blog these days, and it could boost international trade too.”

“I do think that is more in line with my standing, Mrs H, for sure, but as you know I am not one for putting myself around. The quiet life for me rather than the glitz and glam of socialites. Of course if we get our movie made and maybe get published I would have to make select PUBLIC appearances. No as good an idea, I think maybe something a little less assuming. Lets look through the books here and see if we can come up with an idea?”

Mrs Hudson choked back a gasp as she looked at the many tomes lining the walls of the small library. “I think I best get some more sandwiches then. Looks like we’ll be in for an all nighter!”

By the time the clock on the mantle struck midnight the library was aw

ash with open books. Mrs Hudson slumped back into the wing back chair and sighed. “You know dear, I thought surgeon would be right up your street what with your aptitude with them there claws. Well it’s witching hour, so I best scoot to my bed. No good comes of staying up late you know, and I do wish you’d be more like a normal princess and keep daylight hours. Only villains and spies are out at this time and look at all the adventures and risks they take. Nope I do think it’s time we went digital high-tech.

Maybe you could just get a surveillance system instead, one with those laser beams like that nice young man, Mr Bond, was demonstrating. As long as I doesn’t have to do back flips and crawl under them to get to the lavy, I don’t mind.”

Erin’s face lit up. She trotted over and jumped onto Mrs H’s chair and rested her paw on her arm. “You know Mrs H, you are quite an inspiration to me….. sometimes.”

“I am? Well that is good to hear especially so soon into my employment. Remind me dear, what is it I’ve inspired you about?”

“Well yes of course you do. I think you have just given me the answer to my new career. OUR new career as I will need a sidekick to help tackle matters for me.

Mrs Hudson suddenly frowned. “You haven’t chosen to be a footballer, have you? I’m sorry, but I draw the line at getting into a huddle and having to wear body armour. A corset is bad enough when you’re my age!”

“No, not a footballer! Heaven forbid, though you may need something a little protective for what I have in mind. What I thought we could do is some undercover work, Mrs H, and I don’t mean laundry either. Something we can do under cover of night, pardon the pun, and still be home for breakfast. Maybe start our own service, a secret service for those cats in need and who want complete discretion. Why stop there, governments and the famous will be our customers too, and nothing too small. Or too large, especially if it’s a particularly juicy mouse, sorry I meant case!”

“Oh my, this all sounds so exciting, Erin. Will I need a cape and a mask? I have a raincoat, and I could cut some eye holes in my sou’wester and pull it down over my eyes, if that helped? Or are you thinking something more along the lines of that Iron Man and jet packs?”

“I think the less flying we do Mrs H, the better. For now at least I think we should stay earthbound wherever possible.” The thought of her housekeeper in charge of a broom, let alone a rocket powered suit or anything more advanced than a vacuum, made Erin’s whiskers twitch. “I think if we have to travel, then we’ll take the Bentley, or the bus. Remember we need to inconspicuous at all times. Plus I’m fairly sure we need a pilots licence for that sort of thing.”

“Yes that does all sound rather sensible, dear. We wouldn’t want to get done by the police for speeding or not having the right insurance or licence. I’ll nip down tomorrow and get a bus timetable from the Post Office. Wouldn’t do to start a covert case of national importance and miss the bus, now would it.

“Best not get too ahead of ourselves yet, Mrs H, we haven’t even got a name for the business yet. I was toying with Detection, Investigation and Espionage Incorporated, but DIE Inc seems a little bit, how should I put it…. NOT subtle.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have a name, Erin, if we’re that covert. And we certainly should have code names rather than use our own. You could be Agent E, and I, Agent H. Hows that sound?

If its OK I’ll have some business cards and embossed and letterhead note paper done in the morning. And if you leave your pyjamas and cape out I’ll stitch name tags in for you.” Mrs Hudson smiled and got up to leave the room. As she reached the door she turned and smiled sweetly at Erin. “Breakfast at the usual time, Agent E?”

“Yes that will be lovely, Agent H, thank you. I do however think we should forgo the name tags, I really don’t want folks thinking we are fresh out of kindergarten. Though if we’re going high-tech, maybe you could have a chip fitted?”


To be continued……….





Wow, has it been a year? …. no can’t be….. no…. really? that long? WOW!

Do you think I should celebrate or something, have a party maybe? like a birthday party but without the birthday bit, but with all the trimmings, you know, nip, cream, nip and cream?

What’s that peep? a few pals too maybe? Yup that sounds good. We could invite the young lad Shadow from around the corner, and that lovely couple Pebbles and Lola from the big detached mansion North of the Palace, you remember, with the water feature and the large fleshy and tempting fish, not that I paid much attention you understand. purrs

What’s that? invite everyone everywhere? Mouses! Are you mad peep? think of the postal charges, not to mention the printing costs. Our mail lady would be going everywhere non stop from now till next year, in fact by the time the invites have been delivered it’ll all be over and she’d have to back here to deliver the next lot.

I mean, I don’t know how she manages it. Every day except Sundays and holidays, off she goes, rain sleet, snow, and tidal wave, treading a well worn path through the estate to deliver the mail. Never flinching in the face of the Palace lions, or the sundry guard dogs dotted about neighbourhood. She, like the Pony Express of the old Wild West, always gets its man. Hmm…that doesn’t sound right, maybe it’s The Mounties always get through.

What’s that peep? Its the Canadian Mounties that always get their man?  Well I never, who knew they deliver the post here too, heck that’s one very big delivery round, and that’s on top of chasing all those bad guys through the snow. Believe me that isn’t easy I can tell you, I’ve tried with mice and it takes a certain sort to do that, not that the Mounties chase mice, no ma’am, that’s up to the unmounted Mounties cat. Hats off to them all I say. purrs

What’s that you say peep, I can email everyone? Well why didn’t you suggest that before, that’s a grand idea, will save loads of paper and a forest or two, and all I’ll have to do is pay the postage. purrs

You know a party goes better with a celebrity, I wonder who I could get? There’s that lovely new cat, Felix, from Huddersfield, UK who has recently been promoted to Senior Pest Controller at the train station, doing sterling service and has been fast tracked to a top job. Now that’s what I call a go get em sort of gal!

Hmm… on second thoughts she probably won’t be able to come due to the last train times, and there is the small issue of the Palace’s station having been closed these last few years. Mouses!

Well well, a year, actually its a bit more than a year but still, a year on, who could have thought….

What’s that peep? I haven’t actually said what it is a year on from? Ooops! sorry folks, I best advise that on 23rd of January 2015 I published my first ever blog post! Yup 33 posts and a year (and a bit) later, here I am.

You know if it wasn’t for you, my fellow bloggers, you who inspired and encouraged me, I wouldn’t be the Princess that you see before you and read about today.

Those early days in the year were very touch and go, I had some close shaves, and I’m not speaking about being, well, you ladies will know what I mean. There were times when things were rough at the Palace, when I had too much on my paws to handle, what with peep and papa’s illness. Those times take a lot of strength, resilience, and they also need friendship too. These were things peep didn’t have so it all had to came from me and my new pals in the wide world of the blogging family.

It was a lot to ask (which I wasn’t) and even more to do, for a scared cat off the mean streets. Thrown into a position of great responsibility with no training no back up to turn to, it was worse than having kittens. Mouses!

Now on that point I am reliably informed by Kitipedia, that the expression “having kittens” is a peep expression for being frightened. Heck, seeing a peep have kittens would be enough to scary me into having kittens too. So again I say, Mouses!

