I wish I could talk cat. I would say...

[TastesLikePanda]

Darling Matthew - just because I am walking into the kitchen, do not assume you are going to get fed again. I go in there for lots of reasons!

Dearest Jeffrey - I love you a lot but please do not walk on mummys brand new laptop with wet and muddy paws.

Love these...

Toby. If you stand on your hind paws, and push the dining room door with your front paws, it will open. Poppy can do it, and Pusscat and Ritchie before you could do it. You do not have to scramble on top of the filing cabinet then jump down into the room. You know things might fall on you when you do this.

Misty, can you explain why you love to chew on plactic things like crisp packet etc, it gets quite noisy

I know at the moment you have a lampshade on and you are feeling sorry for yourself but it is there to stop you licking your icky paw and we are bathing it to help it get better

loving reading these!

If you can open a closed door - can you please learn how to shut an open one

Dear Rimmel You need a translator I know in cat waving your paw means fuck off and die please leave me alone, but in dog it means please play with me. I also know that in cat lying on your side wagging you tail in cat means what part of fuck off and die did you not understand I do not want to play with you, in dog it means please, please play with me. However, the dog does not understand you. You can not blame it for everything.
Dear Terry You can interact with humans at times other than 4am.
For anyone really wanting to know what cats think look at cat v printer the translation on you tube - sorry can't do link.

I don't mind you lying on your back and sucking my thumb. It's quite endearing really. However, it is less endearing if you wave your willy at me while you are doing it.

Please learn to jump. It is not dignified to see a cat climbing up the duvet to get onto the bed. And don't grab hold of my leg as you fall off the bed. It is not a nice way to be woken up.

Pyjama trousers can't hurt you. You don't need to growl at them or attack them with your teeth and claws. The person inside them is the same one who feeds you, and whose lap you sit on and purr. She is not going to attack you either.

To all cats everywhere:

That mad half hour you occasionally have when you tear round the house like complete mentallists, what's that all about?

To Twiddle:

Chasing your tail. You like doing this in the (empty) bath. Why the bath, for crying out loud? You always fall over, wouldn't it be better if you did it on carpet instead?

Also, how do you manage to get such huge things (full-grown rabbits, hen pheasants) in through the catflap? Please enlighten me.

Boris love, when you get hungry in the middle of the night please can you check whether there's food in your bowl (there always is!) before swiping stuff off the bedside table to wake me so I can feed you?

Oh - and I know you pretend that, at the grand old age of nearly 17, you can only manage the stairs by staggering slowly on some imaginary feline crutch but I SAW you tuther day. Belting upstairs like 6 month old kitten when you thought I wasn't looking... I was so pleased .

No matter how many paws you have in the litter tray, it doesn't count unless your bum is in the right place.

hahahahaha Stinky

Miffy - you do not need to deplete the entire local population of [insert any small animal here]. You are fed well enough at home, I shut you in at night for this very reason.

You do not need to somehow turn into Houdini every time I buy and put a new collar on you, complete with bell to try stopping you killing things. I have now admitted defeat.

My feet are not there for your amusement only to be attacked the second I get into bed and at random intervals through the night.

The dog is smaller than you, he isn't even a proper dog, more a powderpuff on legs, stop hiding upstairs and come back in the living room, I miss you sometimes

Dear Shitty Kitty and Fi-Fi, I realise that you are at opposite ends of life, and that you will always hate each other and need a litter tray each in the different parts of the house you occupy. What I don't understand is why you don't always use them. I do not like finding puddles of wee under the freezer or at the side of the bath.

PS - Why is the guinea pig still alive? And stop leaving your fleas in my bed.

Lola and Fatcat! Rats are friends not food. At least the ones in the cage are. Please stop staring at them, you are giving them a complex and we can't afford the therapy.

Dear Bella

It is extraordianrly endearing that you wake me up with a gentle nudge to my cheek and a lick on my nose, and sometimes even a very gentle nibble. But, at 5.30 am? Every day?

And your human food treats. Is there any real need to turn your delicate velveteen nose up at anything and everything until it is cut up to the exact size specifications you demand, and served at the correct temperature?

Why do you wait till I'm in bed before trying fruitlessly ( beacuse I've foiled you on this at least) to open all my bedroom cupboard doors?

Why have you appropriated the best and comfiest dog bed for yourself?

Lastly. The cat flap. We both know you are a clever cat and can easily operate it yourself. But no. You prefer it to be propped open - or better still, held open by a human volunteer - day and night. Why?

I am your slave. I know this. But please. There's only enough humiliation a human can stand.

I think.

The Food Lady.

PS I love you loads though. Please forgive me.

What the hell are you looking at? Is the radiator/corner of the room/wall really that interesting or do you see something I don't

Darling cats...
Which one of you bastards animals threw up in my bed?
Is it the same bastard cat that threw up on the bathmat instead of the eleventy billion wipe clean surfaces in the bathroom?

is having a bad night

Dear cats

"This evening I am in a bad mood. I've had a shit day.

Look at my face.

It's a catbum face.

Do you know what that means?"

"OK

Just this once you're in charge....." :)

and so it goes on.........

Dear Noodle,

Sorry about the name, I was feeling frivolous.

Anyway. Every can in the house does not contain tuna. Please stop clawing my leg and incessantly yowling every time you hear the can opener. Sometimes, it's just beans!

And, dear one, I know you mean well, and I admire your devotion to your task of de-rodenting our entire village, but I can live without the mouse-being-tortured-to-death soundtrack to the evening's tv.

Cheers!