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The Feline Observer - ACHC&SE Copyright 2003-2004 Feedback: silelf@mac.com
26.9.03
Private Eye
by Brindis
Some nights ago my humans forgot to close the window kitchen in the new London pad. As I was bored I went out. It was fun to feel the cold of the night in my cheeks. To walk in the window balcony, and feel the breeze blowing my fur. I walked quickly without looking back, energised by the feeling of being young and free.
My search for an open window to explore was not successful as all were closed, and then it was the end of the row of houses. And there was nowhere to go. It came back to me: who I am and where I am. I am a 22-year-old cat, I want to be home, be warm and feed. I turned back.
The way back home was slow; I kept stopping to think in the different nights I can remember. I wished I could play and hide and seek between the cars in Earl’s Court. I kept thinking in my girlfriends and in my other friends I had in my life. I could hear a voice calling me from very far away.
Then I was in my window, I went in, my humans were looking for me everywhere – It was Alastair’s voice the one I heard from far away -, and they were so happy to see me. I felt loved and welcome, I was warm and I was feed. It is nice to have a home where to get back.
I still look through the window glass: sometimes I see a young Brindis learning the trade I was such a Master, and keep my breath on hold until the cat crosses the street safely. My feeling is that I am glad I have a home, there was a time to be wild and I lived it well. At least my life memories are all good.
Until next time,
by Brindis
Some nights ago my humans forgot to close the window kitchen in the new London pad. As I was bored I went out. It was fun to feel the cold of the night in my cheeks. To walk in the window balcony, and feel the breeze blowing my fur. I walked quickly without looking back, energised by the feeling of being young and free.
My search for an open window to explore was not successful as all were closed, and then it was the end of the row of houses. And there was nowhere to go. It came back to me: who I am and where I am. I am a 22-year-old cat, I want to be home, be warm and feed. I turned back.
The way back home was slow; I kept stopping to think in the different nights I can remember. I wished I could play and hide and seek between the cars in Earl’s Court. I kept thinking in my girlfriends and in my other friends I had in my life. I could hear a voice calling me from very far away.
Then I was in my window, I went in, my humans were looking for me everywhere – It was Alastair’s voice the one I heard from far away -, and they were so happy to see me. I felt loved and welcome, I was warm and I was feed. It is nice to have a home where to get back.
I still look through the window glass: sometimes I see a young Brindis learning the trade I was such a Master, and keep my breath on hold until the cat crosses the street safely. My feeling is that I am glad I have a home, there was a time to be wild and I lived it well. At least my life memories are all good.
Until next time,
22.9.03
Legoland
by Brindis and Paolo
Our humans have been to Legoland last weekend. So we have decided to make a little note each about their experience:
Paolo: I love the new Lego blocks the human child Marlene brought back with her. I can use then as little balls, even if they don’t roll as well as my balls, however they make less noise. So I am looking forward to take some for my early morning training. Besides that idea, I feel Lego blocks are more a Master Brindis thing.
Brindis: I am not so pleased with the new Lego bricks, as I was expecting some Masterminds ones. I guess this is the start of some fun in here. I was making mental notes about shapes and structures, so much to do. Meanwhile my humans were exchanging memories of their youth about Lego toys with their pro Marlene. We have soon the visit of one of Silvia’s Goddesses friends coming to London. This lady is a Masterminds Mistress and I am looking forward to talk to you about the new languages available for intelligent command of the lego pro-types. Besides that I am quite happy that real Lego and not just the systems are now available at home.
Until next time
B&P
by Brindis and Paolo
Our humans have been to Legoland last weekend. So we have decided to make a little note each about their experience:
Paolo: I love the new Lego blocks the human child Marlene brought back with her. I can use then as little balls, even if they don’t roll as well as my balls, however they make less noise. So I am looking forward to take some for my early morning training. Besides that idea, I feel Lego blocks are more a Master Brindis thing.
Brindis: I am not so pleased with the new Lego bricks, as I was expecting some Masterminds ones. I guess this is the start of some fun in here. I was making mental notes about shapes and structures, so much to do. Meanwhile my humans were exchanging memories of their youth about Lego toys with their pro Marlene. We have soon the visit of one of Silvia’s Goddesses friends coming to London. This lady is a Masterminds Mistress and I am looking forward to talk to you about the new languages available for intelligent command of the lego pro-types. Besides that I am quite happy that real Lego and not just the systems are now available at home.