Anyways, I posted a lot about these times, in real time as it were, as a way of de-stressing and sharing. It’s true you know, what they say, a problem shared among a few hundred is a problem… hmm… not sure on the math on that, but it’s a lot less. purrs

Seeing my blog gave peep a chance to see things in a different light, from another’s perspective, and achieve a balance of sorts.

Now peep doesn’t always read my blogs, in fact in the early days peep positively frowned on the idea of me using the interwebnet, as it was called back then. Mind you that could have been the incident with my Pal that Pays up the Amazon and a rather large bill for cream, cheese, and nip. Or maybe it was the time I broke his new lap pot, or the time sparks that came from the printer.

But with regards the latter, that was absolutely nothing to do with me, and that pile of treat crumbs found at the scene was just circumstantial, which I think means they were round. In any event, but specifically this, they were round, hanging round that is, in the printer. Who knew that crumbs collected that way, probably have the same Union as the toaster.

In those early days I pretty much kept the blog under wraps or often under the bed (and once actually in the bed) as a sort of pet peep project, something to unwind to, bit like Dr Watson did when he wrote up the adventures of his pal Sherlock Holmes, Private Eye. Those two Victorian chaps had a whale of a time and worked well together, though at times they disagreed, they always got their man, like the Mounties, though I’m fairly certain Mr Holmes and Dr Watson didn’t deliver the mail. purrs

There were of course also the funny days to write about, like our very own nosey neighbour cat, Bailey, who provided tons of entertainment, not to mention plenty of exercise for peep on account of all the running around the Palace that needed to be done chasing that fluffy lad. I swear peep has never been so well exercised, least ways not since Mr Rat came to play…

Then last Easter we had 3 rabbit visitors, or maybe it was one rabbit visitor 3 times, who knows, but but them bunnies were all over the palace. Well as the old saying goes ” A rabbit isn’t just for Easter, its for keeping the peeps shoes warm, dusting under the sideboard and generally having a fun time.” Though I did draw the line when I found it in my own bed. Mouses!

And there was even murder well a lot actually, (peep can always kill a good joke) and more than a modicum of chaos, a sprinkle or three of misunderstanding, and possibly more than a half pint of cream and nip to top it off.

OK OK, maybe it was… ahem… a bit more than a pint, but I haven’t a problem, just want to clear that up, I can stop anytime, and do, especially when the cook hasn’t been shopping. purrs

Of course no write up of a year would be complete without an adventure, and I discovered a fiendish plan by Metric Mice to to take over the world and make everyone and everything square. Frankly judging by peeps dress sense I think they may have made inroads already, but with a copy of Cosmopolitan Cat to paw, I will turn things around, possibly twice just to make sure peep has washed behind the ears!

Well there you have it, a year (and a bit) gone by. A year of contrasts and emotions. With great sadness we learnt of the loss of a great Adventure Cat and friend to us all, Nissy, who slipped OTRB.

You know sat here now, I can’t help but feel that there won’t be a shortage of adventure wherever Nissy is, nor for that matter nip and cheese, and no doubt a few Grammar Mice thrown in for good measure. Mouses!

From that loss came Seville, Nissy’s brother, who brought his own magical wisdom and wit to lighten our way, what a guy!

Anyways, together with you all, peep and I have made it through bad times, worse times, sad times and found ourselves sharing many a happy tale from pals across the world.

What better way to start another year than how we ended this last one (and a bit), with a smile and happiness for all the good and surprising things that come from sharing and caring.

Thank you all, and here’s to the next year (and a bit) (and an extra bit, being a leap year and all) and all the times we can share. purrs

What’s that peep? a letter? for me? WOW! my first bit of fan mail…. let me see…. best read it now in case it needs a reply…

Hmm, it’s from a reader, one Mrs McLitter of  Lower Nether End. It reads:

“Dear Dr Who producer.

With regards your recent article entitled “New Who?”, I do rather think that you have missed the point of the television series, and the whole space time continuum thingy. Being a Time Lord, I suspect, mitigates the need for earthly diet foods which would, I imagine, have little impact on an alien time traveller, though indigestion may be a risk. In any event, and not wishing to point out a big flaw in your plot, one would only need to have to go back in time, or regenerate to lose any surplus weight gained. 

As to the new monster called “peep”, I mean, do you really expect us to believe that it could be foiled by a mere Brussels sprout? Please, get a grip on reality, and try harder next time.

Regards from an avid fan.

I. McLitter (Mrs)”

Oh well, I suppose you can’t please everyone…… purrs


Now as I promised Santa I’d be extra good, I thought maybe I should try to be a new me, and that’s when the advert struck me.

Well it didn’t actually strike me, not in the physical sense, no ma’am, I’m way to nimble on the paws for that, ninja quick actually, but best not say too much about the night job. Suffice to say no tubs of potato salad, or indeed any other vegetables were creeping up and assailing this Princess’s personage, absolutely NONE.

Though there was the time when some Brussels sprouts escaped their shelf in the fridge and bounced off my head, but that was a mere trifling incident.

Technically it was has become known as the “Trifle Incident”, and had absolutely nothing to do with the bowl of cream on the next shelf, categorically nothing, promise… it was just a test of the weight distribution differential and flexibility co-efficiency curve of the shelving! That’s my story and I’m sticking to it, bit like the jelly, custard. and more than a few sprinkles. Mouses!

Anyways it struck me whilst perusing peeps shopping, you know I do have to do the accounts and must periodically lay on all periodicals not to mention check the cream and taste the treats, hard job but it’s what I’m paid for. Well on that fact I must interject myself, if that’s possible, or is it digress? hmm that’s one for later I think, buts as I was saying before I interrupted myself, I don’t actually get paid.

This is a sore point, bit like peeps finger was when he tried peeling that last Brussels sprout at Christmas, feisty little chap and nearly made it to freedom but for timely intervention of yours truly. Its a hard and diverse job at the Palace but I wont ever let it be said you’ll find sprouts roaming the corridors molesting the guests, can you imagine the smell. Mouses!

Now peep #1 keeps promising that I have an allowance, something for emergencies, new outfits or a rainy day, peep says. Personally I have my suspicions that means an umbrella, however peep is insistent that there is a bank account with my name on it. Well, when I say my name on it, peep had to write it on some white sticky tape on the front of the passbook as those bank peeps wouldn’t let me have my own account, on account of me being… well, you know… a cat!

Personally I cant see the issue, I mean with retina scanning I could verify my identity. Heck I do also have rather interesting features…. like my charm, ninja stealth, and witty personality, not to mention my own blog!

Alas this wasn’t enough to persuade the bank, so peeps was left to be officially the official unofficial keeper of my purse, or should that be the officially the unofficial official keeper. Heck all the red tape is beyond me, suffice to say he gets the pass book to the umbrella fund and I get some cream.

Now getting back to the whole shopping thing, I couldn’t help but notice that the Palace fridge has been staked to the rafters (the Arctic fridge spider in residence was none too happy I can tell you) with with tubs of healthy yogurt, healthy cheese, and healthy sandwiches that peeps had bought for the post Christmas diet.

Yup, clearly the waistline was feeling the pinch, again and things were bulging were ne’er they should. To be brutal, once more peep had put on the pounds and spent quite a few more on diet food.

