CHRISTMAS GREETINGS FROM THE PUSSY PALACE IN THE SKY

Some of you won't remember me although the name - Mr. Manky - is sometimes mentioned with nostalgia. It leaves a little tear in the eye for those who were my friends so I thought that as Christmas 2012 approaches it was time to send you a message from this Pussy Palace in the Sky. Since floating up here in September 2007 I've settled in well. As many of you know, I was never a celeb pussy because my looks were a little strange. Remember how I was always being treatred for those weepy eyes. They didn't help my image and I certainly wasn't the prettiest pussy in and around Hadleigh Road. So the name, Mr. Manky, was quite appropriate really. I've made a few friends here at the Pussy Palace in the Sky. Most of us are in our twilight years and we often sit around meowing about old times. You know the sort of things, catching baby sparrows, spraying in neighbours' gardens, sleeping on the best furniture when nobody is in the house. Some of my pussy pals also have some funny stories about having a good hiss-up with the local canine enemy. Ah! Happy days! Sorry to see so many of our new arrivals have still struggled to come to terms with road safety and the Highway Code. Those dare-devil dashes from one side of the road to the other to try and beat the traffic are a risk especially if there's a 4x4 speeding along in a 30 mph zone. If you fail to get to the other side in time then - SPLAT. That's an immediate one-way journey to the Pussy Palace in the Sky. All my problems - the bad teeth, matted fur, toxic breath, weepy eyes - have cleared up since arriving here. The National Pussy Palace in the Sky Health Service has not suffered from spending cuts and the standard of care is excellent. I actually feel like a new Pussy these days. So as you tuck into the turkey and open the presents at Christmas think of me here in heaven. I have a lot of friends, especially those who use to live at 42 Marine Avenue in Leigh, at Kenilworth and at Little Orchard in Tibberton. A recent newcomer was Arthur and we are very good pals. He's a very handsome fellow. So uncork a bottle of Meow Medicine - know what I mean? - and remember all of us as you have a tipple. Happy Christmas from Mr. Manky.

THE LAST POST

I must apologise to all my readers for not keeping you posted about my progress over the last few months. In fact, it's worse than that. I am no longer able to log on because yesterday I moved on to the great pussy palace in the sky.

It was such a hectic final few hours that I wasn't able to do all the things on earth that pussies in my situation want to do. My illness became really bad over the last few weeks and that's something you have to expect at 14 or 15 years old. Couldn't hear very much and wasn't able to wash. The old ginger fur was dirty and I really did look like a Mr. Manky. But to have a blog like this enables me to say a few goodbyes.

Amazing, isn't it, the power of the world wide web. Here I am, looking down on you all, and still able to keep in touch. But this will be the last post - an appropriate turn of phrase don't you think.

So where did I come from? Well, that is a mystery really because my memory has faded badly over the last year and it has wiped out my previous existence - probably the first 12 years of my life has been lost. It's more than likely I belonged to someone who also departed from this earth - and when that happened I was on my own.

But those nice people from the big house round the corner - number 70 - were very kind. They gave me shelter and comfort - even if I was a bit suspicious of their hospitality at first. Sorry about that but I am sure you will understand how confused I was. Anyway, I eventually went inside the big house and they provided a nice, sleeping corner under the radiator. On cold winter nights it was heaven - oops; wrong choice of word in the circumstances but you know what I mean.

The last few months haven't been too easy but I was well looked after. There was a nice box in the garage as well as the blanket under the radiator. Not many pussies can say they had a second home to visit from time to time. But my teeth were getting worse, I was losing weight, sleeping all day and drinking a lot of water. There was not much point in going to see the vet because you know what he would have said - and promptly presented those nice people at number 70 with a £100 bill 'for services'.

I won't give you the details of the last few hours because it's better to think about the good times and all the kindness that was shown to me by Pat, Geoffrey and David. Anyone who saw me in those last few months would know why I was called Mr. Manky. I wonder what my original name was.

