chewing gum

FB status update. 01/06/2014:

“Laptop has finally died from terminal illness. Am unable to get over the hill to spend what could feed a small african village for a year on a new one. My “smart” phone provides fractured 3rd rate internet at best ( the 2nd time i’ve posted this status as the last one disappeared into the interwebs somewhere) . I am living the pinnacle of 1st world problems. If there is no soy milk for my double decaf soy chai orange mocha frappacinno latte today… I’m gonna feckin kill myself!!”
A few things. “THE HILL” is what separates my small isolated town from the rest of the world. It is roughly 25km of long winding road, peaking at approx 791 mtrs at its highest point. The closest ‘City’ is about a 104km /1.75 hour drive from where I live.
It would be a month before I would have a window of time to get over “the hill” to get my technology situation sorted.
I don’t ACTUALLY drink  double decaf soy chai orange mocha frappacinno lattes. That’s just silliness.They are revolting!
As it turns out, on this very day my Tahi had a playdate organised for 1pm. At 12.40pm his wee friend called in sick. Being that Tahi does not often get playdates due to having  limited social skills, he was gutted. As was I, for him. However… this  led me to the thought that perhaps now was the time to seize the day. Carpe diem so to speak. I immediately rung the electronics store in the city over ‘the hill’ and spoke  to a lovely sounding chap called Jack.He informed me they closed at 5pm. BOOM!!!  It was on. I rallied Tahi, Rua and Toru and packed them away in the car. We were off to get some new computer thingees and get out of our wee town for an afternoon.
We would also see my Gentleman friend who is living over ‘the hill’.A  lovely chap whom I will hereby refer to as “Fatty Ding Dong’.Mostly cos it’s  funny. Having dated for some months he has only recently met my offspring. They were very charming indeed and gave him no indication that in fact we are all rather mental and louder and more full on than a Metallica concert on a 5 day meth bender. He even came back. WIN. He is a little bit into geekery  and since my laptop had died had been doing some investigations into what type of computer would best suit my needs. I rung him to let him know the circus was coming over the hill to by computery things sooner than anticipated and that I didn’t need him to come to the shop cos I’m a big girl and can buy computery thingees all by myself and I  would call him after the trip to the electronics store and we could go and let the kids out  for a run at a park whilst we throw balls for them ,drink coffee and pick up their little kiddie doos in wee plastic bags or some such yolk. That suited Fatty Ding Dong just fine.Off we went on our big city adventure.
Now my boys LOVE chewing gum. Especially Rua. He will ask for that and ONLY that for christmas, birthdays etc.That is pretty much the only time they will get it too. However, if it is in my bag, Rua on several occasions has been known to steal it and go and hide under his bed chewing it ALL,leaving a trail of chewing gum wrappers to the crime scene.  He will offer some to his brothers in exchange for their silence. Sadly for him…his open love for gum  is his teller.  Going shopping anywhere with an 8 yr old ADHD kid , a 5 yr old and 3.5 year old who could easily represent New Zealand in a contest of “Epic Tantrums of the World’ , is not an easy task. Let alone  having to go to a store where you must actually listen to the sales person for 30 mins and not have your rampant offspring break expensive electronics. Clearly chewing gum bribery was in order. I stopped at the petrol station and grabbed 3 packs of chewing gum. I explained to my boys that the chewing gum was theirs ,IF they could follow 3 simple rules. 1.Don’t touch anything
2. Don’t fight with each other
3. No yelling and screaming.
3 strikes…and no chewing gum.
