Wednesday, 19 April 2023

Toffee Earns Her Entitlement




The old woman has just read this description of a character in a book: "She was swathed in a permanent air of unearned entitlement," and stared straight at me.

I have NO IDEA what she was implying. I admit I'm a smidgeon entitled. But "unearned"? No way. I have earned all my entitlement. For example, I bring lots of food into the house. Admittedly, most of it is still moving - but you can't have everything.

I also keep zombies away and patrol the house every day. The treat cupboard is a zombie-free zone and it's not my fault that the occasional packet of Dreamies may accidentally get torn open. Which leads me to another of my regular tasks, hoovering up stray treats - right into my mouth.

I also keep humans warm at night and regularly wake them at 4am so they can get an early start to the day.

So you see, all my entitlement is EARNED.






          
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Wednesday, 22 March 2023

Toffee Tries To Join The Circus


INSTAGRAM UPDATES: www.instagram.com/notsosweettoffee/



Dear Bill and Bailey Circus,
Owing to a contretemps involving the old man, a mobile phone dropped down the toilet and withdrawal of treat privileges, I am running away from home to join the circus. I have excellent organisational skills so I was thinking “ring master”. I will require a Winnebago to live in, prawns on demand and a velvet cushion to sit on.
Toffee
Dear Toffee,
Thank you for your application, if that is what it was, but circuses in the UK are no longer allowed to use or employ wild animals. Therefore, we reluctantly have to decline your application.
Bill and Bailey Circus
Dear Bill and Bailey Circus,
I am a domesticated feline with impeccable manners, so I take exception to being referred to as a wild animal. At least I wasn’t wild before I got your letter but I am now. In fact, I am livid.
Toffee

  • This is an excerpt from my next book, Letters From A Diva Cat. Coming soon! Until then, have a look at my current book, Not So Sweet Toffee. See below.




          
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Thursday, 9 March 2023

Toffee Wants To Hire In Some Muscle




There I was lounging about on the windowsill when I spotted the neighbour's idiot cat.

He's called Rajah and is the bane of my life. He pinches my food, leaves his smelly scent all over the garden and thinks he's sooooooo posh just because he has a smidgeon of Persian cat in him.

I'm too comfortable to move so I hall have to hire in some muscle. Anyone got a spare crocodile?






            
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Wednesday, 1 February 2023

Toffee Seizes The Day



The old woman is running around like a demented cod and shouting "carpe diem, Toffee" in my ear. Seize the day? I see no cod or carp so I'm not interested!

No, I'm going to build up my strength during a restorative nap. I think that's a much better use of my time than dashing around like a fool.

Lifestyle tips courtesy of Toffee!



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Friday, 13 January 2023

Toffee's Kiss A Ginger Day Complaint






Yesterday was Kiss A Ginger Day. Who on EARTH thought this was a good idea? I have to skedaddle pretty damn quick to escape the amatory osculations of my old woman at the best of times without making it official.

I spent all day trying to dodge her attempts to plant a smacker on the top of my head. I hardly got a wink of sleep - only 16 hours compared to my usual 18. 

This day should be BANNED for the sake of all gingers who don't want to end the day sleep-deprived and with soggy fur.

I. AM. NOT. PLEASED.




          
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Monday, 19 December 2022

Toffee Loses The Christmas Spirit


The costume the old woman has been looking at on the internet.


Hope you are all ready for Christmas. I've bought my presents. I'm getting the old woman a cardboard box and the old man a packet of prawns. They are sure to appreciate the thoughtfulness I've put into choosing their gifts.

Not that the old woman deserves a gift. I caught her looking at this cat costume on the internet. Word to the wise, old woman, if that costume gets anywhere near my body you and it are both toast! You have been warned...




          
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Monday, 5 December 2022

Toffee Talks About Acro-Cats

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Monday, 28 November 2022

The Hoomans Oversleep



My old man and old woman have been rushing around like blue arsed flies this morning after doing something called "oversleeping". They were tired because their sleep was disturbed by someone - ahem - zooming around the bedroom in the middle of the night. Whether that was anything to do with me, I couldn't possibly comment.

They eventually ran off to work at the rate of knots, glaring at me as they exited the premises.

The trouble with hoomans is that they waste so much energy doing things that don't need doing. For example, cooking. They don't need to cook. Open pouches, tins or packets of prawns (especially packets of prawns). Minimal energy expended on nutritious meals.

I found this on the internet and I would print it out for them but I'm conserving energy: "Hoomans should simplify their lives into energy intake (snack), energy conservation (catnap), energy restoration (snack again), more energy conservation for digestion (catnap again) and so on. Human eyesight is poor. It’s pitiful to see them blundering about, stubbing their toes in the dark, but their blindness is useful if you decide to snack on the hamster at midnight."

Wise words indeed.




          
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Monday, 21 November 2022

Toffee Goes On The Attack




In his head Rajah looks like this but he's nothing but a plain old scruffy cat.

Rajah, the stoopid cat from next door, thinks he's so grand because he's got a smidgeon of pedigree cat in him but let me tell you, he's nothing but an ANNOYING LITTLE TWERP with minimal hygiene skills.

What has he done to upset me now? He's breathing for a start but apart from that he crept into my house when the door was left open (YOUR fault, old woman) and stole my breakfast.

I have my revenge planned. I'm going to lure him into the garden by dressing like this. 

Scary, huh? Then I will...
ATTACK...
and peck him into submission. That'll teach him to tangle with Toffee. Little oik.



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Monday, 14 November 2022

Toffee Gets A Treat




My old woman decided to be "creative", a move that could only end in tears. My tears.  She decided to cook up a treat for me. For goodness sake, old woman, buy packets of prawns or Dreamies or chuck some cheese in my direction and save yourself the trouble.

She found a recipe for fish pate and proceeded to butcher a perfectly good whole fish. Why on earth she couldn't have used ready prepared fillets, like any normal person would do, I have no idea. 

You have never seen such carnage in your life. Bones and entrails all over the kitchen. Then she boiled it. I hadn't smelled anything so vile since I found a three-month old piece of pork I'd put in the garden shed and forgotten about.

My cue to skedaddle and hide under the bed in the guest bedroom. By the time I emerged, most of the fish "treat" had disappeared, leaving only a malodorous miasma lingering in the air.

"Here, have a few Dreamies, Toffee. The fish treat wasn't a huge success," she said.

Result!



          
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