So there they all sat, those morsels of slimness, all still shining and new, in pots and wrappers of white and pastel shades, looking, nay staring down at me proclaiming so prophetically “New Me! New Me!” Actually what they said, and when I say they said I don’t mean they spoke to me, that would be a one way ticket to the funny farm, which is next to Nut House. That by the way is where my pal Nutt the squirrel lives, and frankly quite an apt name, though from what I can gather there are no nuts (of the edible kind) in it, on account of them squirrels burying them elsewhere.

Anyways those there dieting products were actually all saying “Eat this and be a New You”. Could it be true that peep could become super slim, happy, interesting, good with computers have dress sense AND have a sparkling personality? Well if it could I definitely would buy shares, in fact I would personally get peep some more, using peeps Pay Paw account of course, heck if I can’t do that for my peep what sort of pal would I be. Mouses!

But what of me, a New Me, would I like Me if I changed, and if I didn’t could I change back? Serious points for a Princess to consider. I mean I’m pretty good as I stand, and nap, so do I really need to change that much? If I did, what if others don’t like me? would I need cosmetic surgery and a new identity to hide from the public glare.

But a girl has to feel good and look good too, for one’s own self esteem and dressing well is one way to impress and express ones confidence, and a coat this good doesn’t come cheap or easy, no ma’am, it takes a heavy investment in daily care, tons of practice, and lots of naps to make sure each hair is laid just so, and more than a little… er… moisture to keep me as smooth as, well, me!

I need to Feel valued for the “Me that I am”, to feel ones peep appreciates the hours spent putting food on the table. Well maybe under the table… Oh OK so it’s under the bed and in the bath, but that’s just being picky, and not the point, its the time and thought that goes into preparing the food, and the shopping too. All those mice don’t grow on trees you know, birds maybe but not mice. purrs

Then there are the rabbits and sundry insects that I bring to the palace to help liven up the decor and the dark evenings. I mean, have you ever tried catching one of those little guys in mid flight? I’d love to see peep try the aerial maneuvers.

Oh my, no on second thoughts maybe not, ballet was never peeps forte, and even negotiating obstacles in the Palace halls is a disaster. Heck, I’ve had more nip mice, toys, and fresh meals trodden on and in than I’ve had hot dinner mice. Mouses!

Back to the subject to hand, and I do need to do something, to make myself better, to improve and make life better all around. The magazines are all about how this and that will make me a new woman, how this dress will make me slim and that yogurt will make me lose weight feel good and fill me up. Heck I even saw the other day in one of the glossies that you can have interior design that will, you guessed it, make you look a New You.

All great claims, especially for the food, and maybe more than a bit of salesmanship as frankly, if you read the labels on these products they’re usually just as slimming as the ordinary varieties, and often worse, certainly for the pocket.

Now it’s not that I don’t like looking good or feeling good, no ma’am, that’s right up there with the cleanliness is next to good nappingness, but really I have the best suit of clothes a girl could ask for, and all for free. In fact with what nature gave, a good diet and daily grooming and exercise it’s all a girl needs, well that and the cream, cheese, and nip.

What to do, what to do?


That will be more loose change I have to pick up later today! I really must get peep a kitty coin bank….

Hang on a mo! all this time I’ve been thinking about a New Me as being the outward me, you know, the Princess with sleek black hair, dazzling green eyes and an umbrella fund. Of course, there is another Me, the inner me that keeps back the emotion when hard things are to done, when peeps sick or in need of support.

I was reading this article about a neuroscientist who says that us cats don’t love our peeps as much as dogs do. Apparently Oxytocin, the brains love drug, is way way higher in dogs than in cats after we play with our peeps.

Now I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen dogs get excited, and it seems like it’s every thirty seconds, at the mere mention of the w-a-l-k word, or a glance at the lead, so its no wonder its higher in dogs.

Those guys really just don’t know when to stop, whether its licking faces or jumping up and down, or both! In fact I’m surprised with that much love drug whizzing around they don’t fall in love with their tails, or chair legs and the like. Mouses!

Now in my mind it’s not that we cats love less, it’s that we love selectively and with care and attention, where deserved in fact. Now my peep and I had some issues when I was rescued, we were both a bit stand offish, reserved, and in truth both were and are scared. That was why Santa said I hadn’t initially made it into his book, as I hadn’t bonded. It was me, I know now that I had failed to make that bond and to keep it, but it was so difficult to trust a peep when once your were free and then confined in a cold heartless palace.

It can be a difficult time for peeps and cats when first we meet. For me, given my social standing at the time, fresh off the streets with my kittens, I was un-trusting from years of hardship and also fright and pain. These are lessons in life, and ones that are hard taught and not easily changed.

Peeps forget this at times, but those out there that have shared their lives with strays will know what I mean. It takes time and trust, and most of all input from both parties….

You know the truth of Santa’s message was that I need to make changes to improve myself, to be better. What of course he meant was not the outward me, the Me with raggedy ears, but the inner Me. Beauty comes from within, from the heart and mind of the individual, and just as importantly those that look upon them. Fail to see what lies within, and we miss most, if not all of what there is love, like, and cherish.

Well, there it is, the answer is clear. The New You or New Me dependent on which side of the fridge you’re in… oops… sorry, on, is all about a change of mind rather than a change of physical diet.

Heck if it was that easy peep kind would have sorted all its problems years ago, “eat this yogurt and grow your own hair back” or  “have this sandwich and see the weight drop off”. Sounds good doesn’t it, but there’s no such thing as a free meal, and there’s always a price to pay.

OK now for a plan of action:-

1) I need to give peep more time, more attention. I could do more chin rubs and definitely more sleeping on the bed, old smelly stockings permitting. I really must insist those get put in the laundry room,

2) Hmm, maybe I could play more, just to get peep into the swing of things. A game of Cat and Mouse would be good, or Mouse Trap even, with live mouses of course!

Best stop at two things though, don’t want to overdo it just in case peep gets too tired, or thinks somethings wrong. Also I do need to re-arrange my schedule, I can’t just drop everything………can I?

***NEWS FLASH*** Its official! UK dogs suffering from depression from the short walks caused by all the wet weather! Now when was the last time you heard of a cat complaining about having to stay in and have a nap?


Well so much for a white Christmas!

Whilst my pals around the world are basking in the sun or having that lovely white stuff called snow, we at the Palace are having rain.

Not the odd shower, no ma’am, an odd shower would maybe be fun, depending on how odd it was of course, and assuming it wasn’t odd in a crazy kind a way, like raining cats and dog crazy or squirrels making nut pies crazy, cos that wouldn’t be fun. Mouses!

On the other paw, raining mouses might be be fun. purrs

No, odd in a funny sort of way would be good, or interesting at least. Maybe if it came in colors that would be fun, pink would be nice, freshen things up a bit in this dreary and frankly sodden time.

In fact my peep #1 said that there is a peep expression about viewing things through rose tinted glasses, but apparently this means thinking something is what it isn’t or is better than it is. Now this sounds somewhat daft to me as what you see, pink or not is what it is, surely? I mean if I saw a blue dog I wouldn’t think that dog was a red herring. Well maybe if it was in an Agatha Christie novel I might, as apparently they figure quite often, though suspiciously they were never red or herrings!

