Meet Alf Capone – one of my Craft Room companions.

Mr. A in the grass

About three years ago Mr. Cobs and I were talked into having a kitten by our (grown up and married)  daughter.  She knew someone who was desperately trying to find homes for kittens and we agreed that we’d have one.

We chose the most adorable little black and white bit of fun and mischief, got her home, and within about three hours we knew we’d made a mistake.  We shouldn’t have just had one kitten.  We should have had two.  She needed a little playmate.  We were fine, but we weren’t kittens.  She’d come from a big ‘brood’ of kittens and we felt so mean taking her away from them all.  It was decided.  We contacted the lady and asked if we could have another kitten.

So back we went the next day to pick up the tiniest little black boy kitten;  huge big blue eyes which melted my heart and the tiniest little white diamond on his chest.  Ohhh, he was SO adorable that there should be a law against being that cute.

Mr. A as a baby

We got him into the house and his little girl sister instantly jumped on him and battered him with play.  Mr Cobs and I both agreed that we reckoned the young lady was going to be the boss out of the two of them.

We weren’t ‘new’ pet owners.  We already had two dogs, and one very elderly cat (whose now 20 years old).  So looking after little rascals wasn’t in the least bit of a surprise.  We knew what we were letting ourselves in for.

But …. we didn’t quite reckon on Alf.  OrAlf Capone;  to give him the full, respectful name he requires.

(I call him ‘Alfie Pops’  – but don’t let him know I told you because I fear that he will tell me I’m dead to him if anyone else knows about this affectionate monica I’ve bestowed upon his head).  :o)

Photograph taken by my lovely neighbour, who's way better at capturing a photograph of this almost all black chap than I am.
Photograph taken by my lovely neighbour, who’s way better at capturing a photograph of this almost all black chap than I am.

 Now I’d like to think that Alf Capone Esquire is more James Bond  (cue Live and Let Die music in the background) – because he is so sleek.  So dashing.  So, SO handsome, and he truly looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo.  The white diamond on his chest simply looks like a pure white shirt, beneath his black tuxedo jacket.  However, I’ve never seen a Bond film where James attempts to assassinate his sister whenever he’s ready for dinner and none is being served at the exact time he requires it.  (more about this distinguishing character  ‘trait’ in a moment)

I’m not saying that any mafioso would assassinate his sister – however … we are dealing with the Cat Mafia here and so I think the rules are very different.

I absolutely love this fascinating creature to the moon and back (plus tax) and he tickles the heck out of me with some of the things he does, and has done, in the time since we’ve had him.

I’m rather ashamed to tell you this but  well,  …  Mr. Alf is a kleptomaniac.  He’s stolen things  from other people’s houses;  cat toys, food – corn on the cob, a fried egg,  and even bread rolls which, by the look of the contents, came from someone’s barbecue.  He’s delivered looong lengths of silicon sealant at my feet which he’s obviously freshly pulled out from goodness knows where;  a sock;  a tiny rubber bouncy ball,  and … oh,  an assortment of other weird and odd stolen things.    Along with the usual cat ‘gifts’ of birds (both alive and those he’s personally ‘delivered’ to the Rainbow Bridge) and mice (those are more often than not alive and running at speed when he drops them, with me chasing after them, squealing: “eek, eeeeeek,  EEEEEK!” as I try to catch the darn things but stop him from catching them again – sigh).

But his most favourite thing to do is to accompany me to the craft room, where he sleeps either under one of my desks, on a big, soft red with white spots comfy cushion, which my (now passed on) eldest dog used to sleep on, or he will curl up on one of the chairs pushed under the table at the back of the craft room, and sleep there for as long as I’m crafting.

If I haven’t gone to my crafty hidey hole when he feels I should have, he will come into the living room where I’m sat and, standing on his two back paws, he’ll put his front paws on my knees and tap me gently, over and over, until I look at him, and I can clearly see the ‘nag nag nag’ in his eyes, asking me to “C’mon….  get a move on, I’m waiting!”  LOL.

