Sweet and Tender hooligan

"He was a sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
And he swore that he'll never,ever do it again
And of course he won't (on not until the next time)"

The opening lines from a sweet little ditty by The Smiths, which pretty much sums up Cooper, (the cat one) at the moment. Me and Cooper are having major relationship issues right now. I may even have dramatically announced "It's so over" as I locked him in his bedroom after this particular incident.

Why? I hear you ponder (well probably not but hey). Well imagine the scenario, it's just past midnight, I a happily heading for bed, giving Scruff her final pat of the night, when I spy through the door the little green eyes of Cooper. So I let him in, as you do and he scampers in quite pleased with himself and clearly on a mission to break into the cupboard under the stairs.

And thats when I noticed, the little friend he'd brought home with him, the one dangling from his little catty fangs, by its tail. The truth well and truly dawned, the little git had pounced on some poor little mouse. Oh my god, just what a girl needs.

Initially I rather bizarrely attempted to reason with Cooper to release Mousie, it was like some bizarre hostage negotiation. Didn't last long though as Cooper (petulent teenager that he now appears to be) shot me a glance of "As if" and then raced off up the stairs, mouse still being dangled. I off course was in hot pursuit, still reading him the riot act of why bringing home uninvited guests was just not on frankly. I caught him of course at the top of the stairs. he was endeavouring to flick mouse from paw to paw, truly a psychopath I swear it. No match for e though, oh no, I was on a mission to save mousie. What followed was much more shouting and attempts to grab Cooper who kept shooting me glances of "And you think you are who exactly?". In the end and its embarrasing to admit it, I threw a toilet roll at aforementioned psychopathic cat. Well in his general vicinity not actually with the intention of belting him with it, that would be just mean. And no, I didn't run to the bathroom to get it, it was just on the landing (I don't know why OK). Anyway it had the desired effect and Cooper retreated a couple of stairs down, from where I grabbed him and dispatched him to his bedroom aka the dining room. Cooper in protest mewed very loudly. Scruffbag, knowing this was pretty serious stayed in her basket, snout hidden under blanket.

The mouse, well by some miracle the rather dishevelled, damp looking mouse, which was shivering in the corner was still alive. Dazed but alive. So off I went, found a sheet of newspaper for mouse to clamber on and took him to the veg patch. Thankfully it was dark so the neighbours were spared the site of me in my pyjamas. Mouse still a bit dazed was fine, had a bit of a sit and a think, presumably about its near death experience and then pondered which way was home.

I went off to watch telly with Scruffbag, well a girl can't sleep after high drama like this not with any amount of Ovaltine. Scruff emerged from her basket to be supportive, ie stick her chin on me and look mournful (not sure why she thinks that solves everything but she does). And what of Cooper, well he was still miaowing in protest from his room, presumably something about the infringement of his rights to chase mice.

I'd like to say he swore that he'd never ever do it again, but he didn't. In fact next morning when he was released fro his room instead of his usual run to his bowl, he wanted to be let out to look for his mouse. No chance.

Here he is, oh yes, doesn't look like a psychotic serial killer does he? Well don't be fooled. Cooper Ezekiel Beelzebub Ronnie Reggie Psycho (his show name) is not to be trusted around birds, mice. Oh yes and if the latest report from Big Al and Nige are true, squirrels. He has apparently graduated to squirrel chasing.



Oh yes and in case you're not convinced this incident is a repeat offence, the week before there was also a mouse dangling incident, he merrily taunted me with that one as I carried the shopping in from the car. There was also the decapitated one, I found on the doorstep, I swear its a miracle I'm not in therapy.

Oh and for those unfamiliar with English wildlife, here's the poor victim (well a lookalike even I wouldn't make the poor thing pose for photos after its trauma).



I imagine, just as the in the song I imagine Cooper would make some plea in mitigation of "he was old and he would have died anyway". And yes I know he is a cat and its his nature etc, but surely after all these years he'd have some respect for my lentil choming sensibilities, surely?