Now I do like pink, especially roses, but not the thorny ones. Heck we all know what happens to Princesses that get pricked by a rose!  And whilst a long nap sounds great, and a beautiful prince sound OK (those guys can get real hard work later in life), I really don’t want another seven mouths to feed at the Palace or any more ‘hi ho!‘ singing going on. It wasn’t until the noise abatement order that I managed to get peep to stop singing in the shower. purrs

Anyways, I would happily view things through glasses, rose tinged or not, but as a cat with natural poise, elegance and 9/9 vision, I don’t wear glasses. Can you image the problems getting them to stay put with all the acrobatics, grooming, and napping, not forgetting our swivelling ears. Of course I could wear swimming goggles, and thinking on it, with all this rain it may well come to that. Mouses!

Of course us cats could have contact lenses, with rose tint, but with all our eyelids it could be a bit awkward, and we’d be forever taking them in and out all the time, every time we nap in fact, maybe twenty times a day. purrs.

No, on balance I think best forget the whole glasses thing, at least for me anyway.  Peep #1 on the other hand needs them all the time, and I may well suggest rose tinted instead of the seemingly blue and gray ones that color peeps life, which is never helped by the rain and the long winter nights.

Now apparently peep suffers from SAD as well as a depression, which ironically meteologically speaking is where the rain comes from, via a cloud and large watering can. Hmm, in fact the more I think on it, maybe there’s a link between the two and peeps is actually causing the rain! I just hope the depression doesn’t get any worse as the moat is nearly full and the Palace lions were asking about rain coats.  Mouses

Anyways I digress, this SAD thing is a Seasonally Affected Disorder, and not as I thought as a result of  being Senior And Daft. Sort of comes about when peep doesn’t get enough sunlight, a bit like grass going yellow and dying if it gets covered up too long. Fortunately I’ve seen no signs of peep going yellow, though there have been times, especially after sampling the dry white, when there’s been more than a hint of green and grey.

What’s that peep? my digression is actually a digression of a digression you say? Hmm… seems maybe I have a digression too far or is that two too far? Hmm I think I’ve digressed again which would be three too far. Mouses! is there no end to the digression, a bit like the rain, which is where I started.

Now this here rain, which before you ask, isn’t pink, has been coming down so much that the plants think not only has a spring sprung around them, but that spring itself has sprung and its time to get growing again. In fact those daffodils have started to pop their heads above ground and its way too soon as we haven’t had the frosts yet or any of that nice white snow stuff.

I just loves the idea of having snow at this place, the Palace place that is, and not ‘this place’ as in the fish as that would be spelled differently and the ‘i‘ would be very much out of place as would the plaice be out of place, literally a fish out of water. But then again, with all the rain and global warming maybe not. Mouses!

Mind you, I saw on the Internet (so it must be true) that in some places it has been known to rain fish! Yup actual fish… Mouses! No not fish like mouses just fish, better clear that up, as there’s a big difference between the two, one being furry and the other having scales.

Hmm, best check with Miss Description on that, as why they’d want to weigh themselves is a mystery to me, unless it’s so they know which size tin can to wear? purrs

Anyways, back to these airborne fish (who clearly don’t qualify for an upgrade to first class) which it seems that have been known to be alive in the skies, least ways until they landed, oft in far flung and waterless lands. Ouch! that would really hurt and one heck of a way to beat customs, huh.

Yup, even in the deserts people have been assailed by falling flounders, menaced by mackerel and walloped by whales! ….. OK so maybe not whales, but you get the gist.

Now seems like those there fish are sucked up from the oceans by strange weather forces and get caught up in the clouds and then get deposited where they least want to be or are expected. Bit like a rogue taxi driver. Mouses!

Whats that peep? it’s started snowing?  Its actually snowing! Whoopee…. I’m off out to have a bit of fun, see you soon….

30 minutes later….

OK it can stop now. It absolutely can cease and desist with the snowing and drifting and whole white thing, now, or anytime sooner. In fact it’s boring and positively, well, a white nuisance and way too cold and plays havoc with the whiskers and fur, not to mention my claws. I’m fairly sure they’re not meant to be that color. Mouses

In fact I can’t see anything out there to recommend the snow. Absolutely nothing, nil, zilch, zero.

OK the Palace looks vaguely twee, if you squint and it’s dark, but nothing like those postcards or festive chocolate tins. And that snow is playing havoc with the gargoyles and guttering, not to mention the solar panels which have stopped solaring or whatever they do!

And as for the estate, well there’s going to be one BIG mess out there when it thaws, and I’m not going to be the one to tidy it up. For starters I didn’t order it, and we haven’t a dingy, and this princess doesn’t wear waders, not for anyone. Rubber is just not the fashionable thing to be seen in. Mouses!

On top of that, when I thought it couldn’t get worse, the Palaces sheep were not happy, no ma’am. They were contracted to look cute for green and pastoral scenes, spring Easter and the like, and this snow they say, is definitely not in their contract and NOT showing them off to their best. In fact, they said they’re going to be bleat to their agent! Who knew sheep had agents? Just hope they aren’t fleeced on their fees. purrs

In fact now I think on it, which I am, being a thinking kind of Princess and all, I’m thinking of migrating, yup somewhere warm, with light showers and NO snow and plenty of mice. Oh, and NO fish, I don’t want to go sunbathing and end up battling a Bass!

What’s that you say peep? place called Utopia? **** rattling of keyboard **** Sounds good, in fact purrfect. What’s that peep? “Cats would like mice you say”, well that’s OK, I do anyways, served with a light cheese sauce, there’s nothing finer.

What do you mean “Not that sort of like“? …. WHAT!…. you mean like as in ‘get on with each other’ sort of likeMouses!

Whatever next, flying fish? Heck not even I would believe that fish have wings, thats right up there with talking birds, and peep #1 remembering to get the shopping. Mouses!

Well enough of this banter, I’m of to straighten my whiskers and to draft strongly worded email to the Weather Office. Maybe I can get the snow dry next time, heck if they can do it with the wine, why not, and whilst they’re at it maybe I can have it in a nice shade of pink, English Rose would be nice, and a small bit in green for the sheep! What do you think……

The Palace

Well what a Christmas I had, I do hope you all had a good time too?

Santa dropped off a fabulous present for me Christmas morning, it was just what I wanted, all in purple and NO tassel’s, which would clearly have got way too wet.

In fact the new Palace sign is purrfect and says it all, by which I mean it say “The Palace” which is after all what it should say, being The Palace after all. Purrs

I am hoping peep will get around to putting it up soon though, on account of getting the post delivered correctly. Now maybe its the sheer size of the old place that confuses them or maybe the lions that put those delivery peeps off, but things just seem not to turn up. Take for instance my electric can opener.

OK, fair point you cant as I don’t have one, and if I did I wouldn’t actually want you to take it as I would only just have got it. By it of course I mean the electric can opener, with gold trim, page 92 of the catalogue, which would have been here had it been delivered, which it hasn’t. Just saying peeps, just in case one should happen to turn up unexpected like. purrs

In fact I may have just mentioned, possibly hinted at in one of my posts. Speed up efficiency and streamline delivery of things. What every kitty should have, for sure, that and unlimited supply of nip and cream. Oh and boxes too. Not forgetting  also that lovely 3 year old mature Canadian Cheddar.purrs

Anyways, there have been many great blogs posts over the Christmas season of Peace and Goodwill, in fact it turns out from my pal Seville’s blog, link:- “The Mysterious Christmas Ornament”, that Rudolph had been kidnapped and held hostage by  some wicked snowmen, in an attempt to ruin Christmas. Can you imagine?

Thankfully Seville and his sister Mason saved the day, nay, in fact saved the night when they freed Rudolph and he was able to help Santa. No wonder he was short on time when he visited me. Mind you, I do think Santa can stop time, so must have one of those stop watch things.

