Hello out there! It's me, Watson-cat again!

I've found my new favorite thing! The other day Sher-cat brought home another little baggy, like the one Lestrade gave him. He keeps these little baggies on a table where I can't reach them, but today I jumped up and grabbed one.

I don't know what it is, but I love it. I love it I love it I love it! The bag is sealed with tape and I don't want to open it because then Sher-cat will know I went through his stuff, but I can smell whatever it is through the bag and I love it.

I spent the longest time rolling over it and trying to get the scent all over me and it was bliss! It smelled like mint and green grass and pretty girl kitties and morning sunshine and all things wonderful! I wonder if Sher-cat would know if I just kept this one…

I'm back from the vet. I've learned another of life's lessons the hard way: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Sher-cat noticed I had swiped his bag, but he told me for helping him I could keep it. I thought that was really nice of him. Looking back on it now, the huge breach of character should have been a warning that something wasn't right.

I cut the bag open with my claw and dozens of wedge-shaped leaves fell out. I asked him what they were and he told me they were catnip leaves.

Catnip: that famed and mystical plant that was mentioned in reverent, hushed, tones amongst strays on the streets. Some cats said that it grew in the wild around a crystal clear stream filled with fat fish and that when cats died they visited that magical place only once before moving on to their next life. I've heard that cats were KILLED for catnip before.

And now here it was before me, the channel to the most extreme form of happiness in the world. A rare pleasure only afforded to the best of cats. I thought that I would never even have a chance to pass through a room with catnip in it, now there were a few leaves all to myself. For a brief moment I felt somewhat unworthy; then the overwhelming scent washed away all conscious thought.

Sher-cat sat on the top of the couch as I joyously bounced off of every wall, attacking everything I could reach. A piece of string billowed in the breeze that I made racing past it and I seized it with both paws laughing maniacally. I ended up pulling down some kind of tablecloth and most of the stuff on the table, but I didn't care! Something rolled across the floor and I ran after it, beating it with my paws like a solo soccer-match.

I had never felt so alive! I had never felt my heart beat so fast! I had never breathed so deeply! Every ounce of my body was completely intertwined with my soul and I knew then that I was a kitten at heart.

I heard everything: the earth-shattering sound of my breathing, traffic churning below the window, the landlady chatting to someone, Sher-cat muttering "Not the skull…"

I saw everything: everything was brightly colored and magical and visions swam before my eyes!

I felt nothing except almost more joy than I could stand. I never got tired or winded no matter how hard I ran, I never felt pain, even when I slammed my head into the walls or tripped and scraped my face against the floor. I was in a constant state of bliss, I was in euphoria!

And Sher-cat gazed on from above me, a quiet spectator to my own personal demolition derby (Dear readers; what's a derby? I'm not one-hundred percent sure. Love, Watsoncat)

As I began to sink down off of my high I also began to notice him again. His tail was flicking with amusement and I wondered if that was how he felt when he was thinking, when he was so wrapped up in his thoughts and his doings that he didn't seem to notice me until he was done. Was it just like being on catnip?

I lazily pawed at his tail as I crashed down from the catnip. It was a horrible blow, all at once I was groggy and sick and sluggish and in pain and I could barely move.

"Well, you've had a good romp." Sher-cat said, moving his tail out of my reach.

My tongue felt swollen and I fought to think through a growing haze. "Sher…I don't feel so good."

"I should think not. You really had a good run." He said chuckling. "I have no doubts you'll sleep well tonight."

"No… worse." I said as my breathing became labored and raspy. I couldn't think. I felt my body crash to the ground, just barely clinging to consciousness.

Suddenly I heard the door opening.

"Great Scott!" a human exclaimed. "We've been robbed!"

"Help..." I meowed pitifully, and then Sher-cat was by my side.

"You really don't look so well." He said. I felt like hitting him.

"The apartment is ruined." My human said. I remember feeling guilty because I had ruined the apartment, not robbers. I also recall wishing he'd notice me. I knew that I needed help, but I was scared that I wouldn't be able to get the help I needed in time.

The next thing I felt was the large, safe, warm hands of my human on my chest and faint anxious words passed between them, and then I couldn't hold on. It felt like I was suffocating and the whole world faded into black silence.

Well, I'm alright now. They rushed me to the vet and I was treated for a feline allergic reaction. Sher-cat and the weird human (Whose name I will try to learn!) worked together to figure out that I am allergic to catnip. It's apparently a really rare allergy among cats. Lucky me.

I have also learned to hate the vet. He stabbed me three times with a cold, silver needle and no one would tell me why. My human, who I thought was supposed to help me didn't even try to help; he just stood back and let the doctor work. I wish he'd have at least patted me or comforted me or something! I think I'm going to ignore him for a while.

I'm still having nervous spasms from when they took my temperature. It was so cold and weird! Then they picked me up and took me to a wall made of cages. I had been a stray before, and I had been caught by the animal police once, so it didn't take me long to realize they were throwing me into a kennel. They called it 'observation' but I knew it was a kennel.

