Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Why cats invented Christmas

The Victorians are usually credited with the invention of Christmas as we know it: the decorations, the sending of cards, the carol-singing. I believe, however, that if historians dug a little deeper they would discover that the inventor of our Christmas traditions could have been one thing only. Feline.

Let’s start with the Christmas meal. A 15lb bird – large enough to feed a family of 6 for a week – is crammed into an oven barely big enough to accommodate it, left to cook for half a day, then served with so many accompaniments that even the heartiest family can barely make a dent in its flesh. What possible reason would a human have for devising such a wasteful, impractical menu? To a cat, on the other hand, the weeks of leftover turkey scraps would be not just a happy accident, but a crucial factor in the planning. For who else in the house can bear to eat any more turkey after the Christmas meal is over, but the family cat?

Similarly, why would a human want to stick a real six-foot tree in the middle of their living room, usually necessitating the rearrangement of furniture to make room for it? And let’s not forget the irritation of constantly-dropping pine needles all over the carpet from the moment the delicate Scandinavian evergreen comes into contact with your full-blast central heating. For a human, the tree is nothing but hassle. To a cat, however, it is a ready-made climbing frame and scratching post, replete with tantalising decorations and glittering baubles just waiting to be batted off their hooks.

Christmas morning itself, with its frenzy of gift-opening, undoubtedly has its rewards for humans. But have you ever stopped to consider how you package the gifts you give your loved ones? Endless cardboard boxes, perhaps full of shredded tissue or polystyrene pellets, all encased in crinkly paper… I think you can see where I’m going here.

The evidence is undeniable. All your Christmas traditions were devised by someone with a vested interest in leftover turkey, tree-based play, and cardboard boxes.

Thank you, Father Kitty-mas!

Too bad, Pip. I found it first!

Friday, 16 December 2011

What a difference a year makes


This time last year there was a thick covering of snow across Harpenden, and I spent the daylight hours in the park opposite Nancy HQ making merry with all the local sledgers.

A year on, we have only had a mere dusting of snow, and yet it is enough to send me scurrying to the nearest radiator for some winter comfort.


Drifting in and out of sleep I wonder if I could be getting old. Do I exhibit any other signs of middle age? Certainly, I have taken to eating more in recent months, and combined with my lower energy levels this has resulted in a visible pot belly (which my owners delight in pointing out to me every time I pester them for food).

I also find it hard to stay awake, having to fight drooping eyelids even in mid-conversation, or while watching my favourite wildlife programmes on TV (is the fact that I enjoy wildlife programmes itself a sign of middle age?!) 

Most worrying of all, I find myself sympathising with my step-cat Pip's grumpy moods. When he sulks because his favourite napping spot has been used to store Christmas presents, I feel his pain rather than sniggering behind his back. When he complains about the mud and ice in our back garden, I give a resigned nod rather than rolling my eyes.

Could the unthinkable be happening? Could I be... growing up?

I'll have to get back to you on that. Right now, I need a nap.

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Pip - you've been prank'd!

The wintry weather has arrived, so Pip and I have been forced to overcome our mutual dislike, and accept that we do in fact share the same living quarters. For the most part we are able to do so with at least a semblance of civility, but there are still occasional flashpoints.

Yesterday, for instance, saw me fall victim to a completely unprovoked physical assault by Pip, resulting in tufts of black fur (mine) being gouged out all over the living room carpet. As Pip is undeniably larger and stronger than me I was forced to concede defeat. However, like David to Pip's Goliath, I used my brain to come up with a payback plan.

As you will see from the photo below, I think justice has been served admirably, with the help of a tube of hair lightening cream, and some deft paw-work while Pip slept off his lunch.

As you can see from his face, Pip is thrilled to be a walking advertisement for my book, at least until he sheds his winter coat.

That'll teach him.

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

If cats went on strike...

