Minou the Ragdoll kitty is Minou my friend’s namesake. Yes, it’s confusing when someone names herself after her pet.

Anyway, today’s post is about Minou the kitty.

She recently scratched herself bloody at her neck and had to wear a cone to prevent herself from continuously scratching at the wound.

She really hated it and would bite through it whenever no one was looking. I’m not quite sure how she did it but according to Minou (the person), she managed to destroy, like, two cones.

So they bought her booties, instead.

Pet booties come in fours, obviously, but pictured here are only three because Minou managed to shake one off and hide it so that no one could find it.

(She was only made to wear one, on the paw that wouldn’t stop scratching the wound.)

The booties are so cute, so here are more pictures of them!

Minou grumbles while Minou puts a bootie on her:

Minou is resigned to her fate:

She hates the booties and would sulk and mew pitifully and walk funny when she’s wearing one.

She keeps trying to shake it off!

She’d walk awkwardly for a minute and then sit down to sulk, propping the bootied paw awkwardly against the floor.

(Behind her are cartons for her clawing pleasure.)

She tries a few things. Besides sitting and sulking, she also tries gazing at you pitifully to tell you that she doesn’t like wearing a bootie.

But we only smile at her indulgently and tell her how cute she looks.

So she walks off to sulk some more.

We leave her alone and go play our game.

An hour later, we check on her and her bootie is gone! Again!

That’s the second lost bootie. She only has two left, last I was there.

I think she’s mighty pleased with herself!

Funny how stray cats are often friendlier than home cats (especially when you’re eating at coffee shops).

We recently came across a most friendly, manja, attention-seeking stray cat ever.

Outside Leisure Park Kallang, a cat walked past the Goonfather and immediately rolled over on its back, baring its belly.

The Goonfather stopped and stared. When the cat realised that it wasn’t going to get a belly rub, it got up, walked nearer him, then flopped over again.

This happened once more and I decided to get my camera out.

Here’s the video of what happened next. Very cute, must watch!

I was planning to write about this but Nanny Wen just wrote such a great post about it that I’ve decided to link it.

The gist of it is that her dog Scruffy went missing.

After four worrying days of searching, both physically and through social media, Scruffy was finally found. And Twitter was the primary tool that helped.

Read the full story here.

I take a personal interest in this because Scruffy used to be the Goonfather’s dog. He then became my dog by default when I got together with the Goonfather.

A few years back, we moved to a landed home near Nanny Wen and she would come hang out with us a lot. She would bring him home and take care of him during the times we were away. Or just for fun.

That was how she got her nick, Nanny Wen, by the way.

We realised that Scruffy was a lot happier with her. What happened was that Scruffy was miserable in our new home. We had a new parental rule dictating that he had to stay outside the house, in the garden, at all times.

Being an attention-seeking dog, he needs to be around people 24/7. Every night, from our bedroom, the Goonfather and I could hear Scruffy howling mournfully and my heart would break.

So we decided to let Scruffy stay with Nanny Wen for good. Her family also loved Scruffy, so it was a great solution. And since we lived so nearby, we could see him any time we wanted.

And then we moved house again but Scruffy stayed, so he officially became Nanny Wen’s dog and they lived happily ever after!

I’m so glad he’s found.

There’s a baby lizard living in my bathroom.

For the past few weeks, sometimes when I open the bathroom door and walk in, I will see it get startled and then scurry behind the toilet bowl where it is hidden from sight.

I always wonder what it had been doing before I barged in on it. But it never remains in plain sight long enough for me to observe its actions.

I have always liked lizards, especially baby ones, because I think they look cute with their tiny beady eyes and little webbed feet.

But I’ve never come across the same lizard more than a few times, until this one.

I’m starting to feel some affection for this baby lizard! Maybe I will give it a name!

So cute and little, it’s been showing itself regularly for weeks. It has even grown a little in size since I first saw it.

I wonder where its parents are. Do lizards have family units?

I wonder if my baby lizard is helping me keep my bathroom bug free. How cool is that?

And, best of all, the Goonfather hates lizards, so I am having a great time annoying him about it.

One day, I walked into the bathroom and I said very cheerfully, “Hello there!”

The Goonfather heard me and he said, “You’re shen jing bing (mental case) talking to a disgusting lizard!!”

I’m going to be sad if I stop seeing it one day. =(

I consider myself quite lucky to have found the mould before I took the first bite out of my Ego Swiss Roll.

The mould was in the middle of the roll. I could have just pulled a bit of the roll out of the little foil packet and nibbled at the top first.

(And then probably eaten the whole lot without discovering the mould because I was working at my computer, therefore distracted.)

I don’t remember what made me do it, but I ripped open the packaging to get at the swiss roll, and that was when I saw it.

I even did a double take because I didn’t expect to see mould on my breakfast.

I thought I had bought an expired product. My friends and I went to Jusco in Johor Bahru last night and bought a whole load of snacks.

So I checked the box. Nope, not expired. There’s still a good year of shelf life left.

I opened two more individually wrapped packets to check. They were good and mould-free.

I considered eating them, but then my stomach is now maybe temporarily — maybe permanently — turned off swiss rolls. So I think I will just chuck the whole box in the trash.

Okay, maybe not permanently. I will still eat sugar rolls from Polar (yum) but I don’t think I will be touching Ego products anymore.

Maybe I should have bought some Stereo, instead.

The guys made a din at the supermarket last night, clamorously discussing how outdated the cookies were, since we’re already into 7.1 audio technology now.

Actually, it was mostly Unker Kell, who is the King of Corn of Club Morte. And some say in JB, as well.

But I didn’t get any because I was spoilt for choice.

I bought a lot of milk, though. There is this brand of milk called Goodday, found only in Malaysia, which I love. It’s a lame name for a brand but the milk is so creamy and sweet (in a milky way).

We didn’t go to JB for grocery shopping, specifically. We went there for Nando’s Chicken.

I suppose it’s quite silly to spend three hours travelling (including the traffic jam at the checkpoints but not including the return trip) just to eat a stupid chicken meal.

But we love the chicken liver at Nando’s so it’s worth a trip once in a while.

The Goonfather’s car battery died on our way back, at the petrol station.

We tried to jumpstart Makkuro using Amelie (Unker Kell’s car) but Makkuro almost killed her in the process. Amelie’s battery wasn’t big enough for greedy Makkuro.

Fortunately, the Shell station manager came out to help. He said he’d get a bigger battery sent to the station.

We were all shocked when a highway police truck turned up and two policemen jumped out and started a Makkuro Resuscitation Operation.

It was pretty cool, actually.

While waiting for Makkuro’s saviour, we met a cute stray kitty. We were sitting around on the curb outside the petrol station when it strolled towards us purposefully. (Thanks to Unker Kell meowing at it.)

It was so tame and attention-seeking!

Heheh.

I passed my camera to Morte and then tried to get the cat to pose for pictures with me, but it started to lie down and wanted me to stroke it or something.

So I tickled behind its ears for a bit and it totally rolled over on its back and exposed its belly to me, like a dog wanting a tummy rub.

Morte said, “Okay, done!” and passed the camera back at me.

I checked the photos and yelled at him, “What done lah! Cannot even tell that it’s a cat! I just see a random white blob!”

The guys in Club Morte are such dongheads.

We tried again later when the cat decided to stop lying down.

But it was facing the wrong way, so I tried to get it to turn its head.

I scratched around its head, yoohoo-ed it, cajoled it with sweet nothings.

But it refused to turn around and look at the camera.

And then I tried scratching under its chin and everyone went “awwwww” as the cat went into a happy swoon.

Well, I guess that’s a wrap!