They left me there all night. Alone. In a box. To say the least I was freaking out, but the other cats there were really nice. They assured me that the 'observation' was normal and they were just making sure that I didn't relapse and die. They told me that the needles were standard as was the thermometer and they really helped calm my fears.

Lots of cats were former-strays like me. They said they didn't like the restriction belonging to a human so they would run away, but most of them would end up coming back for food. I told them that sounded a little bit pathetic and hypocritical and they told me to shove a thermometer where thermometers apparently go.

One cat had been hit by a car; he was in the cage directly below me and he didn't think he was going to make it. I was too scared to go to sleep and he was in too much pain so we chatted for a while. He seemed like a nice old cat and I hope he's okay.

Sher-cat was somewhat apologetic when I returned. He didn't say much, but he kind of treaded carefully when he was around me, like he thought I'd be mad. It only lasted a few minutes until he realized I wasn't mad, and then he told me that he'd been experimenting on me.

He said he hadn't expected the allergy, but his scientific findings were fascinating. I didn't care. I was somewhat horrified and I didn't listen to his findings… I mean, would you?

I told him I was thinking of starting a blog like John (my human). He chuckled. Just chuckled.

Does that mean it's okay?

No cases lately and Sher-cat is starting to get anxious. I've learned something about him when he's anxious: He does weird things to alleviate the boredom.

He'll spend all day curled up on the couch with his eyes open; not sleeping, just lying there. It's creepy. At the moment he's lying there looking at me. Not saying anything just looking…What does he want?

"What do you want? You're wearing me out with your constant observation." I tell him.

"You have the most ingenious method of typing. It's quite hilarious." He said.

I give up.

There was another cat in the flat! ANOTHER CAT! Besides me and Sher-cat! I saw him! With my own two eyes! He was as gray as a ghost and he can OPEN DOORS just like I can!

Let me tell you the whole story: John (my human) was feeling bad because I'd been ignoring him since the whole vet fiasco and he'd had a rough day at work.

I had a nice day of sleeping. Sleeping is almost always nice. Anyway I was in a good mood, so when he came home he ate, got ready for bed and picked me up from off the couch where I'd been sleeping on the other human's (I swear I will learn his name some day!) robe-thingy that he wears when he doesn't feel like clothes.

"Now you're in trouble" he said holding me up to eye level.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"You shed too much; Sherlock is going to be so mad." (I REMEMBERED! It's Sherlock! :3)

"Did I soil it?"

"We'll have to wash it fast…or hide it?" He said picking it up with one hand and tucking me under his other arm. "I know where he'll never look."

He stored the robe in the refrigerator and walked up to his room with me in tow. He spent the next few minutes before bed petting me and chatting idly with himself. It was nice that he could unleash his problems on me, and I didn't mind so long as I was petted.

I guess I laid down in the crook of his arm and fell asleep. I don't remember sleeping, but I do remember waking up hungry at midnight with my tail wrapped securely and snugly around me.

At first I was disoriented, but a clattering in the room woke me all the way up. I jumped out of bed and scanned the room nervously, instinct taking over again.

At first I didn't see anything, but then there was movement out of the corner of my eye which made me look up.

I'm glad I did! There was a skinny gray cat clinging to the doorknob and when he saw that I saw him he dropped down and almost landed on me.

I overreacted and leapt under the bed and the cat took that time to jump up to the doorknob again; and here's what's crazy, he turned it! He even held the knob just like I do!

"We're being robbed! It's a cat burglar!" I shouted, caught up in the excitement. John rustled the sheets in his bed.

I heard Sher-cat grumbling in the next room and I shot down after the cat burglar yowling at the top of my lungs.

I caught up to the gray cat as he was trying to open the door out of the apartment. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins I tackled him and slammed him into the door.

"Watson, your stupid cat…" Sherlock began, but the noise from our cat fight was too loud to hear the rest.

He was screaming at me unintelligibly and also trying to bite my face at the same time while I was trying to avoid his teeth and shouting what was happening at the same time, like an announcer to a fight.

"He's trying to bite me; he missed! I tried to scratch him but he dodged it!"

He latched onto my ear with a lucky lunge and I cried out in pain. I could hear Sher-cat angrily attacking the door to the room he was in, shouting. "Hurry UP Sherlock! Come ON!" and I scratched gray-cat's tummy vigorously trying to get free.

He grunted in pain, but didn't let go of my ear. Instead he bit it harder and twisted his head, as though he were trying to rip it off. Burning pain bled over the side of my head as I screamed. The pain was excruciating and I thought I had lost my ear for a moment.

Finally the gray kitty let go and jumped away from me and I stood up to face him defensively. We circled each other slowly, waiting for any sign of weakness or attack. Wearily sizing each other up and rapidly plotting our next moves and trying to quickly think of some way to win the fight. I had been in a few territory scraps as a stray, but I really can't remember a cat as fierce as the gray kitty.

