What a racket!

Woken early with the roar and clatter of the green waste truck from the Council.  Nothing unusual for a Wednesday. Every Wednesday it is the green waste or the recycling,  plus the general garbage truck.
Lynettea went over the road to collect the bin, only to find it was still full. Someone had moved it to the end of the string and a car then parked too close.
I knew she wouldn't let that alone and wheel the full bin back inside. She rang the east waste people and shortly afterwards their truck roared back up the street and emptied the bin. All good. Then she went over to collect both bins, as the red top bin for ordinary garbage had also now been collected. Oh no! The truck had smashed off the top of the red bin!
She rushed in, past me. I was trying to relax on the lounge. Sleeping was now impossible. More phone calls. She is now telephoning the Council to complain. They removed all the line markings in the street months ago and haven't replaced them.
I sometimes think that if humans did the work properly in the first place they wouldn't need all those people to answer complaints. That is the cat view.

Writer's Rest

A brief pause for reflection in my writing life.

Comparing ME to DIAMOND

I think it is rude to compare the merits of one person to another. Particularly if you are standing in front of them.

I am standing here, or rather I am wrenching at Lynetta's lead trying to get her inside, while she is talking to a man who was jogging past the gate until he saw us.

The man stares at me and says he remembers Diamond, when he lived near here many years ago.  He tells Lynettea that his son, who was then a little boy and is now at University, still remembers Diamond.  Apparently they were friends. They both stare at me while I wrench the lead again.

Lynettea says that Diamond passed away at 16 and she now has me and I am not as friendly.

I wrench at the lead and she says, 'Sit, Sasha,' as if I was a dog. Reluctantly I sit.

They don't think I am as good as Diamond.
I think that it is very rude to talk about me like that. As soon as I can,  I take Lynettea inside.
She needs a lot more training.

watching television

Another evening of television watching my favorite programs. Nature programs are what I prefer.

I just woke up

I took Lynettea for her walkies.  The sparrow was definitely not in the garden as I spent some time checking.  We could hear the background noise of the racing cars.
 I felt hungry, so when I brought Lynettea inside she got my meal straight away. I had jelly style premium cat food, as usual and a plateful of my dry foods, for a mature adult neutered male that lives indoors, and my dental food.
As soon as I started eating,  Lynettea shut the door to the back of the house and I heard her slashing at the grapevine and watering plants.
Instead of looking at her through the window, I fell asleep on the lounge and only woke up just now when she tucked my soft scarf around me.
I wonder whether I should get up. It is much later.
But perhaps I won't.

A Racing Driver

Today I can hear the booming noise of racing cars. They are racing in the Parklands around the city. I wonder what sort of cars make such a loud noise.
It is like a swarm of bees magnified a thousand times.
'They can't hurt you, Sasha. Don't worry,  they are far away.'
Why does she think I am worried? I am thinking of a new career option: racing car driver.

Hunting disaster

I am now not even allowed to hunt dead birds.
A couple of days ago I found a dead sparrow near the side gate. Lynettea dragged me away before I could examine it properly. We had to go inside very suddenly and then she rushed out. When we went out again the next day for her walkies, the bird had moved. Maybe it wasn't dead? Impossible.
I sniffed around to try to locate it. No luck. A mystery.
Today I am checking in the garden bed and suddenly I find the dead sparrow resting  under the violets.  Anxious to examine it properly, I pick it up and jump to the footpath.
No luck.
'Drop that, Sasha!' she says. Then we have to go in again.