And just the other week Maxwell, over at A Tonks Tale published a truly great post, link:- “Maxwell’s Theory of Everything” on the theory of wormholes manifesting around the litter tray. It has to be said the guy looked so cool in his white coat, and shirt and tie. And I do like a well dressed scientist. purrs

Anyways there was a slight technical hitch and, well, things seem to have gone slightly awry on the calculations front. But as we all know this science stuff isn’t an exact science so a little egg on face in the early days is to be expected, and as they say, you cant make an omelette without cracking eggs.

Now why they say that I don’t know, as you wouldn’t have an omelette without cracking them at least it would be a very hard omelette, and more than crunchy, which begs the question did the omelette come before the egg or was it a chicken that came before the omelette.. Hmm complicated, I’ll get back to you on that once I’ve checked with a few hens. purrs.

Well, a new year and a new blog, and I’ve promised Santa that I will be even better this year than last, not that I’m bad, heck no, I am a model princess, and seek daily to help better those around me at the Palace and in the surrounding environs.

In fact I don’t let a day go by without trying to improve health and safety for my peep and the staff.

Just the other day I enacted a new cooking rule in the kitchens, namely “Thy must not leave the wok unattended in the kitchen so that 4ft flames burst forth and singe the ceilings.” Yep, and given what ensued I had to enact another law which said “Thy must not run through the palace with woks exuding 4ft flames, or flames of a great or lesser size.” This was closely followed by “Thy must not leave burning woks on the drawbridge by the wood store and near my cat door.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the chef trying exotic cuisine, heck we live in a multicultural society and I was rather keen to try Thai stir fried mice in a creamy white nip sauce, but I do have a limit on the amount of charcoal I like in my food, not to mention the amount of non stick coating, that quite frankly wasn’t, as it had come off the wok and was now stuck to the food. Mouses!

On the plus side, and there is always a plus side, we have a new weapon in the Palace’s arsenal, and any unwelcome guests, (including double glazing sales persons) should they happen to get past the lions, will now be met with the promise of a well singed Chinese stir fry meal with nonstick coating and 4ft flames. Mouses!

I have to admit one other good thing that has come from this culinary disaster, is that peep has instructed the chef to cook vegetarian food from now on, with a view to saving the environment and the Palace from untold disaster and to improve his well being.

Now bearing the latter in mind, Christmas day promised to be quite interesting on account of the kitchen staff had been given the day off, and so I had little hope of anything hot being served and a real possibility that peep may well have starved. I say starved, of course peep would have had beans on toast and a dry white wine, but that hardly counts as festive. purrs

Anyways at times like this I am always ready to jump in and take charge of matters, well being head of the Palace comestibles ordering team, and Estate Manager, I feel its my duty to have the fall back position covered, just in case.

Now as mice are currently in short supply, no doubt something to do with EU regulations on working hours and an apparent housing shortage crisis in the UK, I wasn’t able to make the usual festive contribution. So two days before I sent peep out to purchase a vegetarian chicken roll with potato and Brussels sprouts (six of only as you don’t want too many of those little guys in peeps diet, oh no, pesky little things, cause no end of digestive issues. Mouses!

All was going well until peep forgot to bring the shopping home on the last day of work. Hmm, best laid plans of Cats and Mice huh, never trust a peep to do a cats job, next time I will order in. purrs

Anyways, with the fall back position compromised, the reserve fall back position was to send peep out shopping again. Now from what I’m told, as I never go shopping myself on account of the shopping trolleys being badly sized for us cats to sit in, and the absence of a personal shopper, shopping on this day is more akin to a Nightmare before Christmas with bedlam in the isles than it is a polite social occasion. Mouses

So, some four hours, three stores, and many miles later, peep returned world weary, bruised and haggard, well more haggard than usual, with one chicken roll, 4 Brussels sprouts and a medium sized potato. Things were clearly on the up, as four sprouts were clearly better than six in my book. purrs

Well it has to be said the big day passed smoothly if somewhat manically around meal times, with long spells, mainly between meals, where we all just napped. For the effort and hours involved in the cooking, boiling, frying and tending to catering inflicted wounds, the whole eating thing took about ten minutes.

As to the washing up, as peeps had got a new outfit and shoes especially to impress me, and dressed up (rather than the usual down) for the occasion, I thought it best if we forgo the washing up, just this once. Heck I’m not that hard a taskmaster, so just I got him up early the next day to sort. purrs

All in all this Christmas festival of Peace and Goodwill to all has been quite something for a cat off the streets who had experienced, like so many have and still do, the hardships and reality of abandonment, of cruel winters and little food for my kittens and I.

My first experience of Christmas was whilst I was in a shelter, and my second, as a newly found Princess, was with my peep. I feel privileged to have found somewhere special, twice in fact, and all it took was two simple acts of kindness.

In return I have brought much needed happiness to my new family and peep #1, and to those around. OK, I have to admit the local population of mice and sparrows may be a tad more worried than they were, but I am working on the PR side of things to minimize this, honest.

But not least of all, it has to be said, I have also brought a new sense of order and purpose to the chaos that was the Palace of old, a new hand at the tiller, a fresh broom to sweep clean the dust and debris of past lives. Which reminds me those cleaners need a talking to as even Sid, the Palace spider in residence in bedroom 9, has been moaning about the dust. You know things are bad when the spider moans about cobwebs. Mouses!

Well I suppose it’s traditional at this time to look back over the year just gone, which of course you would have to as it’s now behind us, so in keeping with tradition, I cast a backwards glance over the diary, which isn’t as easy as you may think, and can safely advise that all 365 days are accounted for. In fact some even twice on account of the flashbacks and a rather unstable space time rift paradox thingy that occurred in November!

Anyways 2015 was a long year, and often a wet year, and I spent many hours cogitating in hedges the cut and thrust of social problems and Nipnomics, not forgetting helping my peep through personal crises and poor catering skills. purrs

But through it all there has been one good thing, and that has been writing this blog and reading the experiences of many fine fellow felines, through their own good times and bad, across the globe.

It is truly a huge family we all share and reach out to when we blog. You can transcended the barriers of distance and cultural divides with the press of a key and can find help advice and approval from peers in such distant, and yet strangely so very close lands such as Canada, New Zealand, Brunei, Russia, and America to name but a few.

I doubt whether there are any politicians that could better what is achieved, the peace and harmony in this diverse family, that speaks many tongues but only one language.

As to the future, well I think I will let that unfold, like the turning of pages in some magical and long sought after book, received into the hands of an expectant child.

 I wish you ALL a Peaceful and Very Happy 2016….


 ….Purrs Erin


Entry for December 20th 2015

Dear Diary

Well so far this month things have been OK. We had a great meeting of N.U.T.S. and the vibe is that we have got things covered…. at least so far as our own Palaces are concerned. I have some doubts about young Nutts, my squirrel pal (and his info) as my pals on the blog say never trust a squirrel called Nutts, even with two T’s!

This festive celebration of Peace and Goodwill to All seems to be gathering pace and more and more of the outlying homes seem to be gearing up for things with ever more spangly lights appearing in windows. Even the trees have sprouted lights, no doubt to help the birds see their feeders…

This does raise concerns over increased risk of invasion by this red clad fiend Mr Claws or his pal Mr Cringle, but NUTS is ready to pounce, as every good Princess should be if called upon, and I have my best cute smile and claws on standby, just in case.

