My retirement from a hectic life in service into Tom Cat Towers all went very smoothly. My new personal staff, Maid, in her new uniform, was on hand anxiously scanning the street for my chauffeur driven car to arrive. I was an hour late and she was frantic.

I was impressed with the big brass bed with the designer duvet that I will be stretched out on whilst Maid is in attendance. She lies on a very small part of the bed as I need my space. The mirrored wall in the bedroom is just amazing. I lie and look at the handsome chap who stares back at me for hours. He is always there just looking back at me with a twinkle in his eye!

I now have a brother, Gabion, who spent the first ten days following me round, ears back just yowling at me.  Not sure what he hoped to achieve, but everyone ignored him. He jumped on the bed for a chat with me one morning and soon became my best friend. He was with me when I went to inspect my new gardens. We walked cheek to cheek like young male lions on the Savannah as he showed me the collection of catnip Maid has collected on her travels all round the world.

I sit on a big fluffy blanket on the arm of a chair and watch TV with Maid as she plies me with tempting treats and grooms me.

Retirement is perfect. Life is perfect.  Except for one thing …

Chav Cat.................

Chav Cat is a very old, very bad tempered, very porkie tortie who grumbles, swears, spits and hisses all the time, and I mean all the time. She never stops. She is just a massive furball of foul-breathed aggression.

Gabion, just for fun, goads her which makes her even more sweary. He slithers up to her when she’s not looking and has a sneaky sniff of her pelt which sends her into a cloud of spitting bad-breathed bad language as she flails at him, killer claws extended. Not that she will ever catch Gabes, he’s too quick!

Chavvers is most definitely not a ‘lady’ I wish to tangle with. The ladies I mingled with when I was in service as an upmarket stud, were the creme de la creme. Their pedigrees and breeding went back centuries. They were dainty, groomed to perfection and their manners perfect. They were a delight to meet after first being assessedm matched and introduced properly as per the social circles I mixed within. I thought all lady cats were just that…. Ladies. The ladies I socialised with pecked very delicately at their kibbles and gourmet cat food.

Chav Cat snorks them down like an industrial hoover. She doesn’t chew them and I don’t think they hit the sides as they continually pour down her fat throat to expand the lardy saddles round her bottom and saggy tummy!!  She lies on her back like a grounded seal, snores and dribbles - most unladylike.

Chav Cat looks like an explosion in a kitten factory - there are so many different sorts and colours of pelt on her. Father, or fathers’ unknown. (She cannot even put her paw on her birth certificate!!). She is as rough as a bad tempered old bear. She has let herself go somewhat since arriving in Tom Cat Towers. She is as fat as she is long. She comes in from forays into the garden covered in twigs, leaves, slugs and other assorted wildlife. The neighbourhood cats are in fear of her as she is a professional thumper and will use her paws to box anything with fur that dares to set paw in our garden.

Sadly, she has fallen for me. She makes doe eyes at me, and follows me round trying to sniff me. She chirrups in a very rasping growl at me in what she hopes is a seductive manner.  Sadly, her social skills and background are lacking. She has even had a clutch of illegitimate, rather ugly kittens after a night out on the catnip.

Clearly, she recognises class, but she is batting well above her very considerable bulk. I have no intention of making kittens with her and am soooo glad I was neutered before I came here!

What is really worrying is that she has now started to lie on the big brass bed which Maid and I sleep on. She lies on her back like a scabby walrus with her dirty paws on display snoring like a warthog. If she thinks I’m snuggling up to her she has another think coming. I am off the bed before my paws have hit the duvet when I see that lying there waiting for me!

Thankfully Maid shoves her off the bed, but it’s a bit of an effort. Chavvers is so heavy it takes considerable effort to pick her up and evict her bulk from the bedroom in a haze of bad-tempered squeaking and chuntering. If she piles any more weight on Maid will need a crane to lift her onto the floor.

I need a plan to deal with this one!!

Lord Reginald Desmond Vagabond of Tom Cat Towers

I’m just about to raise my martini glass of iced milk, shaken not stirred, after my pre-prandial, evening sashay down the garden, past the impressive row of catnip bushes as I reflect on my past few months here at Tom Cat Towers.

My life as a secret agent was sooo hectic; all those stud duties and pedigree cat shows. The work (and hours) involved in ensuring I was in tip top condition and, of course, servicing my adoring lady cats with whom I left a clutch of adorable cute kittens was quite exhausting and so demanding. I’m glad it’s over as I have settled into a life less public in Tom Cat Towers with my personal enclosed garden and international collection of catnip bushes.

I now wake up with a whole day of pleasure and pampering stretching out before me. My new P.A. gently wakes me with a small dish of delish brekkers, then a few cuddles and a bit of grooming before I lie on my back as an invitation to her for a good tummy tickle. Then it’s time for a chit chat on the bed with my P.A. as we plan my daily social calendar and indulge in delectable nibbles along with a bit more of a groom and a whisker rub.