However …. in the house, when he gets tired, …. aw, that’s when he becomes a baby again.  He loves the blankets we have for our dog (she likes to clamber under the blankets and put herself to bed).  Mr. Alf loves these blankets too,  so much so, that they’ve become his version of a childs ‘blanky’.  He HAS to have a few minutes with the blanky before he’ll go to bed.

You see …. he likes to suck on the fluffy side of them.  Yes – you read that correctly.

We’ve tried to stop him – to no avail.  We’re aware how bad it is and I won’t bother to tell you how worried I am that he might be taking bits of fluff into his system.  (I have checked these blankets and haven’t found any bare patches, or parts where it looks like bits are missing).

Alf Capone 3

The photo above shows you how he drapes himself over the edge of the dogs wicker bed, and once he’s got the blanket in just the right place, he begins to pad, pad, pad it, – just like he would have done to his mummy’s tummy when he was a kitten and wanted to feed – and then he’ll begin to suck it.  Audibly.  Noisy little slurpy, sucking noises.  I kid ye not dear reader.  This is really embarrassing when we have visitors and he does it, because it’s quite loud. 

Alf Capone 4

Once he’s had his blanky time, he then gets himself into position to sleep …. by making sure that he drapes himself half on the bed, and half off.  (see the above photograph).   Doesn’t matter which of the numerous beds we have dotted about our little cottage, – he has a choice of:-  two wicker beds with comfy cushions; a large, rigid plastic bed with a big squishy cushion inside; a firmly padded tartan with matching cushion cat bed, or two lovely, roses printed Cath Kidston pet beds – he makes sure that he drapes himself in such a way that at the very least one whole leg is draped outside the bed.  We have no idea why he has to sleep this way, but I’m figuring that it must be a Cat Mafia thing.  One foot always ready to pounce while the other three are sleeping. 

However  … when hungry, that’s when this adorable little monster becomes the naughty little devil and gets a telling off.  If we take just a nano second too long in dishing up his hearts desire, he will turn his annoyance at being made to wait, into a reason for his killer instinct to show up and he will attempt to kill his sister, so as to get us into action pronto.

He chases her around our cottage: – up the hallway at breakneck speed and back down again; over the high-backed chair in the living room (with claws out, which makes it sound like he’s ripping the fabric), over the sofa, both the back and the seat parts, into and around the conservatory, up the 5 feet tall cat scratching post/bed/climbing frame combination, and,  eventually , if the door’s left open,  he’ll harem scarem through the bedroom, at a gazillion miles an hour – which he KNOWS he’s not allowed to do – over the bed, onto the windowsill – disturbing the curtains and making the lovely little yacht I have on the sill there rock back and forth.  If by chance he manages to actually catch his sister, he’ll make her squeal by grabbing her by the scruff of her neck – which gets him a real old telling off, – which in turn makes him sulk on the sofa until he finally gets what he wants …. dinner, in his favourite dish.  (Please God don’t anyone give him the wrong dish!)

He can be a troublesome bug to our dog too.  He major time loves our dog (‘Maybees’ – say it sort of singy songy and you’ll see how it sounds.  lol) sooooo much, that he wants to love her and love her and love her.  He rubs his chubby little cheeks around her face, scent marking her and making her ‘his’.  He cleans her ears for her with his raspy tongue, which tickles her and makes her shake her head so violently that I think it’s going to fly off one day.  He clambers onto her bed and snuggles up to her – which drives her nuts and she pleads with me to get him off.  Ohhh he loves Maybees soooo much that it’s pitiful to watch.  Maybees does love him too.  But she just wishes that he’d leave her alone to snore when she’s asleep and not climb all over her, trying to wake her up.

But he’s adorable.  For all his funny things, annoying things, rascal ways … we all love him to pieces.  My Daughter and Son-in-Law have both said that they’d have him in a heartbeat.  He’s just brilliant.

And … when he finally finds a spot and settles down ….  he’s just the little boy he always was when we first brought him home.

