The Loft

I thought the bank holiday would be nice. I’d planned to spend time outside in the sunshine chasing blades of grass blowing in the breeze. I’d come home whenever I felt like it and have attention from Pa and Ma. What I didn’t plan on was that there would be no sun, in fact there was mainly rain and my parents had a harebrained idea of using the bankholiday to rip out their ensuite and reinstall a new one.

This, of course, directly affected me. The noise from the drilling was amazingly loud but after the initial shock I decided I’d not let anything stop me sleeping… so I kept sleeping. After all, there was nothing outside of any interest unless I wanted soggy feet.

IMG_6273Today, however, things became far more interesting. After my morning nap which was rudely interrupted by Ma using the electric comb to kill any fleas – I’ll have you know, there are no fleas on me and there never were – things were getting as disruptive as they were the previous few days. Today the sun was shining though and after my cat nap I went out for a little while to see if I could see the bin men coming…. Not as yet so I went home. Upon reaching the top of the stairs an amazing thing happened. It doesn’t occur very often but every now and again these ladders appear from the sky. So the first thing to do was leap up those ladders before anyone could stop me. The only shot Ma got of me doing this was blurred because I moved so fast!

All I could think when I was there was to run round all over the floor and purr so loudly.


The loft insulation was amazing on my feet but Ma caught me red handed and took me down again… only after I had managed to disappear under a heap of insulation though!

To top the day off Ma held me as we looked out of the landing window. Sure enough the ginormous bin lorry was there and two guys sauntering past. The one looked up and waved at us.



Let me introduce myself. I am officially Bertie-Jeeves although generally Ma and Pa call me Bertie. I am short; short legs, short tail and look slightly podgy. I heard Ma say I look ugly. Below are some photos of me not looking quite so ugly but that’s because I’m sleeping.

They found me from the RSPCA in Birmingham. I’d been taken there after living homeless for a long time. My previous family had moved house and left me behind.

Although the RSPCA looked after me well I hated the closed in pen. As soon as I got to my new home I didn’t care about the home the first thing I HAD to do was get out of the house.

This was no simple task. There was a catflap, my own personal catflap that only opened for me… although I wasn’t supposed to know this yet. But I knew. The flap wouldn’t open and I was going to get it open. I popped the screw covers off when Ma and Pa weren’t looking. Needless to say when they discovered this they were not too impressed. I was not out to impress though. I was out to get out!

IMG_6246 I scrambled at the windows. I scrambled at the tv and the wallpaper by the living room door. I enjoyed doing that until Pa got a bright coloured thing that squirted water at me. His aim was poor but I wasn’t going to be target practice.

It’s been 6 months now. I still make a ticking noise when I sleep which is, apparently odd. I’ve settled in now that I’ve learnt I am not allowed to scratch the tv or the wallpaper. I love home. I love the outside. I love mice and I also love Ma and Pa. I’m not cute so there will be no cutsie photos of me… just tails of my daily, mundane musings…