Here is an extract from the Storm Diaries and a couple of cute pictures.

 

21 Nov 2003

Today I went out in garden for first time with my mate Smokey.  He chased me around for a bit then I hid under the Bar-B-Q.  He can't reach me under there.

28 Nov 2003

Took a trip in the moving box today.  Found out it is called a car. We went to the vets. I was in that box with bars so I could watch out of the window as we went.  They took me out and the vet was very nice until he stuck something in my neck so I bit Dad hard.  "It's so you don't catch flu", Dad said.  Then the vet had a look at my back.  I have an itchy patch there.  "Come back in three weeks or sooner if it gets worse", he said. Not B..... likely. How long is three weeks so I know to hide? 

6 Dec 2003

Went on a walk on lead to the post box with Dad today. Smokey followed for a while and I was OK then Smokey went back home so I wanted to too, but Dad wanted to post a letter so picked me up and carried me the rest of the way.  I wanted to look around on the way so climbed onto Dad's shoulder.  It's quite fun riding up there.  The children at the school by the post box asked if I was a parrot. Cheek!

9 Dec 2003

Went out in garden while 'Dad' was building his new shed.  Dad thinks I can't get out of the garden because he has blocked off the gate.  Dad pulls me out of the tree which almost overhangs the garden wall.  Nearly made it.  Got dirty paws and made footprints all over the front room floor.  I thought they looked very nice and don't know what all the yelling was for.

10 Dec 2003

I was stuck in my box again today.  We went back to the vet. Hey, it's not three weeks yet is it?  The vet had a look at my itchy patch and then did something very rude with a small tube.  I bit dad again.  "Temperature is normal", the vet said. He doesn't know that my temper's not.  "Take this cream and put it on twice a day", he said. 

We got home and Dad rubbed my itchy spot for a while. That was nice but after he stopped it itched even more so I licked it but it did not taste good but I have to lick it because it itches.  Dad kept telling me off for licking then he grabbed me and took hold of the sweetie box and took out a piece of cardboard.  Oh good I thought he is giving me a new toy.  But he wrapped it around my neck and taped it together.  Dad said it would stop me licking and he was right. I was so busy trying to get the cardboard off that I forgot all about my itch. Dad took some pictures of me.

One good thing though, that made me laugh my socks off -Smokey came in from outside and took one look at me, howled and took off upstairs.  I haven't seen him for a couple of hours now.

11 Dec 2003

Dad still keeps rubbing my itchy spot and then bunging that cardboard round my neck. Today, though, he said he could not get the cream through my fur so he got this thing that made a buzzing sound and rubbed it on my back. That was nice, all vibrating over my back.  It was a bit cold after though and when I lick my back there's no fur!  Dad said that was better so it must be ok.

18 Dec 2003

Dad brought a tree into the front room! And then put sparkly bits all over it but every time I go near it they shout 'no Storm'. Every time I go past it though I have a bash at one of the sparkly bits at the bottom  'cause it makes a nice jingly noise. They have put sparkly bits all over the ceiling too.

20 Dec 2003

Started sleeping downstairs instead of on dad's pillow because it's great fun when the sparkly things fall down in the night because I can have fun and there is no one to say 'no Storm'. Smokey joins in too!  Then we have a sleep and about five in the morning me and Smokey chase each other all around the house, across mum and dad's bed and up and down the stairs.  I know it's five o'clock because dad keeps saying "for goodness sake it's five in the morning go to blinking sleep" or something like that.

25 Dec 2003

Woooohooo.  Lots of lovely coloured paper all over the place for me to play with!  And I got some new toys, so did Smokey.  It's great here!  It's a cat’s life.

 

Storm (UK)

You can read Storm's other article here:  

A Morning Kiss

A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.

Janet F Faure

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