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August 6, 2003At Sea, East of the Rock Of Gibraltar
The events of the last week or so have me a little bemused. Frank and Waffles have turned what was a pirate cat voyage into the luv boat. The fat wench laughs when I tell her this and tells me to stop complaining, as I have to expect to encounter the romance of the High Cees. Why can't those two get a hotel room? I complained to Paw Rob and asked him to turn the power washer on them, but he said they weren't the blond wench and gem, and not hurting anyone. I told him that they were a bad example for gem and the blond wench, and he replied that gem and the blond wench were their own bad example.
The snacks have been holding out, as we decided to ration them in order to give them time to breed. The fat wench would rather we eat them all and get rid of them. She has no sense of conservation. She is becoming used to cooking fish and getting better at it. She wears a piece of wood on her nose that she calls a clothespin that she thinks helps keep the smell out. I don't know why, fish smell good.
There are a lot of dolfins swimming around the ship. They like to swim backwards on their tails chattering and laughing at us. Adam says we can't catch them. We don't understand, but he's the first mate and head hoomin, so we have to listen to him. We haven't told him our plans for the wales, as we don't want him to tell us we can't catch them either. Those wales are in for a big surprise though.
We've had lots of marlin, tuna, ruffy, and even sea bass. Sea bass are hard to catch, but very good eating. We even caught a fish with a double paw of long snakey things sticking out of it. It got off the hook and slithered all over the ship with all of us felines in pursuit. It finally got over the side and into the ocean. Paw Rob and Adam had to power wash some black nasty stuff the fish peed off the deck. All of us felines stayed in the rigging until the deck was washed and dried.
Tonight we're having something called grooper. It smells really good, though the fat wench and the blond wench refuse to eat it. They're having pizza. Some hoomins don't know what good food is. Fortunately, the weather is good as most of us like to sleep on the top of the cabin and on the fore deck. The smell of the sea breeze is very good and makes us all hungry. We haven't had to get into our store of spare food supplies very often, which is a good thing.
The litter boxes are holding out, though the blond wench and gem complain about cleaning them every day. They gripe a lot, when they aren't making sucking faces at each other. Hoomins are so silly, taking a simple thing and making a big deal out of it. I wonder how they managed to become so many, as they not only have their kits one at a time, but have to take and make all sorts of rituals about it. Cats are not only more straight forward, but also more romantic. We even sing to our beloveds. Writing about it makes me miss Chloe all the more. I tell myself that it won't be long now, but it seems like forever before we get to Australia.
We will be in Rome Itly in a day or so, then leave to go around the bottom of Afrika on Monday. We're all having a grand time here and have been entertaining ourselves with practicing in case we have a d*g invasion, along with our usual pursuits of eating and sleeping. I'll write another update after we visit Itly.
Paws and fishes,
Cap'n Pine Cone esq.Copyright © Pam Shirk
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