Hi everyone. Dundee here. I know, I know, I’m not supposed to be on the counter, but I thought I’d say hello and bring you up to date on what’s going on in the World of Dundee. Oh yes, and Clementine. 

The parents have been around a lot lately. I’m not sure why. They don’t seem to go anywhere, anymore. Don’t they know there is a big wide world out there? I’m just dying to explore it. I’m spending hours trying to figure out how to get outside.

Not that I’m complaining. It’s very comfortable inside, and the food is good, though more treats would not go amiss.

Clementine and I still play a bit, but mostly because she starts it. 


Clementine gets to go out, but on a leash. Yuck. Every morning Mum & Dad make her sit down and put on that strappy, uncomfortable-looking contraption. Then she, Churchill, Mum and Dad go for a walk. That’s not the kind of exploring I’m trying to do. You wouldn’t catch me being led around the neighbourhood with that thing on my face.

Clementine and Churchill do look like they have fun in the back yard, though. Especially when it snows. 

Taylor is pretty quiet now. She’s more than fourteen years old, and I still love to snuggle up with her.

She’s the best.

Now that Burton is gone, I try to make sure Taylor has someone to cuddle with. Works for both of us.

Mum says there’s nothing wrong with Taylor’s appetite. She chows with the best of them but doesn’t walk as far these days. She mostly just hangs around the house, eats, plays war-face with Churchill and Clementine, and goes on short walks. There they are: Churchill is on the left, Clementine in the middle and woolly old Taylor is on the right. Mum makes them wait outside while she prepares the food so they don’t trip her. 

Sometimes Clementine and Churchill get to go to something called “the beach”. They come back all wet – shudder – but I hear them talking and saying they had a good time. Anything that involves getting soaked and sandy does NOT appeal to me. We cats like to be clean. And dry.

We can spend hours getting clean.

The face, especially. It’s hard to get all the little crevices, using just your front paws and your tongue.

What? You think it’s easy? It’s not.

You have to very carefully lick off the paw, then the face, then the paw again. It takes great concentration. 

And when it’s all done, you can curl up for a nap.

I loooove to nap…

But wait, before we nap, I have something to tell you.

Do you know my sister, Moxie? That’s her. The grey tabby.

She gets to go out. By herself. No leash, no harness, no getting all sandy. Sometimes she comes back a bit damp, but nothing like the dogs.

My other sister, Ronnie, does not go out. Doesn’t even try. She used to sneak out every once in a while, but it scared her too much. She doesn’t like it. She tells me there is nothing out there that I would like, and I should just stay in.

I think she’s wrong. Moxie goes out all the time. In and out, in and out. What’s with that? She says she has to continue to demonstrate her independence, whatever that means. She says you should never let humans get the upper paw. So she waits until one of the parents sits down and gets comfortable, and then starts yelling to go out again. 

When she wants to come back in, she just hangs around on the outdoor table and waits. Then someone lets her in, says how glad they are to see her and gives her treats.

It makes me so mad. I want out, too.

Let me out! I’ll keep pounding at this door until someone opens it.

Hey – you out there – Mum – open the door.

Oh – sorry Mum – didn’t mean to be quite so rude.

You’re not mad at me, are you?

Of course, she isn’t. She thinks I’m wonderful. She says so, all the time.

Sometimes she needs a little direction on giving me treats. I have to show her where they are because she forgets.

Here – Mum – Hey!


Finally! Now, I just have to get my paw in there without knocking the entire container over, like last time. I hate wasting good treats on those dogs.

Now it’s time for another nap. I especially like naps in bed, after Mum has pulled up the covers and made them all smooth. They call this “making the bed” for some reason. Humans are so weird. I crawl up under the sheet because I get a little chilly.

Moxie prefers to sleep at the end of the bed, on top of the duvet.

Me –  I’m an under-the-sheet guy.

Even better is under both the sheet and the quilt. 

I’ll keep you posted about my quest for outdoor adventures. But until then, Night night, sleep well. I’m so very sleeeeepy…

I’m sharing this post with Between Naps on the Porch.