Until next time
B&P
11.9.03
The Autumn Mists
by Paolo
Over the long hot summer months in London I basked in the sun, which as always took me back to my childhood home in Tuscany, a place within where I always take refuge in times of uncertainty. But now that this city is shrouded in autumn mists the dark buildings appear as giant swirling ghosts and I feel quite scared, as mysterious forces are at work. Brindis has told me that there is a rational explanation for everything and that I should resume my experiments in physics if I want to get anywhere in life, but I never really understood their purpose and am now quite at a loss to explain how a building can one day be bright and tangible (good word, Paolo! - Editor), the next ethereal (very good! - Editor) and unworldly. I can only describe my feelings and after I told our kind Editor, Hugo du Chat Noir (good point! - Editor), he suggested that I should write a poem, which he has (reluctantly - Editor) agreed to publish.
Ah, the roaming, ghostly cat
Who howls by night upon the roof
But is never seen by day
He it is who haunts my dreams
And chases through my mind
Oh, the grey and faceless cat
The one whose feet are never heard
He prowls across the darkened room
Turning the wakeful cat to sleep
Bristling when all else is still
The fog thickens
And the cat preys
Upon the feeble mouse
But I am locked within my dreams
The cold outside is far away
by Paolo
Over the long hot summer months in London I basked in the sun, which as always took me back to my childhood home in Tuscany, a place within where I always take refuge in times of uncertainty. But now that this city is shrouded in autumn mists the dark buildings appear as giant swirling ghosts and I feel quite scared, as mysterious forces are at work. Brindis has told me that there is a rational explanation for everything and that I should resume my experiments in physics if I want to get anywhere in life, but I never really understood their purpose and am now quite at a loss to explain how a building can one day be bright and tangible (good word, Paolo! - Editor), the next ethereal (very good! - Editor) and unworldly. I can only describe my feelings and after I told our kind Editor, Hugo du Chat Noir (good point! - Editor), he suggested that I should write a poem, which he has (reluctantly - Editor) agreed to publish.
Ah, the roaming, ghostly cat
Who howls by night upon the roof
But is never seen by day
He it is who haunts my dreams
And chases through my mind
Oh, the grey and faceless cat
The one whose feet are never heard
He prowls across the darkened room
Turning the wakeful cat to sleep
Bristling when all else is still
The fog thickens
And the cat preys
Upon the feeble mouse
But I am locked within my dreams
The cold outside is far away
The Borough
by Brindis
So many things have happened in the Borough during my sojourns in the Low Countries, and I must say it has been difficult to resume my office as Liberal councillor in RBKC. Indeed, whilst many of my fellows in the civic authority welcomed me back, others see me as something of an anachronism and am no longer sure that I shall be standing for the next local election. For one thing, I was told by a bumptious career politician, Ali Catbell (who actually made his fortune selling electronic cat flaps in Basingstoke) that my new home is no longer in the ward, as the boundaries have apparently been changed. This same cad, I mean cat, failed to respond to residents' complaints about rat infestations in almost every basement, telling them they should get off their f****** backsides and catch them themselves! Meanwhile the cats in the flat below constantly moan about the noise Paolo makes walking across the floor: whilst I have every sympathy, we all have to live with him and it hardly constitutes a political issue, so I can only recommend that they address Paolo directly about the problem. Concern about the important issues, which once gave me so much hope for a better world, seems to have evaporated. I wonder how many of us remember those old slogans: Freeing the Common Cat from the Misery of Work, Vets for Strays, War on Vermin and Fleas, and so on. I suppose it is the spirit of the times.
Nevertheless, there is one beacon of hope. My old colleague McWhiskers of Cathcart Road finally won the campaign he championed for so many years, and the Borough has introduced a fine for idling car engines. As any cat who has dallied beneath the chassis of one of these infernal contraptions knows, the idling car is the most dangerous as there is no warning before it speeds off, consigning the cat beneath to sudden oblivion. Sadly McWhiskers died earlier this year but I shall be visiting his grave in Hyde Park.