Today is Britain's first national strike day for decades, and I have been pondering the issue of democratic protest (from my vantage point on the wooden chest next to the radiator). The question no-one has yet asked: how should the country's feline population express dissatisfaction with its own working conditions? We have rights just like everyone else, and surely we are also entitled to express our views?

For the sake of argument, let's say a (hypothetical) cat was unhappy with the living conditions offered by her owner. What would her choices be?

Stirke days are all well and good for humans, but the 'down tools' approach presupposes that twelve hours of lying semi-comatose on a sofa does not, in fact, constitute a perfectly normal working day. If our dissatisfied hypothetical feline decided to spend, say, an extra hour of the day asleep, would her owners even notice?

More extreme methods may be called for, such as the tried and tested Hunger Strike. Our disaffected moggy could turn her nose up at all food offered by her owners for a 24 hour period (any longer would be craziness). I'm sure all my feline readers will recognise the feeling of power that comes from delivering the withering 'you call that food?' look as your owner squeezes some reconstituted gristle out of an own-brand pouch. To really ram the point home, it's best to sniff disconsolately at the mushy chunks before exiting swiftly through the cat flap. This technique works best in the summer months, when the piles of uneaten food will soon be swarming with bluebottles. This tactic's disadvantage, however, is that it does involve going hungry, or at the very least dragging yourself out of the house and going next door to eat their cat's food instead.

Protest marches, demonstrations, rallies - all make me shudder with the sheer amount of activity involved. And there's the rub, I suppose. Cats are simply not activists by nature. We are inactivists. We need a method of protest which doesn't involve going hungry, doesn't require planning and organisation, and definitely doesn't entail being outside for long periods in inclement weather.

So that's settled then. Unless anyone can come up with a better idea, we'll pee in your shoes.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

What Tulisa's tattoo really says...

Apparently X Factor judge Tulisa is in trouble with Ofcom regulators, who think the tattoo she displays on her forearm at the beginning of every show might be illegally promoting her new perfume.

However I can exclusively reveal, with the help of some very sophisticated imaging technology, that she is innocent of all charges. Tulisa is indeed sharing something dear to her heart with the British public, but it's got nothing to do with perfume...

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

We Need to Talk about Nancy...

Now that I'm a bona-fide celebrity, I'd hate for my fans to think I no longer care about what you think of me. To that end I have compiled my very own survey about, well, me.

With a few clicks of the mouse you can make your voice heard, and let me know what it is you love most about me.

I promise to take on board all comments and suggestions (as long as I agree with them, of course).

Happy surveying!


Monday, 7 November 2011

Another day, another photo-shoot...

I feel I should apologise for neglecting my mog blog of late. The truth is, what with Facebook and Twitter, there are so many 'petworking' platforms out there it's sometimes hard to keep on top of them all. And let's not forget, I am a cat, and therefore like to spend at least 60% of any given day asleep, leaving a mere 40% for other activities such as eating, hunting, and self-publicising.

Speaking of self-publicising, today Nancy HQ was visited by a journalist and photographer from the nation's premier feline publication Your Cat magazine.* They are writing a feature about me, my book, and my forthcoming appearance on Must Love Cats.

Their timing was not great as I had just settled down for my mid-morning nap, but I turned on the Nancy charm for them regardless. After the usual 'Nancy at home' photo shoot we headed off to one of my local pubs, the Gibraltar Castle, for some additional shots of me relaxing at the bar.

This PR business is getting to be second-nature for me and my owner now, and we have become quite a slick unit of feline/human co-operation: I do my bit in front of the camera while she leaps around like a lunatic behind the camera, sporadically flicking cat treats in my direction if I lose focus or look as if I might fall asleep.

Seeing the desperation in my owner's eyes as she tried to get me to follow the photographer's instructions today,  I couldn't help wondering what's in it for her? Anyone would think it was her memoir we were promoting, rather than mine.

I suspect she might be a little delusional, kidding herself that my fame is, somehow, something to do with her. As we bade farewell to the journalist and photographer, I nearly reminded her that the magazine is called Your Cat, not Your Owner, but seeing the excited look on the face, I just didn't have the heart to spoil her fun.