For those of you that don’t have small children this sounds reasonable and easy enough. For those of you that DO have small children…I know you are, at this very moment, laughing hysterically  at my hopeful naivety. Thank you. The boys understood what was expected of them and agreed to the terms and conditions of the chewing gum contract. We were all in good spirits. We arrived at the electronic store at about the same time Tahi’s ADHD meds were due to start wearing off. He was doing great and I knew time was limited. I beelined for the counter and asked for Jack who was just finishing up with another customer. Jack was a slight man of about 21. He looked like he might be someone who might spend a bit of time in his room , at his parents house, playing computer games with people on the other side of the world. He struck me as a man who had perhaps just been dumped, had his car fail it’s warrant of fitness and lost his BFF cos he ran off with his girlfriend all in one week. To top it all off, he looked to have had a hard day in the shop and just couldn’t wait to get himself home and into the womb of his meticulously built imaginary world of war games. And then along came us. Lucky lucky man.
To be fair it all started very well. My children all skipped into the shop holding hands with their   neatly combed blond  hair. Their white little trousers matching their white little shirts, offset by their wee blue suspenders. Their shiny little leather boots glistened in the afternoon sun as they stood quietly behind their relaxed mother. Each dreaming of the chewing gum bliss that was only a few sweet  moments away. If only Jack would hurry up. My three blue/green-eyed angels skipped happily over to the cordless mouse section as I finally engaged the  frazzled Jack. ” Hi Jack. I need some computery stuff and a tablet. Lets do this!”  Jack was more than happy to oblige and was clearly optimistic and excited to make a good sale. Lucky lucky man.
It was on our way to the laptop section of the electronic shop that I noticed that the angelic Toru had taken it upon himself to grab one of the cordless mouse things and start shaking it. As any good relaxed mother who had made her offspring sign a chewing gum contract  in their own blood would, I reminded Toru of the  chewing gum contract and lightly let  him know that he had made his first strike.  At this very moment something strange happened. 2 little horns instantly grew from his little blonde head. His white shirt turned into sleeves of demonic tattoos and his  light angelic voice dropped about 3 octaves. He responded with  “NO! I WANT TO TOUCH EVERYTHING!!!” and promptly proceeded to do so with intense fervour. In doing this he seemed to suck away any remaining effects of medication that may have been holding Tahi together . Just like blowing up a balloon and then letting it go to see it noisily and uncontrollably dart around a room,….Tahi LOST.HIS.SHIZZLE. He started jumping excitedly up and down in one spot and laughing like a complete mad man. I quickly  stepped into carnage deflection mother mode. I gave Toru a mouse and told him he had a very important job to do. He was to hold on to this mouse and make sure he did not lose it because we were going to buy it for our new computer. He was happy with this arrangement. I told Tahi he was to follow me to the laptop section and stay close to me at all times. We got there and Jack started telling me all about all the different laptops. ” blah blah ram yadda yadda terrabytes blah graphic stick yadda yadda blah blah”
 ” Hmm yes Jack. Just a minute Jack. Toru! put that down please. Tahi, please dont wedgie your little brother! Sorry were saying..?”
” Geekery geekery better performance yadda yadda n’ stuff” .
“Sorry, excuse me Jack. Toru do not put your tongue in that! Tahi! Stop telling your brother to put his tongue in that and give him back the mouse. NOW! I said NOW!!!!!. Thank you.”
At this point I was smart enough to see where this was all going.So I took it to the next level of Super Nanny parenting. I instructed Tahi  to come and have some time out. He was to sit in the corner next to the laptop section so as to avoid  having him wind up his brothers. As he loudly made his feelings about this arrangement known to all and sundry  I noticed Rua mooching around the shop. Just looking. Not touching. Through all of Tahi’s protests he obediently made his way to the new  time out spot and sat down. Now  I was able to slim my options down to 2 computers. Progress. Then it happened. Toru discovered that if he went through the little white gate by the door with the mouse in his hand it made a very loud and entertaining beeping noise. Wohoo for him! Back and forth and back and forth. “Excuse me Jack. Toru. You mustn’t do that!” to which he replied in his deep demon voice “I WANT TO!!” “Right Toru. That’s 3 strikes buddy. No chewing gum for you” Wrong