Alf Capone 2

He’s just my Alfie Pops.  Soft, with fur like you’ve never felt before.  Thick, deep and luxurious.  Sweet natured (really – most of the time).  A little baby who loves ice cream,  drinking chocolate (I dip my finger into it and he licks it off my finger) and scrambled egg.  His favourite treats are cheesy puffed cat crunchies,  which I keep in a little glass jar and shake them when it’s time to come home and stop playing outside in the woods.  He’s a beautiful, massively heavy, big (much much bigger than he looks in these photographs) gorgeous, sweet thing and I love him to pieces.  And no, dearest daughter, if you’re reading, I’m not going to give him to you … but I’ll share him with you when you visit.

Before signing off ….  I know this isn’t one of my usual crafty posts and I know I’ve been Missing In Action for a couple of weeks (or so), and my blogs been very quiet.  I had to have some surgery.  I found some lumps about four weeks or so ago and the surgeon said that rather than simply take a little biopsy and wait to see what turned up, he felt it would be more prudent to remove all the lumps and, hopefully, all the surrounding cells, and then get a biopsy done on all that tissue.  He doesn’t think there’s anything to be worried about but I won’t get any results quite yet.   I’m not worrying until there’s something to worry about, because that’s just a waste of days and the older I get, the faster the days seem to go, so I’m not about to waste even one day worrying when I’ve got so much crafting to do!

Normal service will be resumed ASAP, as I get back to my crafty stuff.  However …  I will continue to introduce you to the fur babies I have here, who accompany me to my craft room, so that you paint a picture of who’s under the desk with me as I craft.  :o)

Thank you so much for coming to have a read.  I love that you visit to share a few minutes with me.  Thank you. 

Have a wonderful, happy, blessed day!

Cobs siggy sml

… and Alf Capone, of course!




Author: The Art of Cobwebs - aka:- thecobweboriumemporium

Hello. I'm 'Cobwebs'. I live in a wee little cottage in the South of England, aptly called Cobweb Cottage. This little dwelling really is a cobweb factory. Not inside (well, occasionally) - but outside - flipping heck! This information should give you a clue as to why my blog is called The Art of Cobwebs aka: The Cobweborium Emporium. I've been arty and crafty from a very young age, and although my crafts have sometimes turned a corner and taken me in another direction, I've always crafted in some way, shape or form. One day, in the blink of an eye, life changed somewhat for me and the consequences were many. I had to find a new way of being 'artistic'. Card making; scrap-booking; producing ATC's and ACEO's; needle felting; Polymer clay; painting- but in a more relaxed style than I had before, and sewing, - are all things which I visit, as and when life allows. I've fairy recently become a Textile Artist and am enjoying this new creative outlet very much as it offers me so much scope for letting my imagination run through a grassy field and feel the wind in my hair - (mentally, of course). I love to create. To make things. I truthfully believe that the best gifts in the world are those in which you've given your time, rather than your cash. Thank you so much for visiting. Please visit my blog (link below) and have a look around. I'm sure you'll find something to enjoy, even if it's only a handful of jokes! (yes, seriously - there really are jokes!) Wishing you a truly blessed rest of your day! ~ Cobs. <3

26 thoughts on “Meet Alf Capone – one of my Craft Room companions.”

  1. Ohhh what a character! I miss my little buddies. I use to be like you 2 cats, 2 dogs, 2 gerbils. 2 Boys! They really can brighten your day, and they can love without limit. I haven’t any pets as I have to work full time but I so miss all of mine. I’m sorry to hear you’ve been ill and I hope you are well on the mend, but that’s the trouble when God puts an angel on earth…..he usually wants them back, but he’ll just have to wait as you haven’t finished crafting lol 🙂 xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hello Kim, thank you so much for the comment. I can’t imagine being without a four legged member of the family, my heart belongs to them all, and I’ve had animals since my teens. You must get an ache in your heart every now and again for something with four little paws, who’s eyes will light up when they see you.