*Nancy will appear in the January issue of Your Cat, out on Decemeber 15th.

Saturday, 1 October 2011

Must Love Nancy

It's been a big week for me. The UK launch of my memoir Sex and the Kitty took place on Thursday night. Neighbours, friends, fans - you name it - all turned up to celebrate at my favourite local pub, the Amble Inn.

I spent the day beforehand preparing in the best way known to cat: sleeping. To help get me in the right mindset for the night's celebration, I chose to nap in a box of my books. I like to think this added a personal touch to the copies which later went on sale at the launch: a tuft of fur here, a speck of flea dirt there. There can't be many authors who would go to such lengths for their readers.

As if the launch itself were not exciting enough, the whole event was filmed by a film crew from America for Must Love Cats on Animal Planet. As those of you who have read my book will know, this was not the first time I have dipped my paw into the world of showbusiness. You will not be surprised to hear I performed like a seasoned pro, executing several takes of the 'Nancy walking into pub' shot (motivated in part, I'll admit, by some strategic placing of smoked salmon on the floor just inside the door), and I did not betray even a flicker of annoyance when the show's host John Fulton woke me from my nap later in the evning to interview me. However I did draw the line when I escaped into the pub garden for a comfort break only to find a cameraman lurking in the bushes, hoping to film me answering the call of nature!

This breach of privacy aside, the film crew behaved professionally, and since I heard them utter the phrase 'pure gold' on several occasions, I can only assume they were happy with the evening too.

Friday saw me faced with another full day of filming for Must Love Cats, this time for the 'day in the life of Nancy' sequence, at my home and in some of my local hangouts.

Filming began with some straightforward requests: coming in and out of the cat flap, walking down to the local park, charming some small children in the playground. My UK readers will be aware, however, that we are currently experiencing an unseasonal heatwave, and I'm sure all my readers will know that if there's one thing cats like to do in a heatwave, it's sleep.

I fought against my natural urges as best I could, trying to do what was being asked of me with good grace. I wandered around the aisles of my corner shop. I trotted along the street chatting to neighbours. I hopped in the back of a taxi. But the sweltering heat combined with my sleep deprivation combined to cause somewhat of a sense of humour failure, and by 4pm I let it by known that Nancy was closed for business.

When we finally returned home for the final shot, of John Fulton serenading me with his specially-composed Nancy song, I had had enough. I turned my back to him, had a brief wash, and went to sleep.

Nancy will appear in the next season of Must Love Cats, on Animal Planet, early next year.

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

New York Kitty

As my Facebook friends will already know, I have just got back from a promotional tour of the US (well, New York City). In spite of a somewhat uncomfortable journey over in my owner's luggage, sandwiched between the shoes and the hairdryer, I would say the trip overall was a big success.

As well as being wined and dined by my US publishers, I made something of a pilgrimage around the Manhattan branches of Barnes and Noble in order to see Sex and the Kitty on the shelves.

I'll admit I was disappointed at first not to find my memoir on either the 'Bestseller' or 'Recommended' tables, but I suppose it is a little too soon for that. For readers of mine based in the US, the 'Humor' section is where you will find me, sandwiched between books about Farts, Assholes, and other similaraly scatalogical subjects.

Contemplating the low-grade publications on either side of my slim but stylish volume, I came to the conclusion that the understated elegance of my book is in fact highlighted by the crassness of these rival offerings.

I'm sure that any customer searching for a book that will make them smile (and which they will not be ashamed to be seen reading in public) will have no hesitation in choosing Sex and the Kitty over a book about bodily functions.

Remember, a fart might be for Christmas, but a Kitty's for life.

Monday, 12 September 2011

If cats had apps...

I've had a busy weekend. In addition to putting my film-making skills to good use with my new catcam (of which more later), I've also been working up a few Nancy merchandising concepts. Traditionally, celebrity cats tend to focus on 'old-school' merchandising lines: calendars, soft toys, yada yada yada.