So here I am, with thousands of others in this pussy paradise and will certainly not go short of friends. Life on earth was not too bad - and I was grateful for the kindness and understanding of the people at number 70 who took me in. Pat was always willing to give me some variation in diet - Waitrose do a nice line in cat food - but in those final months there wasn't much that I fancied.

So goodbye to you all. Don't shed too many tears. We all go on a long journey sometimes and I have arrived happily from mine. Showing a little kindness to someone who is lost and in distress is something that I appreciated. Thanks.

Better go and get the tissues now!

Mr. Manky signing off.

NO MORE FREEZING NIGHTS OUTSIDE!

Now this is good news. I have just been told that my nights will not be spent out in a cold, damp garage. From tonight, I am being allowed to stay indoors under the radiator. It will be bliss!

Have I been forgiven for my previous indiscretions? It looks like it. It must have been a dodgy diet that caused the two accidents I had but now I shall make a real effort and not create any nasty smells or mess in the house. Even I thought it was pretty dreadful.

The trouble is, when you want to go then you have to go. If the back door is locked and there's no cat flap then it's obvious what's going to happen. From now on there will be a dirt box next to the radiator as well so if I do get caught short it's possible to use the 'facilities'.

I was ejected each night around 11 o'clock, just when I was in a deep sleep. Wasn't any good protesting - which I did. I still finished up out in the cold for at least seven hours. Recently, though, I have been squealing and moaning at this treatment and in the end the plan worked. I have won a reprieve.

Now I'm back indoors - for 24 hours if I want to! And my little Petsmart house is there as well. It's all very cosy.

So there's a moral here somewhere. Don't feel that doing your business indoors leads to permanent exclusion. Human hearts can soften with time. But I must learn to control myself otherwise I will be out in the cold again.

MORE DISGRACE!

It's not been easy for me in the last few days. I have to go out every night and sleep in a box in the garage. That's because I had an accident in the kitchen and even I have to admit - the smell was awful.

I just couldn't help it. I was alone in the kitchen, enjoying a few hours sleep under the radiator . It was very comfortable but suddenly I felt the need to visit the pussy toilet. Unfortunately nobody was around and despite meowing loudly nobody came to open the back door and let me out into the garden.

It didn't make any difference. In the end there was no choice but to squat and squit on the kitchen floor. It was a bit smelly I can tell you - but there was nothing else I could do.

When Pat came home she was furious. I was thrown out into the garden and she had to clear up the mess - which couldn't have been very nice. But you can't blame me. I wanted to go out and couldn't - so I had to do the business where I was.

Now I am only allowed into the house when the humans are around. If they go out - then so do I. It means spending more time in the cold garage but so far it's not too bad. I get a chance to write this blog when they are not looking. They don't realise that a cat can use a computer!

UNFORTUNATELY I DISGRACED MYSELF!

Well, here I am. I'm certainly not going to win any pretty pussy competitions. Who would want to stroke me.

I am manky. No doubt about it. I'm a thin, ginger moggy probably over 10 years old and spend most of my life outdoors. I have a weepy left eye and my coat is a bit grubby; that's because I live in a greenhouse in the Summer and the garage in the Winter. It's alright there - but a warm hearth rug in front of a glowing fire would be better.

Friends? I've only got a few - all human beings. Pat and David are the best because they took me in about four years ago when I had no home. They provided food - milk, some nice meat and a lot of cat food from Morrisons. Not complaining though because it keeps me going.

I use to sleep in their kitchen but that all ended a week or so ago. I had a nasty accident in the middle of the night and they didn't take too kindly to that. David came downstairs in the morning to make a cuppa - and didn't like what he saw on the floor and ran away immediately. Pat had to clear it up and use the disinfectant - but it happened again a few days later and it was Pat again who saw the pile on the mat near the back door and nearly passed out because of the pong.

So I was booted out sharpish. Have been in occasionally - but not for an overnight stay. Can't say I blame them really because I wouldn't like to clear up that mess.

I want to come back indoors at night but can't guarantee to behave myself. So for the time being it's the greenhouse or the garage. I'll let you know what happens.

But for now I would like to hear from some of you. Go on. Give Mr. Manky a boost.