But I must not ramble: back to politics. To be frank, I am quite incensed by Catbell's remarks about the ward boundaries, which he seems to have determined himself by urinating on every street corner, and shall very shortly be moving back to Nevern Square at the very centre of my old ward, where I shall stand against him. I have persuaded my humans to move there too, in time for the next local election at the end of 2004. My only hope is that he does not allow the Borough to be overrun by rats before then. After all, he is one himself.
by Brindis
So many things have happened in the Borough during my sojourns in the Low Countries, and I must say it has been difficult to resume my office as Liberal councillor in RBKC. Indeed, whilst many of my fellows in the civic authority welcomed me back, others see me as something of an anachronism and am no longer sure that I shall be standing for the next local election. For one thing, I was told by a bumptious career politician, Ali Catbell (who actually made his fortune selling electronic cat flaps in Basingstoke) that my new home is no longer in the ward, as the boundaries have apparently been changed. This same cad, I mean cat, failed to respond to residents' complaints about rat infestations in almost every basement, telling them they should get off their f****** backsides and catch them themselves! Meanwhile the cats in the flat below constantly moan about the noise Paolo makes walking across the floor: whilst I have every sympathy, we all have to live with him and it hardly constitutes a political issue, so I can only recommend that they address Paolo directly about the problem. Concern about the important issues, which once gave me so much hope for a better world, seems to have evaporated. I wonder how many of us remember those old slogans: Freeing the Common Cat from the Misery of Work, Vets for Strays, War on Vermin and Fleas, and so on. I suppose it is the spirit of the times.
Nevertheless, there is one beacon of hope. My old colleague McWhiskers of Cathcart Road finally won the campaign he championed for so many years, and the Borough has introduced a fine for idling car engines. As any cat who has dallied beneath the chassis of one of these infernal contraptions knows, the idling car is the most dangerous as there is no warning before it speeds off, consigning the cat beneath to sudden oblivion. Sadly McWhiskers died earlier this year but I shall be visiting his grave in Hyde Park.
But I must not ramble: back to politics. To be frank, I am quite incensed by Catbell's remarks about the ward boundaries, which he seems to have determined himself by urinating on every street corner, and shall very shortly be moving back to Nevern Square at the very centre of my old ward, where I shall stand against him. I have persuaded my humans to move there too, in time for the next local election at the end of 2004. My only hope is that he does not allow the Borough to be overrun by rats before then. After all, he is one himself.
6.9.03
Ravenna
by Paolo
Dear readers, my cousin Salvatore has written to me!. Master Brindis was surprised and was kind enough to read the letter for me, even if it took some time to translate (Cousin Salvatore has a scrappy handwriting).
Here I have copied the letter (in English) for the delight of my fans:
Ravenna, Adriatic Coast
Primero Setembre 2003
Caro Fausto Paulo, (Note from Paolo: Fausto is my old name)
You might not remember me, but I am the son of your mother’s brother Giuliano Fausto, so I am your direct cousin, I wouldn’t be surprised it you did not remember me as I am quite old (20), and I saw you when a little kitten with closed eyed. I have special memories of you, the only child of Margaretta! - Note from Brindis: this explains the retarded mental age-, the piccolino as we say in the Mother country.
How did I find you? Coincidence and coincidence, it was ought to be. Last week near my home, a friendly dog named Blue whose owner runs a Mosaic workshop told me about a lady with the name of Silvia, that is doing a course in mosaic with his mistress. This lady Silvia has mentioned the "ownership" of cat of Italian origin, but English family, blue eyed, blonde, and very good at football, and other details. As Blue was telling me more details I worked out that that cat could have been you. Not so sure I contact some friends in Ferrara and from there to Tuscany and confirmed the existence of a Dutch Farm in the Italian countryside (part of the story from Blue).
You don’t know how long we have been looking for you! And we (my wife, six sons and 3 daughters) are surprised that you are en la terra inglesa, and that you have even lived in Amsterdam. Oh piccolino! When I heard that your mother Margaretta died, I was so sorry to hear, but it was a bad time for me, my first wife also died (oh, Bernadetta, the Supreme Cat protect you) and having 4 boys and 2 girls to take care was a difficult task. Later, The Supreme Cat put in my path my second wife Adriana, and life is better with her, and I have 2 more boys and 1 more girl with her.
Anyway I never forgot you. As soon as it was possible I sent my older son Marco to look for you. The poor boy was at risk but it was too late: you were sold due to your beauty – your mother was very beautiful, and you father a real macho italiano, Belo, Belo! – to a Italian lady with two small children. Marco heard that the children developed an allergy to you - Note from Brindis: if he had the same habits than now I am not surprised- and the lady left you in the hills of Tuscany. Where last you were seen in the company of some peasant Tuscanian cats in a Dutch Farm. Marco was not able to find the farm and came back home.