However, as a multi-media-enabled, tech-savvy feline, I've decided to go for something more in tune with today's society...

The Nancy App.

Your chance to get the virtual Nancy experience, for just $1.99!

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Another lovely review!

I think I've found a new best friend.

Lovely Pauline who writes the Daily Mews (http://www.thedailymews.com/) has just written this fab review of my book, AND invited me to become a regular columnist for her Mewsletter!


Whisper it, but my owners could learn a thing or two from Pauline about how to treat a celebrity cat.

Follow the love, is all I'm saying.

They have been warned.

Tuesday, 6 September 2011

How to be a writer: Tips for Cats.

Some say that ‘every cat has at least one book inside them’. I certainly did (my first book Sex and the Kitty is out now!) But what of all the other cats out there, who dream of literary success but wouldn’t know where to start? Is a posthumous, ghosted biography the best they can hope for?

Not necessarily.

As a published feline (and a ghost-free one, at that) I feel well-placed to advise aspiring literary cats on how to make it in the cut-throat world of 21st century publishing.

So listen up, kitties. You want to be a writer? Here’s the deal.

First, you need an idea. This sounds deceptively simple. Of course it helps if you are a compulsively extrovert cat with a thirst for self-publicity, like me. Not all cats are so blessed. Whatever your personality, you will need to find your USP. There are a lot of kitties out there wanting to get published. What have you got to say that other cats (and humans) will want to hear?

When you’ve nailed your idea, you need to get an agent. And by agent, I don’t mean an owner with a house covered in cat hair who thinks the sun shines out of your litter tray. I mean a proper agent. One who knows how to harness your literary talents and, most importantly, what’s going to sell. She doesn’t need to be a cat lover, but she does need to know how to pitch your idea, and who to pitch it to.

Once you’ve got an agent behind you, it’s time to start writing. Brace yourselves, this is the tricky part. Now I know what you’re thinking: how hard can it be for a cat to knock out 60,000-odd words of literary genius? But trust me, it’s not as easy as it sounds.

First things first, if you want to write, you need to establish a routine. Unnatural as it is for a cat, you must discipline yourself. You need to resist the continual feline urge to nap, at least until a rough draft of a chapter is on paper. If writer’s block strikes (and it happens to the best of us), I recommend heading outdoors for a hunting session. It’s amazing how slaughtering wildlife can get the creative juices flowing.

If you set your mind to it, you should be able to write two chapters a week. Reach your target, and you can reward yourself with a treat: an extra long wash/nap combo in a sunbeam, or some quality time with a fresh pouch of lamb chunks in gravy. Keep up this level of productivity and you should have a first draft to deliver to your publisher in twelve weeks.

One final thing: for goodness sake, learn to spell. Yes, I know the LOLcats get away with the phonetic mis-spelling conceit. A photo of ‘cyoot kittehs’ with an amusing caption might be enough on the internet, but, take my word for it, it won’t cut the mustard with publishing professionals. No excuses, kitties, You can haz Spellcheck.

I can’t write your book for you, but follow my simple rules and you too could be a published cat. Good luck!

Friday, 12 August 2011

Letter to Anna Wintour

Dear Ms Wintour,

Much as it saddens me to do so, I am writing to complain about the profile of me which ran in July's issue of Vogue.

It's not just that most of the article is, inexplicably, padded with an unnecessary (and dare I say, gushing) interview with Sarah Jessica Parker (who she?) More worrying (and unprofessional) than that, when your journalist does finally get around to the topic du jour, my forthcoming memoir Sex and the Kitty - a celebrity Meowmoir, she makes two grave factual inaccuracies.

Firstly, she erroneously describes my lifetime's chef d'oeuvre as a 'novelty book'.

As if that were not crushing enough, she then perversely insists on attributing the work to my owner. Surely a journalist of a high enough calibre to write for American Vogue should understand that the word 'memoir'* generally implies that a book was written by its subject? Not by its subject's owner.