I enjoy a bit of a snoozles in my personal moglu. Then it’s playtime with my new bro; Gabion. He usually calls on my moglu to wake me up. We have a swift hour chasing each other noisily round Tom Cat Towers and playfighting. A quick ten minutes chasing my collection of ping pong balls round, clattering them into furniture and under sideboards, before a nap on the arm of the chair with my P.A. and some chew sticks as she watches the news on TV and catch up with what’s going on in the world.

I then decamp to the patio windows to supervise the clouds of blackbirds, starlings, sparrows and wood pigeons which come right up the glass to look at me whilst eating raisins.

If the weather is clement, I may poddle down the garden to the ancient hedgerow to watch, fascinated, the various mice and voles who pick up seeds dropped by birds and squirrels from the feeders higher up in the hawthorns.

So, all in all, I think retirement suits me. As I was shaved just before I retired from the public glare, my fur is coming on really well and P.A. is saving my groomed off fluffs in a bag as says she will make a pillow for us (humans do have some bizarre habits). I have put on weight, I didn’t realise just how physically demanding stud cat duties and personal appearances at show really were, they certainly kept me trim and in shape!!

Treats are on hand whenever I get the munchies, dispensed by P.A. into my welcoming chops. I must admit the range of treats I have access to is quite impressive. I almost get the impression my P.A. has cut down on human catnip, red wine, in order to spend more money on fabulous epicurean titbits to hand feed to me.

Then at the end of the day, when P.A. is fast asleep and I have been watching the comings and goings in the garden until almost dawn from the comfort of a wicker chair by the patio window, I will silently and discreetly jump onto the big brass bed and snuggle up to P.A. so I am there when she wakes up and she is there for me when I wake up to start another day of pure indulgence.

It’s been three months since my retirement from public service, and I don’t miss my life in the public glare one bit!!

Being a stud cat meant entertaining lady cats, not of my choosing and to be honest it did get a bit tedious having to perform ‘on demand’. Even if I blow my own trumpet, I was good, jolly good! And my resultant  kittens were exquisite! However, I envied those feral toms who could make kittens for love, with a lady of their choice. Then I looked at the Porkie Tortie Chav Cat and wondered which tom in his right mind chose that to make kittens with!!!

I sometimes miss the pedigree shows. My adoring public looking at me whilst I sat for hours and hours, telling me how beautiful and handsome I am, as I sat in my show cage waiting for the inevitable rosette for Best in Show and assorted clutch of other prestigious awards. But I don’t miss the grooming. Hours of bathing and preparation to put a show cat shine on my whiskers ensuring everything was just perfect. I now love having a good grub round getting 'bit's in my fur that Maid has to tease out for me!

My new Maid has a shorter grooming routine which involves bribery. I allow her to give me a good comb whilst she shovels Dreamies and Temptations into my appreciative mouth. We are a good team!.

Maid. They do say you should keep a distant relationship with your staff. Not get involved. However Maid is so besotted with me. She absolutely adores me. Her levels of service quite exemplary, so much so, that I have promoted her to my Executive P.A.. It seemed more appropriate as she is there 24/7 and does literally everything for me. I must admit I am totally in love with her, I follow her round like a little stalker!

Just after retirement I needed to have my vaccinations updated in order to have my holidays. I was booked in with my predecessor,  Dumpty’s personal surgeon; Saint Ben of Park House Vets where I had a thorough Moggy-MOT and it was found that a couple of rotten teeth needed taking out.

My surgery took place on a Friday so my P.A. could come from  the place called work to collect me. Then she had the whole weekend to pamper me. Trouble was, when she picked me up Saint Ben said I was still ‘away with the fairies’ with anaesthetic!  I must admit I did think about demoting her that night to skivvy for lack of sympathy!. My eyes were dilated and for some strange reason I felt the need to jog. I jogged from room to room, round and round in each room, just jogged and jogged for ages without stopping. My P.A. just sat with a glass of red wine and laughed. Something about getting the drugs out of my system!

AND she had a sneaky way of putting my anti biotic pills into me by pretending they were my Dreamies. Every pill, every time, went down without a bat of an eyelid. I almost admired her slight of hand!

I had my ‘after surgery’ check up to make sure everything is going well, with Nick the new vet at the practice. I got something that wasn’t included in the bill; a hug, and it was really lovely. Made me feel a whole lot better. When someone gives you a genuine, heartfelt snuggle. It just makes everything feel so much better

So, I’m now in tip top condition, my fur is growing back and I’m settling into the routine at Tom Cat Towers rather nicely. I poddle round the garden and inspect the extensive collection of catnip bushes planted along the ‘Dumpty Memorial Walk’ which goes right down the garden to the ‘Tushtots Terrace’ (I wonder what will be named after me when I’m gone, hopefully many, many years in the future?!).

Gabion who also lives here at Tom Cat Towers is my best bessie, even though he is a bit rough when he plays and accidentally bit me on my head! He's half my age and twice my size!

But my most favourite part of retirement is sitting on the arm of a chair with PA watching TV, or snuggled in her arms in bed as we snoozle the night away together.

Retirement suits me!!