PS I have discovered mince meat pies DON’T contain meat, only old grapes and something call Sue T.  I am emailing Miss Description as we speak. Till a reply is forthcoming I would advocate only licking the cream off the top. E


Entry for December 25th 2015

Dear Diary

You’ll NEVER believe what happened last night, and what I found out! It all started on just before midnight…..

*******wave lines and backwards travelling in time*******

“It was the night before Christmas and all through the house Palace, nothing was stirring, not even a mouse.” CHECK!……Well as I am the mouser in residence along with other many numerous tasks I think its safe to say nothing would be. purrs

OK what else does it say in these instructions…

“Stockings were hung by the chimney”…….Mouses! that’s one mighty big fire hazard, and as chief fire warden in this here Palace I can say without any shadow of a doubt we do not hang stockings, nylons or anything sock like in appearance anywhere except in the laundry room. Absolutely guaranteed, ever since I discovered a mouse and several spiders taking up permanent lodgings in some under peeps bed. I put my foot down on that for sure, and in any case I couldn’t have my new hideaway and emergency pantry smelling could I. purrs

Whats next… “Children Peeps were nestled all snug in their beds wool duvets”, CHECK!…… In fact I checked the duvet personally not a couple of hours ago. As chief comfort, thermo dynamics and elasticity inspector I can safely say that that duvet is good for well at least tonight. After that I feel its my duty to re-evaluate and make fine kneaded adjustments, for peeps sake of course.

OK, that seems to be it on these old instructions I found about managing a night before Christmas, I think the rest seem to be pretty archaic. Talks about visions of dancing sugar plums in their heads. Mouses! they must have been nipped up for sure in those olden days.

Heck they used to have wild beast with antlers clambering all over the roofs. Its a miracle nobody slipped and broke the leg. And if they think that this Princess will be out inspecting the battlements and ramparts at this time of night in this day and age they have another thing coming, smacky paw I think.

Anyways, at least they didn’t have Mr Claws and Mr Cringle invading their homes, though clearly they did have good visitors, a peep called Nicholas apparently visited peeps that had been good, a real saint it says here. purrs

Ho hum, I think I will enjoy a last na… er… patrol of the fire side rug to check its flame retardency rating, and then turn in. Nearly midnight and I think…….

*****muffled thud, clattering sound of hooves and mild (this is a family blog after all) cursing*****

What the heck! by jimny were under attack!! best call NUTS….. Hang on I AM NUTS, er… well I’m not actually “NUTS” or NUTTS just the chief…. well you all know what I mean….

Now where’s that list of things to do… here we go…

1) Grab passport and plane tickets.

2) Grab supplies of Nip.

3) Grab supply of Long Life Cream.

4) Fill suitcase with fresh biscuits & copy of What Mouse & Mouse Hole magazine.

5) Suntan lotion.

Hmm… I think maybe this ISN’T my emergency plan but next years holiday list. purrs

Oh well, I’ll just wing it as the sparrows say…. Right dowse the lights and take up attack positions behind that there pile of logs, with clear line of flight to the front door and drawbridge beyond.

Hmm… that’s strange, the fires gone out…. bang goes my quiet night, best get peep up to light it again…

Anyways here goes……

******Further cursing clanking coughing and a cacophony of hooves******


Strange, that’s coming from the wood burner, I thought these guys came through the door! Best go and check….

Well I’ll be, there’s a face in the wood burner, yep definitely a face with a rather sooty beard. Well one thing for sure that chimney won’t need cleaning for a bit. Mouses

***** Muffled ‘LET ME OUT’……ERIN, LET ME OUT!’ *****

Well, I never expected that…. Best let the little guy out, cant let him sit there, not if I want that fire back on, and those coals must smart a bit too, could explain the red glow on his cheeks!

I gotta admit that I thought I’d be calling Fire & Rescue services to get the guy out, but it only took a flick of the paw to open the door and ‘hey presto’ like a genie out of a lamp he just popped out. Must have been those coals. Mouses!

‘Well Erin my lass, thanks for getting me out of that… er… jam. These modern stoves are a nightmare, I should have know by the shape of the chimney I’d have problems getting out. But you should have left the door open for me, just a bit and those coals smart something terrible. You cant imagine the er cream I get through not to mention the number of new suits I need and…’

“Erm excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but can you explain who you are and how you managed to get into my stove, not to mention how you got down my chimney, in fact now I think of it, how did you get on the roof with all the solar panels gargoyles and such like?’

Being a diplomatic Princess, I avoided the obvious questions as to how someone his size even attempted to squeeze into a flue, and why he’d chosen red which shows all the soot for sure.

‘Well Erin, firstly seems introductions are in order. My name, and before you say Mr Claws/Mr Cringle, is many things, but not a plump guy with bad dress sense who definitely shouldn’t have worn red down a chimney as it shows the soot, as SOME may think’.

“Er… um… whoever would think a thing like that? OK sorry I did,  but you DO wear it so well, and I’m sure I read, pardon the pun, that red with black spots is in this year. purrs”

And with that my guest just winked at me, and with a shake of his tummy and a tug on his beard all the soot vanished and his beard sprung back into a lovely neat clean mass. In fact, it reminded me of a nice warm duvet I had to inspect.

‘Sorry, where was Erin? Ah yes. My name is St Nicholas though around the world I have many names, but when it comes to it Santa will do just fine. Now to business….whats this I hear about you and NUTS  and an invasion, not to mention getting my, helpers arrested?’

“Well, a squirrel told me tha…”

‘OH MY WORD! Never listen to a squirrel, especially that Nutts lad. Nice boy, the shells there but the kernel’s a bit withered,gets a bit confused shall I say. Plus those squirrels have a real thing about Christmas and peeps eating all those nuts of theirs. Drives them crazy actually, “crazier than squirrel making nut pies kind of crazy” in fact. Hmm, must thank your friend Seville in Canada for that saying when I visit him later tonight, very appropriate….’

“You know Seville?”

‘Sure do!’

“My pal Seville?”


“Seville in Canada, the famous blogger and all round Gentlecat?”


“Inventor of Whisk Time Travel Technology, patented throughout the world and in ALL the nine cat kingdoms?”

‘Absolutely! and before you ask the next 3 questions the answer is Yup, Yup, & Absolutely, but not 24 biff bags, not unless he promises not to climb the tree!’

“WOW! how’d you do that? Is it some Jedi skill… or do you use distilled essence of mature Cheddar?”

‘Ah well that’s another story, as old as Father Time herself.’

“What, you mean Father Time is actually a lady! surely that should be Mother Time. How come shes a Father?”

‘Well it was at one of those office parties, and she came as a Vicar. One drink lead to another and before I knew it she was marrying off my reindeer, the elves not to mention some of the wooden toys. So the name sort of stuck. Bit embarrassing really, and peeps have sort of got latched on to it, and we know how difficult it is to get them to change anything!’

‘But moving on, Erin, we need to have a serious chat, and not just about the state of your chimney!’

“Oh… um … er… I really didn’t mean to have that last nip mouse if that’s what you mean, but the force was strong in that one, and I succumbed… And as to the incident with peeps coffee and the cream cleanser, I really didn’t know that was just for sinks. Mouses!, I suppose this means I’m off your Good list huh?”

‘No, not at all. Well, not really. Well, not YET anyway, but I need to help you understand a few things about the spirit of Christmas and to see whether you have been good or not.’