Ms Wintour, how would you feel if your cat tried to pass itself off as editor of Vogue? A little peeved, perhaps? Somewhat chagrined? Maybe even 'the full Nuclear'?

Now you know how I felt upon reading that my 'novelty' memoir was apparently not even written by me.

I will let it pass on this occasion, but next time I might not be so understanding.

You have been warned.

Nancy (the Cat)

*ok so it actually says 'meowmoir' but you get my point.

Thursday, 7 July 2011

Only 274,778 places to go...

Pre-publicity for my memoirs (titled Sex and the Kitty - in case it has escaped your attention) has got underway this week. Two local newspapers dutifully covered news of my book deal, and cat blog Catster also ran the story. http://http://blogs.catster.com/kitty-news-network/2011/07/04/british-glamor-puss-lands-book-deal/

The immediate effect has been lots of new followers for me on Facebook and Twitter, and a growing (and possibly unhealthy) obsession with my Amazon sales graph. How the rankings are calculated remains a mystery, especially given the book is not even on sale yet. But there seems to be have a definite spike in my position this week, so I can only assume that pre-orders have been placed! I am now soaring at the giddy heights of #274,779 in the UK rankings (out of over 5,000,000 books, I should add).

Some of my longstanding facebook friends have expressed a concern that I might become big-headed as my fame continues to grow. To them, I would like to offer reassurance, with the utmost sincerity, that this will not be the case.

I was already big-headed.

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

Letter to Larry

Dear Larry,

I have followed your progress as Mouser-in-Chief at No 10 with interest, and, to be blunt, I feel you could do with some help. Admittedly, your charm offensive on the press has worked thus far (with the exception of the ITN reporter, but the less said about her the better), but I can't help noticing widespread suspicion that you are failing to deliver your brief.

I believe your owner said in a recent speech "We have obligations beyond our front door, beyond our street". Larry - he's onto you! Take my advice, you need to up your game or your days as the nation's First Cat could be numbered.

Fortunately for you, I have a solution in mind: you and I could form the world's first cat coalition. Before you dismiss the idea, remember that an unlikely coalition managed to get your owner into No 10 against the odds, and what's good enough for the Prime Minister is, surely, good enough for the Prime Minister's Cat.

I too am a cat with a career, a cat who is going places. Like you, I am familiar with the workings of the press, often having to defend my behaviour under the spotlight of public scrutiny. But please be reassured that under our coalition arrangement I would not steal your limelight. You are the feline face of No 10, and you would still get all the glory. I would simply be the power behind your throne... Peter Mandelson to your Gordon Brown, if you will.

Our mission statment could be Putting Cats at the Heart of the Big Society. That would be right up your owner's street, no?

In brief, here's how I see our manifesto:

  • A clampdown on illegal rodent immigration. Any rodent will have to demonstrate a minimum standard of English before being granted residency on British streets.

  • No-fly zones for birds in residential areas during cat nap-times.

  • One cat, one vote (on what should be served for dinner).

  • An immediate ban on the barbaric use of rectal thermometers on cats.

Simple, but effective, and I'm sure you'll agree Larry, that these are not just feline values, but universal values. I believe that, individually, we are great, but together, we are stronger. Our relationship would thrive because it advances our common interests and shared values. It is a perfect alignment of what we both need and what we both believe. Ours is not just a special relationship, it is an essential relationship - for us and for the world. *

A cat coalition, Larry. You know it makes sense.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts but in the meantime, remember, those mice won't catch themselves!

Kindest regards,

Nancy (the cat)

*I believe your owner borrowed my words for a speech when Obama popped in to No 10 for a barbecue. Power behind the throne, you see...

Monday, 13 June 2011

Nancy on wheels

The weather's turned rainy recently but, like a true pro, I have stoically continued with my punishing schedule of promotional activities around town. There have been times, however, when damp-induced physical discomfort has almost got the better of me.

