Mog

That sailing cat is called Mog.

I met him yesterday. I think he still doesn't know I was on his yacht. I was sneaked on board in my backpack and sat in it on F's knee while the humans talked and talked and talked. From there I watched Mog patrolling the wheelhouse roof and wandering about on the aft deck. I guess it never occured to him that an intruder could get over his passarelle unnoticed.

Mog is big like me; an English cat, one that just walked into the home of his humans one day. They said he looked like a refugee from a warzone, starved and wounded.  He doesn't look like that now. 

He had competition in those days: Digby. Digby used to have a photo on the sidebar of my blog years ago.  Digby died recently and got a ceremonial burial at sea off Malta. His humans said that just as they had finished their tributes to Digby, fireworks rose up in red and gold above the skyline of Malta; a fitting, if somewhat coincidental, celebration of a faithful family member's life. 

I wonder if there will be fireworks at my send-off.

All the humans were so busy talking that mine forgot to take photos. So there is no record of The Tigger on a sailing yacht. 

We stayed in a nice apartment up by that Palamidi Castle thing we visited last time we were at Nafplio. After checking in, I did 'hotel inspector' Tigger, gave it my approval, and tested the white bed linen while the humans all went out to eat.

On arrival back my humans plugged in some BugVap thing and went to bed. I had to wake them both a couple of hours later to point out that they were poisoning themselves (and me). F kept pushing me off but I was persistent. If she went back to sleep they might never wake up! I even sat on the bedside table to explain "THAT THING".  She's maddeningly slow on the uptake but she eventually cottoned on and plodded round and unplugged it. 20 minutes or so later the air had cleared to my satisfaction and I curled up and let everyone go back to sleep. And she had woken up wondering why her lungs burned and she was as dry as an Arab's sandal....doh!

Patio check in the morning....oh no a bouncing K9. Why are they always so cheerful in the mornings? Tail wagging, all that enthusiasm...

We came back after an extended brunch all together on the boat because this evening our landlord and one of our neighbours are negotiating a relet of our apartment after we go. We only met the neighbour recently so it is a great good fortune that F had invited her in for a wine one evening.

I have just overheard F telling them that she will invite the neighbours she knows for wine next Saturday to introduce them all to each other, and to Tachoula who will move in here after us. My condo had better still be here....

women and wine.... 

......perhaps Mr B and I can go somewhere else.

Or just hide.....🙄