answer Mum. He looked at me and replied innocently “But I want chewing gum”  Though what he was ACTUALLY saying was  ” I couldn’t care less about your chewing gum lady. Your grey hair, dark bags under your eyes and recent plague of wrinkles gives me more joy than any of your pathetic chewing gum ever could. Sucker!” It was that this very moment something beautiful happened. Like a knight in shining armour, Fatty Ding Dong strolled casually through the door. His unshaved face and unkempt hair from a day in his workshop was  like a ray of sunshine on  a rainy day. Immediately butterflies started smashing into each other on my insides as they tried to escape and flutter towards the sunlight. In my joy I turned towards Tahi “Hey look” I said “Fatty Ding DOng is here”  Instantly the butterflies dropped dead.  Tahi had managed get himslef to lying on his back with his knees up around his ears. He was slightly rocking whilst slapping himself on his bum and occasionally trying to poke his finger in his jean clad orifice. He was making a noise that I could only think was fluent Gorilla speak.He was also dribbling like a drunk on ketamine. He was having a ball. My body filled with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Fatty Ding Dong was surely gonna run a mile when he got a load of us in full swing. Nevertheless I put on my brave face and smiled a happy smile. In actual fact I prayed that the ground would open up and swallow us all and Fatty Ding Dong would never know what a circus uncontrolled fruit loops he had stumbled upon. I continued to chat with Jack about general Geekery whilst the offspring fawned over Fatty Ding Dong and tried to impress him with their butt jokes and songs of poo. He  offered to take them for a walk so I could get on with it. I scoffed at him and over casually said ” Dude. Yeah nah , it’s cool. . This is nothing. Really. No big deal. Just a casual shopping trip.I got this. And even if I wanted you to I wouldn’t tell you cos I need you to think I’m superwoman.  How about you talk to Jack here and let me know which one of these 2 computers you think is the way to go”. He obliged. Meanwhile I set about putting order back into my spawn. I sent Tahi to sit out by the doors of the shop. I needed to make sure that him and Toru were separated as the two  of them seem feed eachothers madness. I ignored him rolling around in front of the door and the customers that had to step over his writhing body as they entered the shop sharing a knowingly amused and encouriaging smile with me. I passed Rua  as he sat and watched large TV that was showing car racing.I picked up the 20kg’s of Toru and started looking at tablets. Jack soon joined us and we started talking tablets. Turns out that was hard work. Toru wriggled whilst I tried to find a tablet that would work for our family. Sadly no cast iron ones. I eventually put Toru down and he started darting around the shop. Tahi kept calling him over to the doors. In and out he would run and I would pick out tablets only for Jack to find they had none left in stock. Poor Jack looked like he was about to cry. Eventually I just told him that “Whatever  would do. I just want to get the hell out of here”. He obliged. With laptops, tablets,a mouse, a new phone and god knows what else we  finally got to the counter. Toru  started running around outside and Tahi started threatening to sit on the road cos obviously I didn’t care about him and I was the meanest mother in the world. I couldn’t see Rua anymore. I called out across the shop to Fatty Ding Dong to see if he could sight him. All good. They were hanging out. I went outside , grabbed Toru and threw him over my shoulder. He kicked and screamed in his demonic voice and demanded I put him down whilst Tahi begged for us to go now. Were we finished yet? Would he get his chewing gum? Why can’t he have his chewing gum?  Poor Jack looked like he was about to cry. Clearly it had all been a bit much for him too. Eventually the deal was done. The bags were full of goodies and it was time for me and my  circus of little angels from hell to leave the shop.As I turned to leave I saw little Rua standing quietly behind me. He looked at me with his big blue eyes and spoke directly to me for the first time in this whole experience  “Mama are we finished now?”
” Yup Rua. We sure are”
” Yes Rua. What’s up?”
” Umm…May I please have my chewing gum now? “



