My Life, by Oscar

Mommy?
Yes, Oscar?
Daisy the Curly Cat has left a comment on my blog.
That is great Oscar.
Mommy?
Yes, Oscar?
What shall I write now about?
*Sigh*
Mommy?
Oscar, why don't you tell people a bit about who you are, were you live and why you started to bother me about having an own blog. Then we can show people that come to visit you here that post and call it your “About Oscar the Expat Cat” page. OK?
OK, Mommy, great idea!

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My Life, by Oscar, the Exp(a)/(er)t Blogging Cat

Hi, my name is Oscar and I am a 12year old, neutered, European Shorthair Cat.

Yikes, that sounds boring. See the photo up there, in the header? That's me, your Oscar friend ;-) I was born, eh, a few years ago and used to live in a great house with a huge garden in England, near Buckingham, to be precise. I used to live there with my first humans and another cat called Remy, like Remy Martin ;-)
Remy was the boss and I was not, at least the first years, but then Remy got older and I became the boss, and BOY! Did I boss around. Not only Remy, also the humans, I was THE boss in the house! Great, I really enjoyed it, --- for a while. I would bully Remy away from her food, and from her favourite sleeping places, and if she didn't move quick enough, I would bite a piece of fur out of her, skin and blood included!
Also the humans, there were three now, two big and a small one, I tried to boss around. I was the mega boss and bit and clawed everybody that came in my way. That was great fun, in the beginning. But then I noticed that people didn't like me anymore, and that I didn't get so many treats and chin scratchies anymore. And I started to life outside, I was out the whole day, and half the night, going for walkies. INDEPENDENT walkies, I didn't need nobody no more! Sometimes, when I came back to the house, I would find visitors there and if they tried to caress me, I would bite and claw them until the blood flow, really!
One visitor was never afraid of me, she would pick me up and call me a cat with character! I still bit and clawed her. And she would bit and claw me back! Actually she didn't bit or clawed me, but she would take me by the scruff of my neck and shake me. And I got a slap on the bum also! And she would set me on the floor and ignore me for the rest of her visit. I was sooo furious, I tried to attack again, but boy that woman was fast! But somehow, after a few visits, I started to respect her and stayed longer and longer on her lap. I often heard her say: “If I wouldn't be allergic to cats, I would take Oscar for a while and teach him how a good cat behaves.”
Meanwhile my first humans got really, really fed up with me.I mean, looking back, I can understand them, or do you really fancy having a cat glued to your foot and trying to rip your toes of when you have a lay in on a sunny Sunday morning? So things, really got serious at my first home. And then I started to hear words like RSPCA and re-homing and finding a place for Oscar. And I got frightened and wild, until one afternoon the male human put me in the cat carrier and drove away with me, taking a road we had never driven before...

... to be continued, tomorrow, promised