It was at this point that this Santa guy got got an absolutely massive book from his jacket. Which was really strange because for a book so big it hadn’t made the slightest bulge at all in his… er… finely clad svelte figure.

Opening the wooden cover, inscribed with every animal I have ever seen (and loads more I hadn’t), the pages started to flick over on their own. They settled on a page that was embossed with a gold letter E and a bemused look came over his face and then he stared down at me and frowned. I can tell you now being frown at by a fashionably dressed well proportioned 30 stone Santa (he does carry it ever so well) is somewhat a worrying thing.

‘Well this is most strange Erin, you’re not in my book, and everyone is in my book.  It looks like you’re lost.  Oh dear this is most strange, most unusual for sure. I’m afraid if you’re not on the list there’s no present for you or your peep’.  

‘You see when you’re rescued a bond is formed and from that bond your lives become shared and identities and fates entwined and the good or bad you both do affects each other and is recorded in my book.  Seems like you’ve not been rescued after all!  Oh dear oh dear, what to do… let me see…. Probably best if I just go, and you forget all about me and my visit little Erin, I’m sorry.’

I cannot tell you how saddened I was, in that instant my life had been dashed, to be told I wasn’t rescued, not connected with my peep, it was too much. I know there were times, at the beginning when things had been rough, and the pain of the many losses was locked in so deep we couldn’t communicate, and we both went off the rails. But those days were behind us now, surely?

And I swear, with a tear in his eye, Santa turned and was about to climb back into the stove when there was a stamping and clattering of hooves on the roof. I really do need to check the Palace insurance to see if we’re covered for such things as reindeer damage!

Anyways, at the same time the Palace door gently opened, and through it danced a single silvery snowflake, that settled on the now closed book clutched in Santa’s quite frankly huge, sorry, er… well proportioned and manicured hands.

Like a starters pistol the cover snapped open and, in what can only be described as akin to wind driven frenzy, the pages started to turn.

Well, you can imagine the look on our faces, yep even Santa was surprised. The pages raced through the book then slowed and stopped. As they did it seemed as though the air cleared and with it a Santa’s eyes opened wide as he saw what page was open before him, and once more he smiled, that big friendly warming and welcoming smile.

Looking up to the roof he let out an almighty…

‘Ho Ho Ho. Thank you Rudolf, thank you my friend, you are the clever one for sure!  Well it appears my little Erin that I’ve you pegged all wrong, you are a special little lady it seems, very special indeed. Seems like you wrote your story true, yup, I wondered when I read it whether it was, how shall we say, embellished, but appears not.’

“You read my emails? My book submission? Isn’t that sort of illegal, you know the whole privacy thing….. Hang on, does that also mean you saw those pictures of….”

‘Yup, with the gold trim, 240 volt.’

“What! and even the…”

‘Yup, even that. If you’d take a tip from a pro, I’d rather have the one with the purple, stands out more, more regal in fact. Not that I will get to see it there, but there will be a time when you have visitors who do.’

“OK purple it is then. And tassel’s? should I, do you think?”

‘Absolutely NOT, ruin the whole image, and get wet too.’

“OK no to the tassel’s. But if I may ask, why did you need to look? a girl’s gotta have some secrets after all.”

‘Well you see my little Erin, I get to see everything, from your dreams to your blog else how would I know if you’ve been good or not? I need to know these things to decide if a gift is deserved, and what that gift may be, or in deed if one should be removed. I can even see some of what lies ahead for you too.’

‘And it seems, as Rudolf kindly pointed, out that I must have missed an email and you HAVE earned a place, a special place it seems, in my book on account of…. Hmm, maybe I’ve have said too much, but what it means is you get to keep a little something extra. In your case you’re in my book under P, for Princess. You will have to work very hard from now on though, to keep your place, and I will expect good things from you everyday, and not just whilst your napping. And most of all you must promise to look after your peep in the coming months and years, more than ever before. OK?’


‘But now to business, we have little time and I STILL just need to explain about Christmas and to ask for your help.’

With that Santa knelt down and gave me the lowdown on the guys called Mr Claws and Mr Cringle and asked me to get the word out on the streets that these ARE good guys, doing great things for Santa. And yes some do dress like him to do his work in the run up to Christmas, spreading good will and Christmas spirit and helping charities raise funds for starving cats and dogs and all manner of good causes.

BUT when it comes to Christmas and those special presents, those gifts, that’s all down to the Big S (he said I could call him that, just the once) and the team back at SANTA HQ as he likes to call it, which he told me, ‘before you ask’, isn’t in Mexico or Spain.

‘Well that’s that explained, can you do that for me Erin the Cat Princess?’

“Me? Oh Me! you want me? Of course, absolutely consider it done, and I will put that Nutts lad right next time I see him, or sooner I promise.

‘OK, that’s good. Just one more thing……’

Bending down Santa whispered in my ear….something special, something I’d never expected to know, a gift I had never ever expected to be given, something so purrfect it brought tears to my eyes, then, and even now.

“Thank You Santa….thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

‘You are more than welcome, come and visit some time. You’ll find a way….ask your friends, they’ll help and no doubt have some fun on route too!’

With that, and the biggest smile I have ever seen, laying his finger aside of his nose, and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. Next thing there was a whistle and a clatter of hooves and I dashed outside just in time to see his sleigh rise, and looking down he waved and shouted ‘Happy Christmas to you both, and to you both a Good Night!’ and then they were gone.

“Wow what a guy!” I heard myself saying as I walked inside, not noticing the door gently closing behind me. I settled myself down on the hearth and pondered what Santa had said, and the things I needed to do.

As I pondered, I heard a whistling from outside, and looking up I saw the little silver snowflake float from where it had fallen and dance through the stove door which then shut behind it.

“Oh well, I will never get peep to believe this, not even in a million years. Best maybe keep this quiet, just in case he takes my nip rations away. purrs”

Maybe it was that silver snowflake that did it, a bit of Christmas spirit Santa left behind, but when I awoke the stove was fuelled and flames gently danced across the yule logs within. And there, on the hearth, embraced in the reflected warmth and dancing flames two present sat…..

******* To be continued, as caring doesn’t end at Christmas… *******

You know there is nothing finer than friendship, and the hope, trust and happiness that comes from it. Whilst we don’t have a tree or decorations, or anything fancy at The Palace, we have warmth, food, water and shelter and most of all each other. But so many of my kin live and die on the streets in winter for want of just those basic things, or those that have known such joys languish rejected or lost in killing shelters, without love and hope.

Santa gave me something special this Christmas when he spoke to me, he said he would pass on my love to my kittens, and those few words gave ME hope. Please do something special yourselves and pass on the gift of life, of hope and joy too to someone in need, whether four legged or two.

To all my friends across the world, to those that have helped and supported me with this blog and the problems along the way, I wish you all A Very Happy Christmas, may it bring you warmth, love, and friendship that lasts a whole year through….

Purrs Erin


Well it has to be said, I find myself waiting….

Waiting for what? you may say, and well you may what with free speech and all, and in reply I must say in truth I don’t know….

OK in fact I do and I don’t. In part I think I do though I may be mistaken in which case that’s the part that I don’t, but I’m not sure so I’ve been pondering. Pondering whether I actually am waiting for something that will come or in fact something that won’t come or maybe won’t come just yet, but will later on.

But there you go, that’s the joy of waiting for things like answers, inspiration as what to blog, or indeed buses. Not that I use buses, no ma’am, this Princess goes on paw, meet and greet, press the flesh and fur, that sort of thing. A Princess of the hedges and the streets for sure, and the wool duvet should anyone need a private counsel session, payment in nip and cream. purrs.