” Mama….why don’t you sit with  us at breakfast time? Why do you sit at the other table and play on Facebook?”
A question Tahi asked today that really got me thinking. Why DO I do this?   I always thought it was a way of easing myself into the day.  A way of breaking onto my day in a quiet fashion.I know it is an avoidance of the boys. A way to wake up without being bombarded with Sugar Spoons and talks of farts and poos.  Seriously….our breakfast table makes feeding time at the zoo look like high tea with the Queen. I do it every night for dinner..and that’s enough for me.
I am often asked if I have seen this show or that show. Usually my answer is no. I don’t really watch TV. I have never been much of a TV watcher. Most programmes are shit these days. So I spend my evenings chatting on the Facebook and cruising around on You Tube spending endless hours watching Joshua Homme drunkenly abuse the world. Personally I don’t think there is any issue with that. I’d rather do that than watch TV. However my boys question really got me thinking. Am I missing out by not having breakfast with them at the table?  What was life like before FB? Would I be a different kind of Mother  without it?  Or is FB what I have always suspected it to be for me. A substitute for terrible television. Am I more in touch with my friends  or less in touch with them? Do I really care what people had for dinner last night? Or that their child is 17 mths 2 days and 3 minutes old.( I actually already know the answer to the last 2  questions)

I am going to do an experiment. I am going to attempt  to do 100 days without logging on to Facebook. I will attempt to sit at the breakfast table with my boys for each of the mornings that they are with me. I will attempt to not let TV replace the time I would normally spend on FB. I will observe how in or out of touch I feel with my friends and family. To be open to hearing  about how in or out of touch they feel with me. Will I eat more/less? Will I use my phone more/less? Will I read to my children more or find they are driving me even crazier and  finally book a one way ticket for one to Jamaica? I really have no idea what to expect.. It is simply an experiment. A way to try to answer a very simple question asked  by my eldest son.
So as of August 31st until December 9th…I wil be Facebook free…..and probably blogging my tits off.



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So yesterday I took my 7 yr old Tahi to his 1st game of Miniball for the season. For those of you that don’t know…Miniball is like Basketball for wee ones. For those of you that don’t know Tahi….saying that Tahi is controlling,  over dramatic and inflexible in play, would be an understatement at the very least.

I loaded the boys into the car and headed off for the Primary school . The whole way Tahi told me he was feeling scared. He asked that if he didn’t like Miniball , could he quit the team. He was terrified the others might tackle him or that he might drop the ball and get laughed at. I too was feeling a little nervous. This is the 1st of my boys to do the whole ‘School Sport’ thing. My dear  Tahi has the co-ordination of a drunken Chicken at the best of times. I soo wanted Tahi to feel proud of himself today and know him well enough to know that his challenges often leave him feeling like a failure. All the Miniball Mums would be there, talking about their children’s latest achievements. Swapping recipes and telling lovely wee anecdotes of how their husband and children did that cute  funny thing together whilst they were all out frolicking through a paddock of fresh spring lambs on their families ‘Sunday FUNday’ this week. Yep…I was dreading it.  Visions of Tahi having a melt down on the court cos he didn’t catch the ball while Toru had one of his epic 3 yr old tantrums. Rua would  try to get his 4 yr old self onto the court so he could play with his big brother and disrupt the entire game. The Miniball Mums would look at me with pity and dissapproval..They would smell my fear in a heart beat and pounce. I was sure of it. Saying things like ..” Wow…I don’t know how you do it? I only have 2 boys and I find it exhausting…AND I have a husband to help!” , “But you’re dong such a GREAT  job” * patronising smile to boot*.  ” If you ever need a break….”      Bah humbug!!!!!