Last night, for instance, I returned home after an evening's tour of duty whereupon my owners were kind enough to remark that I 'looked like a drowned rat'. I felt like shouting 'let's not forget which member of this household has the book deal and is therefore paying the bills!' But instead I opted for the passive-aggressive response, and tracked muddy pawprints across every dry/clean/soft surface I could find, finishing with a full-body twist'n'shake in front of the TV screen.

Their comment got me thinking, however, that there must be a more comfortable way of raising my profile: one that doesn't involve pounding the streets on all fours, in all weathers.

And then it hit me. I need a Nancymobile! That way I can be driven around, like the Pope, in a manner befitting my stature and gravitas, protected from the elements but on full view to my adoring public. A megaphone could be used to alert people to my imminent arrival ('Nancy's coming. Lock the dog in the kitchen and open the tuna.') I would be able to increase the range of my personal appearances to the other side of town, and beyond! And my fans will no longer feel obliged to drive me home themselves, as they will know my chauffeur (owner) is on hand for the return journey.

This is, surely, what they call a 'no-brainer'?

I shall tell my owners the good news tonight.

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Don't call me fat...

As my book publication date approaches, I'm getting used to my owners being summoned to various meetings about my burgeoning career. Last week, it was a publicity meeting with my publishers. This week, it was the accountant's turn.

Apparently, as a feline-mogul-in-waiting I should have my own limited company. Partly for complicated (and, frankly, boring) tax reasons, but mostly to safeguard my financial affairs (ie keep my assets safe from the grasping hands of my owners). Naturally, I was delighted when my owners conveyed the news to me that I am to become a Director of Nancy, Inc.

To my mind, this company could mark the beginning of brand Nancy. I'm picturing merchandising, sponsorship deals, super-injunctions...

All things considered, I'm rather looking forward to being a Fat Cat.

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

Nancy the Movie

As the publication date for my memoir approaches, my time is increasingly taken up with demands of a marketing nature. My excellent US publishers are orchestrating a multimedia publicity campaign, once facet of which is a promotional video starring, of course, me. Film actress is one of the few strings still lacking from my professional bow, so I jumped at the chance to star in my very own biopic.

Let me tell you, being a movie star is not as easy as it looks. Finding my motivation was the easy part. It was the production team (my owners), and the technology which let me down. Several of my 'artistic visions' had to be disregarded due to budgetary constraints (I tried telling them that you get what you pay for, but to no avail). Apparently casts of thousands, elaborate special effects and state-of-the-art post production techniques are out of the question. Ditto a soundtrack featuring copyrighted music. Ditto CGI animation. Ditto professional on-set catering. You get the picture.

What I do have is a laptop, my imagination, and two owners who claim they want to help but seem to spend most of their time telling me what I can't do. If I'm honest with you, the atmosphere at Nancy HQ is starting to get somewhat tense. Having done my bit and produced a simple but effective storyboard, I left the humans to get to grips with the minutiae of the editing software. How hard can that be, right? Judging by the looks on their faces when I returned home at the end of the night, they had failed dismally to fulfil their end of the bargain.

Now they're driving me mad with their incessant demands - to sit in certain places, to pull certain facial expressions, to be awake when they decide to shout 'action'. They have no idea how to handle 'talent'. One of them had the cheek to say working with me is like working with Charlie Sheen. They should be careful what they wish for: I've got quite a rant brewing inside me, and it would only take one ill-timed 'can we just try that again?' for me to unleash my own violent torpedo of truth.

I've had enough. I slipped out of the house yesterday during a break in filming and have not been home since. I'll go back when they've calmed down and are able to conduct themselves in a professional manner. Right now, I need to be alone.

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Nancy TV

I spent last week incarcerated at the cattery (sharing a hutch with Pip. Say no more.) In between the usual cattery pastimes (yowling at the staff, sleeping, yowling at the other cat inmates, sleeping, just yowling) I found a new way to while away the time: devising reality TV formats for cats. As something of a connoisseur of the human reality TV genre, I am convinced that many shows would benefit from feline reversioning.