Gray-kitty stopped circling and I faced him preparing for a pounce or a lunge, but none came. Instead he tried to talk to me.

"Listen kid." He said in a horse whisper. "I came in here to steal that paper." He nodded towards a crumpled piece of paper that was on the ground at my feet.

"Someone asked me to steal it, but I don't really want it. The humans are coming. It's not worth a can of tuna for me to go back to the pound, so I'll cut you a deal; let me leave here and you can keep the stupid paper. I don't want it!" he seemed desperate.

John and Sherlock stepped into the room and suddenly our conversation was broken by beams of blinding light being thrown at us.

Sher-cat came out of nowhere and pinned gray-cat to the ground, growling ferociously.

"You've a lot of nerve breaking in here!" He said through gritted teeth.

The gray cat was having a major freak-out though. The humans terrified him. I noticed a long scar along the side of his body as he tried to back into a wall to escape the humans.

The humans, oblivious as ever, completely misread the situation.

"Get off of him." John said pushing Sher-cat away.

The gray cat was pushed against the wall out of sheer terror of humans. His ears were back and I could read the panic in his bulging eyes. He was too scared to even move and I saw that if John touched him he would flip out and attack him.

John must have seen it too, for his hand froze in the air above the cat. Sher-cat took the opportunity to interrogate the criminal.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"Call off your human! I came here to steal a paper, but I don't want it!"

"If you don't want it why did you come?"

"Someone hired me to steal it! He gave me a meal and promised me more!"

"Who?"

"Some black cat! I don't know! Please call off your human! I just want to leave!"

John instinctively stood up and opened the door and the gray cat was gone in a blur, down the stairs and scratching against the other door to get free.

"I wonder how he got in?" John said absentmindedly as he left to open the last door and free the cat. I heard the gray cat turning the knob and John's exclamation of surprise as he let himself out and finally got away from the humans he feared so terribly.

I had calmed down now that there were other people taking care of the situation and I finally noticed the blood trickling through my fur and down my shoulder. I also noticed the dull throbbing pain in my ear.

Sherlock picked me up by the scruff and dangled me a few inches from his nose scrutinizing me. I hate being picked up by the scruff. It doesn't hurt but it's an uncomfortable tightness around my neck.

"You shouldn't have let him go, that beast needs to be put down. He's feral. Probably with rabies." He said handing me back to John when he came in through the door.

"Aw, his ear!' He exclaimed turning me over in his hands.

"I bet they've missed you at the veterinarian's office." Sherlock said sarcastically walking back to his bedroom.

Sher-cat perched on the couch. His expression betraying deep thought. I was waiting for John to put me down but he never did. He put on a coat and decided to take me back to the vet to get my ear fixed.

"Sher! I need to talk to you! The paper..!" I exclaimed as I was carried out of the flat. I don't know if he heard me. He didn't seem to react.

So I went to the all-night vet (did you know they had one? I didn't!) and they drugged me up and sewed my ear back together. It was kind of hanging off and gross. I got a few more shots for rabies and stuff and before they started operating on me I got to say hello to some of the stray cats in the kennel… I mean 'observation'.

I asked them if they had ever seen the gray cat and apparently he's a notorious stray. Everyone knew him from the scar which he'd gotten from a knife-wielding human one night as he was scavenging for food. I'd heard horror stories before about humans doing bad things to cats, but this was the first time I had actually seen the result of it. It frightened me to know there were people like that out there.

Sher-cat made fun of me for the way I acted when I got home early that morning. Apparently I couldn't walk straight and I was saying some funny things. He said I acted drunk, but I need to ask him what that is before I can take insult.

I felt bad for making John miss sleep. One of the things he told me about was how he kept falling asleep at work, and I didn't want to make that worse. I'll apologize when he gets back.

Sher-cat and I have scrutinized the piece of paper. I can't make heads or tails of it at all. Clearly I can read it, but it has a lot of big words and references to places I don't know. There is one name on the paper, but that's pretty much it.

"I can't believe someone made him face his worst fears for this paper!" I exclaimed. "It doesn't seem all that important!"

"You'd be surprised. Crime has no bounds for depravity." Sher-cat said reading the paper for the fourth time.

"Do you know who Irene Adler is?" I asked.

"Maybe, but I cannot fathom why it would interest a cat."

Now he's bored again. I was trying to sleep on the couch and he was bothering my tail. Apparently I flick it when I sleep. I also wag it when I'm mad.

I drew the line when he started to fluff it.

"Stop that!" I said pulling my long tail in around me and started to smooth it down.

"Your fur is so long. I'll wager I could concentrate the keratin in it in some kind of formula."

"You do NOT have my permission to use my fur!" I said stamping my paw. "Don't touch my tail, it's weird!"

"How so?" he asked innocently.

I give up.

Catlock belongs to the indomitable, yet easily amused TheCaptainsideways.

Leave Watsoncat a message on his blog at He loves questions!