As we arrived at the lions den, I was delighted to see that my dear friend , Rose, the English Rose was there too. She too has 3 children . Her daughter had signed up for miniball as well. Her 4 yr old boy ‘ Mitch’ is having a Bromance with Rua and was happy to see us arrive. Sweet!! That would be Rua entertained for the duration of the game . We sat down and prepared to watch. As it turns out ,when the school asked for volunteer coaches for the season… I had promptly pretended I didn’t get the memo and ignored the request but  Babydaddy had volunteered.However..Babydaddy works at sea. Week on. Week off. This week he was away…and whilst the ‘The Breakers’ had their Miniball Mum coach sitting on her teams bench all  “I’m so supportive and   coachy like”, my wee fellas team ‘The Red Bulls’ had an empty bench. The teacher in charge stood on the court and said “Would someone please volunteer to coach The Red Bulls for this game?. They  really need someone”. She was looking directly at me. Of ALL the keen perfect Miniball Mums she had could have stabbed with her eyes of lasery emotional guilt trips…she laser beamed ME.!!! There was no avoiding eye contact and slinking away out of this one. Dammit! “Sure Ms  Laser Eyes, I’d LOVE to do it” * does best impersonation of happy to help cos I’m and enthusiastic Miniball Mum smile*

I made my way to the bench. Making sure I asked what exactly it was I was supposed to be doing. ” Only ever 5 on the court at a time.Just make sure they all get a turn on the court” said Ms Laser Eyes. . Sweet. I could do that. So I sat on the bench and did the best I could to appear to look like I knew how the game was played.. To have them think that perhaps …in a past life I had played in the NBA.There  was 5 on the court already. I sat next to 3 boys. 2 of them had shaved head and rats tails. Brothers. Bob was the eldest. Chopper was his younger brother and stood at about 3ft  high. Also there was Mike. A tall solid lad that, I suspect, may have something up with his hand, as it curled over a bit like a hook if it was resting. Instantly  Bob  was at me. “Can I go on the court? I wanna get out there!! Oh come on. When’s it gonna be MY turn. It’s not fair!!”  Ohhh goooodddd!! I was in for 20 minutes of this!!  Mike just sat quietly. The game started and I proceeded to  internally  curse Babydaddy and his stupid volunteering to coach and his stupid job making him not be there and his stupid making me pick up HIS slack. This carry on was partly why I left him. I was STILL having to do it. Dumb  feckin’ Babydaddy!!!

The game started. I held my breath anticipating Tahi might  trip over his own feet in any second. My subs started yelling out encouraging tips to The Red Bulls. Things like “WASTE THEM YO!!” : “JUST FOOT TRIP THEM, YOU EGGS!”  “KICK THEIR BUTTS!!” Within a minute into the game it happened. The ball was passed to Tahi. For a fleeting second I could read the fear and self-doubt pulsing through his little body. All eyes were on him.  I held my breath.He bounced the ball and moved with it. He stopped. He passed it. Tahi, my unco little chicken,was grinning from ear to ear. He had done it. YUSSS!!. At that moment,Chopper the delightful 3ft blonde rats tail kid looked up at me with his wee eyes and said..” I just wanna get out there and SMASH the other team”.  ” Then SMASH them you will , Daniel son”. I started subbing the kids on and off. Little chopper went like a firecracker. I’m not sure he ever got to touch the ball, but he was having a blast running from goal to goal. Mike was a machine. A big strong lad that could move the ball from one end to the other. No one could stand in his way. A  8 yr old  miniball version of  Jonah Lomu if you will. These kids were alright. I found myself calling out things like.. . “Pass it” “Just take a shot” ” Good effort Chopper” . I was even clapping and shit!!  Half time came and it was time for  a wee team talk. I started..” It’s not how you play the game…It’s whether you win or lose. Oh. I mean…ummm….at the end of the day …it’s a game of 2 halves….hit the showers! Oh shit. umm hang’s only half time…ummmmm”  Fortunately  Rose, the English Rose  was a netball player and had come over to sit with me on the bench. She had some tips for the team that seemed pretty sound.  ” Yep. Do what she said” I barked.

The rest of the game was much like the start.. Tahi occasionally got the ball and managed to pass it on and even get a few shots at the goal. Young Chopper darted around the court with maximum enthusiasm and minimal direction. The kids subbed on and off with little fuss  and I found myself thoroughly enjoying myself.Cooper got a Goal for the Red Bulls and the team roared with excitement. As did I.