Another dimension, another dimension....

Cats generally are quite odd. Cooper - my present cat takes odd to a whole new level of oddness. I have spoken of Cooper before of course. The description of bandy legged, slightly camp serial killer still stands but since his recent adventure (which involved him going missing for a week, sparking a full scale village wide state of emergency) has meant that he's become even odder. He was found, on some steps just down the road, covered in coal dust, skinny and pretty traumatised. It later transpired that he had dislocated his tail, its true I even saw the Xrays and I had no idea how far a cats tail went up into his spine but ouch. I was pretty traumatised too, by the size of the vet bill.

Am pleased to report that the tail now seems almost normal and Cooper is on sparkling bird chasing, mouse molesting form (oh the joy of wrestling mangled mice in varying states of disrepair from him).

He has also decided that home is actually quite a good place to be, even with the building work his comfy chair by the fire seems appealing. Now he's recovered he likes to check up on the builders, a self appointed quality control inspector. He also appears to have strong views on power tools, specifically that they shouldn't be used when he wants a sleep and screeches at the builders to explain this to them.

In his self appointed Site Inspector role he prowls daily and so far he's been

1) rescued from a skip, thankfully before it was en route to Doncaster.

2) relocated to the house from his attempts to investigate the cement mixer (yes it was on at the time)

3) extracted from having a kip on the scaffolding lorry

Oh yes and then there was the whole incident with the wall tie drilling where Cooper appeared wholly convinced that he could stare Al out and the annoying noise would stop. It's enough to drive a girl to drink, even that Elderberry wine stuff that our Adie's mum makes.Ssh don't tell my consultant.

The upshot of Cooper's new home obsession took on an interesting new twist recently with the builders breaking through from the new extension to the current house. As I said on Twitter a bit like the Berlin wall coming down only with more cups of tea and hob nobs. That night you see Cooper came upstairs to investigate with us ( I suspect all day he'd been thinking "WTF, why is my house vibrating" and it was as I say as though Cooper had found a secret new dimension.

His sense of wonder was not dissimilar to the kids in the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when they found aforementioned wardrobe. You could almost see him pausing and pondering the new dimension sort of like "OMG how did I never notice this bit before" debating whether he could really have missed a whole area of house to hide in for all this time or was it, oh yes far more likely, a portal had opened up to a new world, very Doctor Who. (he likes Doctor Who, except for the Daleks, he thinks they need to be terminated and is convinced there's a doorway at the back of the TV where he can get in and do for them and one day he'll find it , oh yes)

A full investigation of the new world was needed, which involved lots of panther like stalking around and sniffing. Of course I supervised and intervened where appropriate which interjections including "Cooper don't snort the cement" and "Cooper leave the cabling alone". then slightly more forceful "Cooper get the hell out from behind the bath".

I know what you're thinking "He's a cat, he won't know what you're saying" and yes I know that, I do, but I still talk to him the way my friends speak to their kids when they're being bratty. The investigation of the new dimension took some time of course because Cooper likes to be thorough. So I must confess on the third or maybe fourth stalk around the circumference of the room I reached breaking point, in need of a cup of tea and a nice chocolate digestive I stomped off and left him to it.

It wasn't that long, I promise, I'd finished the tea and the biscuit, well maybe three or four actually and then wondered where he was. So went to check and nope, nowhere to be seen not in the extenison, not in the bedrooms (not even under the beds),hadn't gone to dribble on my clothes in the wardrobe either and wasn't cuddled up with the printer (don't ask it makes him happy).

And then I heard a little cry, a Cooper whiny, "help me" sort of cry. Thing was where the hell was it coming from??. In the end I traced the sound back to the extension, not behind the bath or in the cement bag. There was nowhere else was there? Er oh yes a new built in wardrobe type thingy (yes I do have ideas above my station) and in there was a pile of wood, (well I suppose they sort of tidied up) and the cries came from there. Cooper was retrieved and scuttled of squeaking, presumably about the dangers of weird rooms that appear from nowehere and wood piles left therein.

