So why not....

The Siamese, with its slanty face and thin body (not well muscled like me) has become a national symbol for Thailand. It's official recognition from the Government.

She is a nice colour, I admit. But her face is triangular without proper cheeks and her nose is sort of pointed. Unlike the symmetry of my nose in the slightly flat face.

So, Prime Minister Starmer, when are you going to recognise the British cat, a pedigree breed already popular with cat owners.

We are British already. Now we want to be officially recognised as true Brits.  

For once, Mr Starmer, do something that will make our humans cheer for you. 

But why is Keith still homeless? 

He's under two years old. He's handsome though small. He's playful. He uses the litter tray excellently. He's clever - he can open doors. And he's affectionate.

True, he does nip his human if he is ignored. And he hates all over cats and will attack them. So he needs a home without any other cats.

Today he is very, very bored and frustrated. He is waiting for adoption in a spare room. With nothing much to do.

He is taken out for half an hour's play time twice a day. He is warm and well fed. 

If you happen to know a sensible adult human (some of them definitely aren't) that lives in Oxfordshire, please let them know about Keith.

They can adopt him from www.sunshinecatrescue.org.uk  

But in winter.... 

Living under cars, trying to creep beneath garden sheds,  or miserably sheltering underneath cars... it's a tough world for the outside strays.

We cats come from the Middle East. We are designed to live in deserts, among pyramids, or at the edge of the Euphrates. In Europe it is cold and, worse still, wet. We need shelter, as well as food.

In Italy, some towns install little wooden huts for cats, along the pavement. There are cushions on top for fine weather and shelter below for wet days. In Istanbul, people build little cat houses on the steps outside their homes.

Not all of us cats want homes. Some of us prefer to live the outdoor life. There are many humans who feed stray cats. Thank you.

But what about shelters for street cats... think about it, humans.

The tree smelled of dog. DOG! 

Apparently some passing canine had lifted its leg on the tree, while the tree was placed outdoors on the pavement. My human couldn't smell it: but to me it was a very strong odour.

Dog-smelling trees frighten me. So I  cover up the enemy scent with my own scent. That's only fair.

So I did the only thing I could do, to stop myself feeling anxiety. And what was really painful was that my human did not understand.

Indeed, she became very upset. I couldn't explain to her. She shut me out of the room with the tree.

Life with humans has horribly unfair moments. This was one of them. 

Luckily this year, the tree smelled OK.  

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We've done it again. We cats have strolled into top paces. The Belgian prime minister has just adopted a special needs cat.

His name? Maximus Textoris Pulcher. That's Latin for "Maximus the beautiful weaver." A posh name for a posh cat living at the top of  Belgian society.

His ears look funny because he is a Scottish fold cat, a breed that has serious health problems. They have a genetic condition  called osteochondrodysplasia.

That means their joints are deformed and they are in chronic pain. Maximus is also FIV positive.

Here in the UK, we still breed them and they still suffer. But in Belgium, they have banned the breed. 

Oh, and by the way, the Belgian prime minister's name is Bart de Wever and he is not HIV positive!  So he has given his surname to Maximus.