By the end of it all I had had a blast. The kids enthusiasm and excitement was contagious. I was all over this Coaching yolk. Perhaps I would be more than happy to be Babydaddy’s fill in when he works. Babydaddy would rather drink a cup of cold sick than have to work with me in any way shape or form. But feck him. Drink away  Babydaddy cos I’m getting me a Bumper sticker that says ” Honk if you’re a miniball mum and lovin’ it ”


So at about 1 am a few mornings ago I awoke to an awful noise.A loud blood-curdling noise. A noise that evoked terror to my very core. A noise that had me praying for the life of one of my bestest , coolest friends.  Right outside my bedroom window , my beloved cat Ziggy ,was protecting his territory and his family. Keeping the evils of the neighbouring cats away from his precious loved ones.  I listened to the deep hateful exchanges between  the two cats. Hisses and growls that would have sent shivers up the spine of  Chuck Norris . And then……..the part  of the fight when one of them makes the actual move and it’s all on. As I listened to the hissing and screaming and banging and crashing on my deck, my darling Ziggy’s life flashed before the back of my eyelids.

Now I have had a few cats in my life. I am by no means a Crazy Cat Lady type. I don’t spoil or live and breathe for my cats. I have 3 children.There is simply no time for that claptrap. I do love feline company however, especially if they are independent. Needy,timid, over affectionate, foot weavy, yowly  little cats don’t get a look in.They have to be  big strong, chilled and mostly do their own thing. Much like my men.

There was Tyson. The psycho tabby that adopted me in my early  flatting years. A lovely cat until you looked at her the wrong way. She would then  maul you.Your hands rucked and bitten to pieces quicker than you can say “Do you mind if I just rest my lips on your ear Mr Holyfield?”. Tyson was a bitch.Though I did soften to her when  I woke one morning to discover a dead bird next to the gifts at the bottom of the flat Christmas tree.  I adopted her out when I moved to Australia.   There was Thomas the family cat. A ginger Tom who had been a stray. We inherited him with a house Mum and I  moved into when I was 14. He  was the human equivalent of someone who should always have been a completely retarded  and socially inept cat. There was Knickers whom ,as a kitten I saved from the bottom of a pub I was working at. She was a lovely cat.I was very fond of her. My heart really did break the day we had to have her put down due to liver failure. That poor cat died whilst being showered in sobbing tears and the snot of devastation.Then there was a pure black cat we adopted from the SPCA  for Tahi’s 6th birthday. We named him Richie McClaw. A fine young fellow. The kind of cat that would attack your feet in the middle of the night and would actually laugh at you when you awoke screaming in surprised pain. A cat that would  leave a decapitated Hare lying in a bloodbath in your lounge for your arrival home from work. A chap who would hide behind doors and ambush you. Flying at you with all four legs, claws out for the attack, from  a horizontal position when you entered the room. Again he would retreat laughing manically. A real character of a cat. Also a real wanderer. He wandered a lot. One day, sadly, he just didn’t come home. Being that I reside in a rather small town, I later learnt that his wanderings had him stumble across a couple of hot middle-aged lesbians with no young children to cramp his style. They adore him. He is happy and now named Malcom.