Lord Reginald Desmond Vagabond of Tom Cat Towers

Having settled in at Tom Cat Towers, my house-mate, Gabion, has quite oddly taken to sitting on the marble hearth, looking very intently up the chimney. Apparently, ‘Christmas’ is on the way. I have never heard of Christmas, let alone had a Christmas in all my five years as a stud cat, so am quite fascinated, as Gabes seems rather keen!  

According to Gabes, Santa Paws comes down the chimbly with pressies. But, it’s only on one night of the year. Just one. And Gabion isn’t too sure which one it is as he's a bit of an air head. So he is hedging his bets and sitting there every night in the hope of catching a glimpse of Santa Paws … until he nods off.

Gabes is sooo excited. Last year he had his first ever Christmas and he said it was BRILLIANT. Santa Paws bought him sweets, treats and toys and catnip playthings and EVERYTHING. His eyes gleamed as he told me.

Gabion has stated, very knowledgeably, that Christmas is all about presents. That's it. Just presents. Santa Paws just showers cats with pressies, lots of them, and treats and toys and EVERYTHING.  Gabes can be a bit flaky ... and very greedy.

When I was parachuted into Tom Cat Towers in April, it was rather like an arranged marriage. The human and I didn’t know each other, and she had just lost her beloved Himmie, Dumpty, after 10 years together and was heartbroken. Clearly, I had no idea of the routine which Maid, the human, and Dumpty, her very demanding Himmie had got in place. I was an ex-stud cat and show stopper about to retire from public life. So, we needed time to get used to each other and work out what we needed to make this new relationship work. It was a bit of a gamble!

However, all in all, we are rumbling along nicely and have our own routine. I have trained her on grooming. Previous cat loved it. I’m hit and miss. If I’m not in the mood, I’ll clamp my teeth onto her arm, not nastily, but just to let her know who has the upper paw. But mainly I blackmail her to give me copious amounts of ‘Dreamies’ in return for a good scruff round with the comb. I am on a mission to rid the world of ‘Dreamies’, by eating every single one ….  myself!!

I love it here, and have changed Maid’s role to Exec P.A. as that seemed more apt. I don’t require 24/7 attention, but do need my social diary organising. So, we are happy with each other. In fact, we are so well suited, we are totally in love with each other.

So, this Christmas thing which Gabion is just obsessing about has set me thinking. I have it all now. I came to Tom Cat Towers with nothing but a huge heart full of love, not knowing what to expect in my new home, not knowing how much I would be loved and adored. Turns out that I have the best home ever, and found someone to love. Why should it just be Gabion and I that receive pressies from this Santa Paws character who Gabion is going mad about? Wouldn’t it be nice if our human had pressies too from Santa Paws too?

And then it hit me….

Maybe I should be Santa Paws and get my human a present for Christmas for giving me a home, feeding me, keeping me safe, fed and very, very loved.

When I told Gabion, he looked at me completely stunned, as if I’d lost all my whiskers. Only cats get pressies at Christmas he informed me rather grandly. Not humans.

But I think I now know what my first Christmas will mean to me. I will be very loved. I will be fed, (turkey apparently, according to Gabes who knows everything about Christmas) and my tummy will expand enormously. My human will be home all day, slobbed out in front of the TV so I can stretch out on her as we watch ‘rubbish’ on it and I’ll be stroked and cuddled and loved as she treats herself to a bottle of cheap champers!

So, my mind is set up. My human will have a present, and if Santa Paws doesn’t give presents to humans, then I will be her Santa Paws!

I have been on a mission, to find the purrfect present for Christmas for my human Exec P.A. But what can I get her? I can’t buy human catnip, red wine as I am under 18 years old. She doesn’t do chocolate, but does do pork scratchings. They are too unhealthy to consider. So, what could I give her?

She doesn’t wear collars, with bells or glitter … hang on. Not a collar, but a ring. She hasn’t got a ring. That’s it. I will get her a ring to wear all the time to remind her of me. Each time she looks at it when we are apart, she will think of me. That's it!

I have searched high and low and finally, I have my present. This is it. It’s just exquisite!  It has tiny blue pawprints, to remind her of her favourite boy …. Me! Crystals are set around the whole ring and inside it is inscribed: -  

‘When I’m with my pet I am complete.’

It was a one-off, there are no more, so it is totally unique ... and classy. It's perfect!

I am in the process of hiding it for when Gabion makes his grand announcement that Christmas has arrived. We will know it's approaching when a plastic tree gets put on the table and twinkly lights are turned on.  Trouble is, how will I get it under the tree as if Santa Paws himself has left it. I can’t get down the chimbly as I’m too porky after all the good food here at Tom Cat Towers. I need to sneak my present under this little Christmas tree for my human to find. She won’t know it’s from me, she’ll think Santa Paws left it there amongst the presents he’s left for Gabion and me.

What I will do? When the night arrives, Gabion will be soooo excited looking up the chimney, but he will nod off as he always does. Then I have my chance to just swiftly knock the present under the tree. Then if I nod off too and Santa comes whilst we are both snoozing, my present will already be there for Santa’s to be added to!

What do you think? Do you think she’ll like it? Please let me know what you think of my Christmas idea.

Lord Reginald Desmond Vagabond of Tom Cat Towers.