Writing this blog is a great thing to do, and we ponders a lot and sometimes things come to me and sometimes things don’t, bit like electric cat food can openers. I hear tell they don’t, unlike UK buses, come in threes on account of one being enough for any kitty who hasn’t one and would quite fancy that one on page 92 of the catalogue. Just saying peeps.

Now that is something Miss Description needs to sort out for sure, as there are never any cats in the catalogues I look at, and why isn’t there such a thing as a dogalogue, and what sort of creature is a Dia?

Anyways, mostly things to blog about come when I’m at work. Now before I hear shouts from my peep of “don’t give me that, your only napping” it may seem outwardly like I’m napping but it’s actually a formulated, mathematically proven, environmentally sustainable and economical method to ponder.

Further, I have pondered this very point, and as an amateur algorithmist and inventor of a new theory nay algorythm which can help solve many of the problems of peep kind and cats (including delivery of cream) but at the same time the create the possible collapse of Internet security, on line banking and nip futures, I’m fairly confident it works.

I shall post about my new theory and resolution to the weighty issue of P=NP (there’s a $1Million prize to solve it, you know) once I have pondered the ramifications to us all. The pros and cons as it were of a world without on-line shopping, a world where peeps had to go places to do things and more peeps could have jobs, serving electric can openers to needy cats maybe? purrs

Anyways, as important as nip futures and can openers are (especially those with gold trim) best get back to the blog at hand, and pondering things to write about.

I sits and ponders all manner of things, from politics to social problems and local miscreants such as that duo of Mr Cringle and Mr Claws I mentioned in my last post. Rest assured my friends that N.U.T.S. are on the case and will have it all wrapped up by the celebration of Peace and Goodwill will to all (especially cream delivery peeps and electric can opener service personnel) come the end of the month.

*****BREAKING NEWS….If you see red trousers and jackets appearing in closets in your home, you may well have the start of an infestation! Contact your local N.U.T.S. group or police who will help remove the miscreants for you before the celebrations begin apparently just after midnight is best. purrs ***** 

Back at the Palace, I’ve being doing an awful lot of pondering recently as to how best to sum up my life thus far, for my submission to the next volume of that totally brilliant book ‘RESCUED’. If you’ve not already read this book I do thoroughly recommend it for a present for someone close to you. Do make sure its someone close, so once they’ve unwrapped it you can borrow it back and have a good read yourselves, as this is an engaging, entertaining, inspiring, and moving series of 12 tales from 12 individual rescued cats, sort of like a lot of us. Most importantly a percentage of the sales will be going to various rescues, as nominated by the cats themselves. purrs

Where was I? Oh yes. “Write your life story”, that’s easy some will say, and in fact so said I when I got a missive from my friend the Gentlecat Seville (over at @Nerissaslife) that submissions were being sought. But when I actually started to look at my memoirs, my life and what I have done, it became clear that there was more to do than just scribble down notes and pass it over to the editor, and it left me pondering not only my tale but my tail too in the search of meaning.

I would need to write about a life that takes me from sleeping on tabloid newspapers on the streets and back yards of the city in middle England, to the couture glossies and being the Princess in a palace that I am today. No small task I can tell you, and a voyage of discovery it was too.

If you ever have to sum up your own life, its easy to put it down quite coldly in about 500 words and possibly less. But then, when you start to actually tell the story it grows, and grows and grows. A bit like my Christmas wish list. purrs

Well I’m never one for a short story as you will have gathered, so I eventually ended up with a story of gastronomic proportions, a massive feast of facts and figures and anecdote that wouldn’t have fitted in two volumes let alone the 5,000 word limit asked for by the publishers ‘FitCatInc’ in LA.

Yep, and so the whole pondering started again. The musing, thinking, dreaming and twiddling of paws as aspects of ones own life were tossed over and re-evaluated, dissected, rejected or reshuffled. Let me tell you this all adds up to a lot of pondering and many hours of labour in sunpuddles, by the fire, and on soft wool duvets. One sure does have to be a martyr to ones cause, for the hours are long and there’s no pay bar what you see on the page.

Anyways, after many further hours of near brutal slashing of hard wrought text, I sat down and counted the words. Here I must confess peep helped me, with his additional digits, (and when that failed, a handy word counting tool)  and you’ll never guess, go on have a guess…… OK some of you were near and a lot weren’t, I was still over 1000 words over! All one can say at a moment such as this is MOUSES! MOUSES! MOUSES!

How one can rewrite something and end up with more than the original is a point I also had to ponder, but being the pragmatic sort of Princess I am, I just popped it into my ‘ponder pile’ or ‘the pond’ as we now call it, and slept on it, or more accurately I pondered on the pondered pile!

Well I would like to say that, like the best stories, it came down to the wire and teams of ponies were dashing across the good ol’ US of A with a courier clasping the valued manuscript, dodging bullets and arrows and hindered in their task by not having an electric can opener. I would really love to say this as it adds so much more flavour and dashing do, but alas this I can not say as clearly there’s no electricity on horse back. I knew you’d see the flaw in that, I did. purrs

But it did get me pondering if I shouldn’t have just written a film script instead?

I would of course have to move to Hollywood and have another palace, apparently Caesar had one in America too, clearly those chariots got great fuel economy for sure.

Then of course there would be an Agent apparently there are very big firms specializing in these things, CIA for one. Sounds like that’s where all the brainy folk go too. purrs

I naturally set to pondering who would play me? Clearly casting would be crucial to the whole thing as its not a role anyone could pull off, no ma’am, there would be personal suffering, cruelty, humiliation, hunger and loss to name but a few, and all before breakfast, if there was any!

Who could portray such things with the feelings I had?

Had I been a peep there would have some great actresses there to take the role, Angelina Jolie, Sigourney Weaver, Milla Jvovich to name but a few. Alas not so in the feline world, where it tends to be just bit parts, a walk in here, a commercial there. No real scope in those ‘type cast’ parts to demonstrate the range of emotions we have when out alone on the streets.

But the more I pondered the more I realized my story was not just about me, a book or a film about my life, but about all the cats that get kicked out of there homes, abandoned when their peeps move, or are lost or have lived feral, as peeps say, and are then snatched off the streets to be killed in shelters when they could just be neutered/spayed and returned to live a life in peace.

So my story is of us all, and any one of us could fill the role, and each would have an adventure in their own right to share, an adventure to make us cry or laugh, and to make you ponder….

So if someone ever asks you to write your tale in 5000 words or less, give it a go as you will be surprised where it takes you, both spiritually and physically.

Well, I seem to have pondered too long and it’s time for my… er…*checks diary* ah yes, time for my second breakfast. But I have pondered this too and from now on I won’t be having a second or even third breakfast, instead I will be giving it (when I find peeps PayPaw account) to any friends in need at the shelter I was RESCUED from, The Woodside Animal Centre in Leicester UK, which survives like most do, big or small, without funding bar what they raise or have donated.

This Christmas, this time of giving and sharing, a time of peace and goodwill to all, please think of those lives that need your help, whether in a shelter or living rough, a meal can be the difference between life and death, quite literally.

Thank You

If you would like to find out more or buy a copy of a truly inspirational book, its called: “RESCUED The Stories of 12 Cats through Their Eyes  

Please follow the link below to find out more…I really don’t think you’ll be disappointed…

Click this Link to buy RESCUED via Amazon