Ever since then he views the new rooms with great suspicion and peers at them a lot through the new hall. He has also decided that I can't possibly take the risk of being left there unattended, so whenever I go for a bath now he stalks up to check on me. It's quite unnerving to be happy in your bubble bath and a squeaking thing appears, clambers onto the side of the bath an peers at you) Oh the glamour.

I am confident that the builder will put some doors on though soon as I know that "It'll be reet". Well at some point, hopefully this year even.

And here he is, in black and white, very reportage don't you think?. Best pop off now I hear the sound of approaching builders best make sure Coopers not trying to rob their breakfast bacon barms.Though his present obsession is the compost bin, don't ask I have no clue as to why. TTFN.x

Cooper, the slightly camp entertainer

Country girl has been asked about Cooper. So here he is Exhibit A.



He was named by the rescue centre after either a)the car, because he was a cute little mini cat or b) super, super Colin Cooper who plays for Nottinhgam Forest allegedly . I think it's a) in truth, the RSPCA girl who reluctantly let country girl take custody of him didn't look like she was a Forest fan.

For info it appears that Cooper's back story is that he was found at the side of the road, suspected car hit and run victim, no real injuries apparently.

Well country girl begs to differ. That cat has distinctly bandy legs as pointed out by some near neighbours who still refer to him as Wyatt and I suspect a slight brain injury (don't ask I just reckon it explains a lot)

At first Cooper seemed quite normal, a sweet little puss barely out of kittenhood who liked his cuddles. But then the declining numbers in the bird population became apparent, particularly as they appeared in the kitchen. Then one squealchy night time visit to the coal shed revealed that Cooper had his own personal dead bird storage facility.

Over time, his campness became more noticed so he was lovingly nicknamed Reggie.
(Kray of course whose behaviour he seemed to mirror).

Not that you'd think it now as he snootle purrs on the sofa picture of cuteness. Yes well thats what he wants you to think.

So now you know - his full name of course is Cooper Beelzebub Ptolemy Reggie and I am sure you will hear more Cooper related rantings from Country girl later.

Digger,Digger,Digger!!

Country girl had a naughty glint in her eye on rising this morning. Thankfully the builder recognised that look and realised that she wasn't giving him the glad eye but gazing longingly at his shiny little friend, the digger.

(actual Digger shown below)



"Digger's arrived princess" - yes indeed it had. The P word again (noted by country girl of course. Mental note made and one less choccy digestive she thinks). I ventured a "Can I ...?" but like some warp speed mind reading genius his retort was "No love, can't have a go, not allowed, specialist equipment this".

Humph, well, country girl not best pleased and did what she does when she can't threaten disciplinary action or make someone redundant or even worse make them attend six sigma training for the 9 billionth time. What was it? Pout, a big pout. A full bottom lip jobby, just like she used to try on her dad to get her own way (he got wise and laughed eventually, think I was about 21).

And as that clearly didn't work started the charm offensive "Tea?", "Cracking love".

Country girl seems to say that a lot these days. So off I went "Tea time is me time" merrily dancing in my head (yeah right). Still looking lovingly through the window at the digger, if only.

It was then that country girl spied Cooper (camp psycho cat for those of limited attention span). Cooper had decided to play stalk the digger, not quite sure what he was planning to do with it. Certainly couldn't lop its head off and hide it in the coal shed as is his usual modus operandi. So he had to be rescued, or rather grappled to safety much to the amusement of the builders (I was actually tying to protect them) and much to the annoyance of Cooper. Who has thankfully now ended his campaign to get let out again and joined me on the sofa for a sulk.

So here we are, a petulent princess, pouty psycho cat and a love struck scruff bag (she makes eyes at the builders).

Word of the digger has spread we are expecting a visit from Ginger Dave who wants me to look at his cv, yeah right, I know its my digger he's after. They better not let him have a go or well I'll set the cat on em.

TTFN