We once took a photo of the whole Tribe together on the bed - it was in the days when They Were Nine, and gone are Mollie, Zool, Shrimp and Drumknott, and Esk and Ptep have moved to Norwich.

I doubt we'll ever get the current Tribe to sit together, but they were all in the study together yesterday, waiting for us to turn off the rain, so here's a photo montage of them all.

Clearly, he'd been in either the fish pond or the stream, as he had muddy bits, and smelled frankly rather unpleasant. He's not one to be dried with a towel, either, and so remained rather spiky and fragrant until he dried off naturally.

He was closely followed by Mustrum who was in an identical state, so we assume they'd had one of their periodic full and frank exchanges of views, and chased each other through the stream. Mussy likes to be towelled, so we dealt with him a little more easily.

Both of the miscreants slept all day - Mustrum on the shelf by Pete's desk, and Iggy under my dressing gown on the bed. I'm pleased to report that they are now both dry and seem none the worse for their adventure.

we have no explanation for this, except we wonder are they perhaps mimicing the Northern Ireland peace agreement? In which case - a scary thought, I know - which of them is Paisley, and which one Adams?

if they are in the same room, there is often hissing and grumbling, and they have had some fights which have actually frightened us - two alpha male Bengals in one house is clearly not a good idea. It seems to vary which one of them is in charge at any given moment, probably just so the Blobs are confused (our natural state).

this lunchtime, I'd put some waffer thin turkey in bowls (this is one of their favourite things, and usually brings forth a herd of maurauding elephants cats within a trice). Iggy was scoffing out of one bowl, and Mussie arrived; not a problem, as I had a second bowl prepared. But just for a moment, they shared a bowl, which was a bit nervewracking.

wind on an hour or so, and Mustrum is in what we call the "nest" - a furry rug on some shelves in the study, next to the comms stack and above a monitor (and thus warm and snuggly). Iggy arrived, and very carefully insinuated himself on to the shelf, quite clearly pretending that Mustrum simply *wasn't there*. Mustrum opened his blue eyes, looked a bit baffled, watched cautiously and let him get on with it.

they're now both asleep, and while I wouldn't say they were curled up together, bits of them are touching.

it's all very odd indeed.

now, much as I love Mussie, he's one of the most idle cats I've met, and I don't think we've ever seen him catch anything before. Pete took the rodent away, and Mustrum didn't seem bovvered at all. However, I'd rather that he didn't make a habit of it ...

we frequently call him Ratboy! now - it suits him, in a curious sort of way.

now, Iggy has never been one for toys, really, but the original crackly frog seemed to be the one he would pull out and test extensively on behalf of the Tribe, in his capacity as head cat. He used to give it a thorough seeing to going over, but in recent times, it has become a bit battered -- full of toothmarks, and no longer crackly. And certainly no trace of catnip.

so we purchased this new one, and bore it home with glee. We unpacked the bag, stripped it from its packaging, and crackled it at Iggy, who seemed extremely pleased to see it. Unfortunately, Liessa (who is absolutely hooked on catnip) grabbed it before he could, and gave it a thorough inspection. And then Mustrum got it, slobbered over it, disembowelled it ...

so poor old Iggy still hasn't had a play with his crackly frog.

we're not sure who the guilty party is, but the finger of suspicion is pointing at Molly, who looks like a chocolate box cat, but behaves completely differently.

we brought him in, fussed him rather less than he wanted (there is no such thing as enough), fed him and, within ten minutes, the bastard creature has gone out again...