After Richie I thought my cat days were over . That perhaps it was just going to be me and my small army of boys for a while. One Easter Sunday , I was lunching with my dear friend Lulu at her mother’s house. Her Mum runs the local SPCA. After a filling lunch with their friends and family I suggested to Lulu that we just go and have a ‘look’ at the cats. It would be good to walk around a bit and digest the lunch for Baby Jesus. She kindly obliged and off we went. Now I really was JUST looking. no intention of taking anything away with me.  I walked into the shelter and there he was. A handsome  adult Tabby/White prince. Majestically sitting there, watching us as we entered. He was  built like an over sized All Black. We made eye contact, him and me. He held my gaze , smiling at me with his princely cat eyes, as the other willing cats weaved around my feet relentlessly  yowling at me. I walked over to him, in slow motion, through a patch of daffodils and I swear I could hear Roberta Flack  singing ‘ Fist Time Ever I Saw Your Face’ from the lounge of Lulu’s house. I put my hand out. He immediately  stood and head butted my hand.The cat is 6″3 ft!!! Seriously. He is HUGE!. I think he might  have originally been a Lion, but after years of soul-searching, he finally accepted that inside there was a domestic cat just dying to get out. I pass no judgement on gender change. I picked him up thinking ” Girl, don’t use your back like a crane”. We had a moment. I fell in love. Right there, right then, that cat won my heart. In classic Me style, I ran. Told Lulu I had to go and skidaddled. ( Gawd, you know you have serious commitment issues when the love of a good cat sends you running for the hills)  I was NOT going to get another bloody cat. ! No Sir-ee!

I thought about him allll week. The feel of his soft white belly. His Goliath pink nose nudging my face. It really was love. I spoke to my boy Tahi to see how he felt about  getting another cat. He was dead keen… long as we named him after David Bowie. We  had a deal. As we drove to the SPCA we threw around names. Bowie. Major Tom.Gene Genie. Jareth . McJagger Shagger,etc. Through it all we came up with Ziggy Stardust. And so it was we went and collected the delightful Ziggalicious. Upon collection we saw that he has a big brown patch in one of his eyes. Different eyes. Just like David Bowie!!! Totally meant to be, or what?!

He has been awesome for this family. He is super chilled with the boys. They pull his tail and pinch his ears. He takes it. They pick him up and drag him around the house. He takes it. They love him and squeeze him and sit on him. He takes it.He sleeps on their bed. They take it. He does his own thing during the day and  at night comes in and lets me scratch his belly whilst he lies all over my computer keyboard. He doesn’t yowl and weave through my feet in the kitchen telling me he’s hungry. Though he does eat a lot and talk a bit. Due to his gargantuan size, he can tend to be clumsy. He provides the family with endless giggles as he constantly misjudges the height of things and crashes head-first into said object  or only JUST makes his mark and has to use his back legs to scramble up just that little bit more. As we shriek with laughter at him he will regain his composure and look at us with indignant exasperation . He also does that cat thing where he sits outside at your ranch-slider just looking at you, willing you to let him in. We open the door for him and he will then spend 10 minutes deciding if actually does want to come in. Half in and half out. Just looking around. He has a cat door. Asshole. Otherwise he is the most chilled cat with the oldest soul I have ever met. We were destined to find each other.

As I listened to the  brawl happening outside my bedroom window , I contemplated going out there and scaring the other cat away. My gut tells me in these situations tho, that we are to leave them. That perhaps if I was to go out there and interfere in his man fight time, he would become the laughing-stock of the neighbourhood cats. That even his stray friends whom he goes and hangs  out with on Friday night to do a bit of Catnip, listen to some Cypress Hill and play some poker with, would disown him ( he does do catnip. I found some in his basket once. I’m not sure how to broach it with him though).  So , I lay there and listened. Feeling tense and scared for my cat. It went on for about 30 seconds. I have never heard anything like it since last time I heard it. Then…….. Nothing.

When I got up the following morning, awaiting me outside on my deck was a pile of cat fur. It was everywhere. White. Black. Grey. Cat Fur. Everywhere! I called out for my man. I heard a meow then strutting around the corner came my 6″3 ft  cat. Not  a scratch on him. My Ziggy had kicked some serious butt!  I know I live in a hippy town and all, and violence is not cool, but seriously….my cat must be MAD scrapper.  I am confidant , that if any gang of local Pirate cats get together and decide to come to my house and rape and pillage this family…That my Ziggalicious Rockstar of a cat will handle it. In fact…I think he would probably take on the local Rugby Team too. Take that shizzle in his stride. He is sooo the Chuck Norris of cats. Hells to the YES people. My cat is a BOSS. Period!