Here are some of my favourites:

Pimp my Pride
Feline stylist Nan-C (me) helps a tom-cat whose alpha status is at risk because his pride of females is looking frumpy. I work some makeover magic - a little back-combing here, a mani/pedi there - and voila! the ladies are smokin' hot and rockin' da hood again. Alpha status restored.*

Jersey Paws
Observational documentary series about the notoriously brash cats of Jersey Shore, New York. Featuring big fur, big muscles, big personalities, and accents you could strip walls with. Not for the faint-hearted.

Nancy's New BFF
Feline socialite Nancy (you guessed it) travels the country looking for a new 'best feline friend' in the ultimate feline friendship test. The 16 candidates have to prove they can party but also that they have taste and class. Game on, bitches!

My Big Cat Gypsy Wedding
Lions and tigers from a travelling circus tie the knot in a frenzy of fake tan and pink taffetta.

How to Lick Cod Naked
Pretty self-explanatory, this one. A vital life-skill for any gourmet feline.

Five strong ideas, I'm sure you'll agree. I can't wait to hear back from the TV networks I have sent them to.

Now I just need to get the cattery to install a 40 inch flat-screen in my hutch and I'll be happy to book in for another week. Even Pip can come, as long as he brings the popcorn.

*OK I know this is not the most politically correct format, but that never stopped anyone from watching a reality show, right?

Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Feline bete noir: the cat flap

I sometimes think humans don't appreciate how tough life can be for us cats. You think all we do all day is sleep, eat, and kill things and, by and large, you are right, but you fail to appreciate the many irritants, inadequacies and shortcomings which we tolerate on a daily basis.
As a writer, my requirements are simple. I need access to the computer, I need comfortable sleeping quarters, and I need to be able to get outside quickly to answer the call of nature (or if I have seen a juicy wren or blackbird boucing across the lawn).
There is only one thing standing between me and aforesaid avian snack, and it has nothing to do with my hunting prowess. It is the cat flap.
Could someone please tell me who invented this device, because I would like to send them a sharply worded email.
Can you imagine an episode of Dragons' Den in which some wide-eyed inventor turns up with a human equivalent of the cat flap: a hinged plastic window which you have to force open with your head?
The Dragons wouldn't even give it the time of day.
A method of entering and exiting in which the plastic flap either swings back and hits you on the nose on your way out, or catches the tip of your tail on your way in - is that really the best design humankind could come up with?
Would it be impossible to invent a device, say, with sliding doors which sense your approach and slide open in readiness for you? Perhaps with an accompanying announcement for human owners: 'Attention! Incoming feline! Prepare bowl of cat crunchies!'
Now that's an invention I would invest in. But until then, to quote the Dragons, 'I'm out' (with a sore tail and bruised nose).

Monday, 14 February 2011

I'm back!

Have you missed me?

In case you were unaware, I have spent the last few months toiling away on my memoirs, due for publication this year.*

The book is nearly finished - I'm just doing final edits with the help of my long-suffering editor in the US. She's learning fast, for a human.
I won't give too much away but I'm confident there's something in it for everyone - tears, laughter, romance, hairballs...

Meanwhile, I have decided to make an early start on my marketing strategy, and have set up a Fan page for myself on Facebook (under 'Nancy the Cat'). I rather like the idea of having 'fans', I think it sets a good precedent for the future. I struggled with which category to select, though. So many of them seemed to apply: public figure, writer, comedian, entertainer. I opted for 'writer' in the end, although I was rather tempted by 'monarch'.

So with a bit of luck the book will be finished and off to the printers soon, and I will have more time on my paws for my blog. I must say it is liberating to be able to write what I like without having to run it past an editor first, and see it come back with comments in the margin saying 'I don't get it. Is this meant to be funny?'

I joke of course. It's all funny!

Prepare yourselves for the onslaught of my publicity campaign. It's coming soon...

*Sex and the Kitty, available in all good book stores, Autumn 2011