I worried so deeply about you. As the last member of a familia princepesca – your father is a direct descendant of the English cats that fought for the independence and reunification of Italian cats – and from your mother side, well we are direct descendants of the Roman and Byzantine cats. You are unique and I am glad the lady Silvia will take with her to the terra inglesa pictures of the life in this part of the world and you can then perhaps take knowledge -Note from Brindis: If only!- of your ancestry and be proud!.
I can imagine that living since little age in the company of humans and then peasants has had an effect in your upbringing -Note of Brindis: I like this guy he is quite right about Paolo-, but you MUST remember: BE PROUD of being one of us Italian cats.
Paolo, write soon to us as let us know you are OK. Your cousins are looking forward to see you and perhaps we could arrange for you to liase with one of my single daughters. So we can keep the family blood pure – Note from Brindis: and Stupid.
The Supreme Cat protects you. Love, Health, money and long life to enjoy it.
Salvatore DI Medici
Ravenna Cat Council - President
by Paolo
Dear readers, my cousin Salvatore has written to me!. Master Brindis was surprised and was kind enough to read the letter for me, even if it took some time to translate (Cousin Salvatore has a scrappy handwriting).
Here I have copied the letter (in English) for the delight of my fans:
Ravenna, Adriatic Coast
Primero Setembre 2003
Caro Fausto Paulo, (Note from Paolo: Fausto is my old name)
You might not remember me, but I am the son of your mother’s brother Giuliano Fausto, so I am your direct cousin, I wouldn’t be surprised it you did not remember me as I am quite old (20), and I saw you when a little kitten with closed eyed. I have special memories of you, the only child of Margaretta! - Note from Brindis: this explains the retarded mental age-, the piccolino as we say in the Mother country.
How did I find you? Coincidence and coincidence, it was ought to be. Last week near my home, a friendly dog named Blue whose owner runs a Mosaic workshop told me about a lady with the name of Silvia, that is doing a course in mosaic with his mistress. This lady Silvia has mentioned the "ownership" of cat of Italian origin, but English family, blue eyed, blonde, and very good at football, and other details. As Blue was telling me more details I worked out that that cat could have been you. Not so sure I contact some friends in Ferrara and from there to Tuscany and confirmed the existence of a Dutch Farm in the Italian countryside (part of the story from Blue).
You don’t know how long we have been looking for you! And we (my wife, six sons and 3 daughters) are surprised that you are en la terra inglesa, and that you have even lived in Amsterdam. Oh piccolino! When I heard that your mother Margaretta died, I was so sorry to hear, but it was a bad time for me, my first wife also died (oh, Bernadetta, the Supreme Cat protect you) and having 4 boys and 2 girls to take care was a difficult task. Later, The Supreme Cat put in my path my second wife Adriana, and life is better with her, and I have 2 more boys and 1 more girl with her.
Anyway I never forgot you. As soon as it was possible I sent my older son Marco to look for you. The poor boy was at risk but it was too late: you were sold due to your beauty – your mother was very beautiful, and you father a real macho italiano, Belo, Belo! – to a Italian lady with two small children. Marco heard that the children developed an allergy to you - Note from Brindis: if he had the same habits than now I am not surprised- and the lady left you in the hills of Tuscany. Where last you were seen in the company of some peasant Tuscanian cats in a Dutch Farm. Marco was not able to find the farm and came back home.
I worried so deeply about you. As the last member of a familia princepesca – your father is a direct descendant of the English cats that fought for the independence and reunification of Italian cats – and from your mother side, well we are direct descendants of the Roman and Byzantine cats. You are unique and I am glad the lady Silvia will take with her to the terra inglesa pictures of the life in this part of the world and you can then perhaps take knowledge -Note from Brindis: If only!- of your ancestry and be proud!.
I can imagine that living since little age in the company of humans and then peasants has had an effect in your upbringing -Note of Brindis: I like this guy he is quite right about Paolo-, but you MUST remember: BE PROUD of being one of us Italian cats.
Paolo, write soon to us as let us know you are OK. Your cousins are looking forward to see you and perhaps we could arrange for you to liase with one of my single daughters. So we can keep the family blood pure – Note from Brindis: and Stupid.
The Supreme Cat protects you. Love, Health, money and long life to enjoy it.
Salvatore DI Medici
Ravenna Cat Council - President