      Bless you for your good wishes. Not sure about being an Angel mind, but I keep trying. lol.
      Sending you much love ~ Cobs. x ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Brilliant post Cobs. I really enjoyed reading it. “Alfie Pops” sounds such a character and obviously brings you much joy. Hope all goes well with the tests and that you are feeling better soon.
    Sending healing hugs, Flo xx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hello Florence, great to see you.
      Alfie Pops certainly is character, plus some. You’re right, he’s a total delight and I adore him.

      Thank you for your good wishes Flo, and for leaving me such a lovely message. I love the friendly side of blogging, and messages & comments are great for getting everyone chatting, which is just fabulous!

      Sending love to you and yours ~ Cobs. x ❤


  3. He is adorable! Funny how some cats are thieves. My daughter’s cat would leave coins in her shoes. We joked that Daisy was making sure she had bus money.

    My boy Frankie also loves the craft room. He is usually Business Cat in the craft room, but lately he is Craft Cat, too and has to be in all the pictures.

    I hope for the best with your doctor visit. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hello lovely Kim! 🙂
      Aww Daisy sounds fantastic! A cat who obviously has a bank account. Perhaps she was an accountant in a previous life and so knows how to look after the money side of life. lol.

      Frankie sounds adorable – maybe he’s a budding model. He’s found his ‘calling’. Perhaps he has ideas of becoming famous by his picture being on the front of some famous/well known cat food packets, or maybe the logo for a pet shop.

      Bless you for your good wishes Kim.
      Sending oodles of love ~ Cobs. x


    1. Hello HannahB! Great to see you again. Thank you for the comment and the good wishes. I’m pretty much ‘repaired’, but I do have some totally numb areas – which they warned me about, but said that feeling might come back over a period of 6 months.

      The Cat … ohh yes indeed, a cheeky chap he certainly is, but you’re right – he’s gorgeous, and that seems to make up for the rascal streaks which he has. lol

      Hope you and yours are doing well and that life is good for you, my fellow blogging friend.
      Sending buckets of love ~ Cobs. x


  4. Thank you for a delightfully entertaining look into the life of the beloved Alfie Pops, member of the notorious cat mafia!

    Sending lots of love and well wishes your way. Hugs from across the pond.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Hi Cobs and thanks for introducing your Mafiosi! These days I only have Sam Wise an Abyssinian with attitude, to keep me “in line”. Previously I was hand maid to four felines Billy the Kid, who was a bit of an outlaw but so lovable! Jesse Jomo was our “black as midnight” with a white badge on his chest….he was the supervisor, especially of my husband’s activities.
    Then there was Possum and Cadbury. Possum was an affectionate keg on legs and was our Duchess whilst Caddie was our little princess. I miss them all so much. They were part of my life for 20 plus years.
    Best wishes from Sam and myself on your return to good health: Sam really is a healing cat and if you lived closer I would share his magic touch. When I am ill he sits on the bed and pats my face or curls up for a snooze holding my hand.
    I am so glad you had all the “bad bits” excised. Not nice at the time, but worth it in the long run.
    Purrs and cyber hugs from Maureen and Sam


    1. Ohh, Bless your beautiful heart Maureen, both for the kind wishes and for the lovely comment. You describe your furry crew so well that I can picture them in my minds eye.

      Sam sounds like such a sweet natured little thing. I think I’d probably ‘baby’ him – which would probably drive him nuts, but he’d perhaps let me do it just to humour me! :o)

      Sending you heaps of love and chinny tickles for Sam. ❤
      Have a blessed rest of your Sunday. ~ Cobs. x


  6. I loved this so much that I read it to my husband who enjoyed it equally as much. Thank you for such a great story – it proves that if a blog is interesting enough it can be as long as War And Peace and not become boring in the slightest. This was captivating from beginning to end!


    1. Mr. Alf is unavailable at the moment. He’s probably keeping an appointment … with a neighbour … and asking for a tidbit because he’s sooooo unloved at home.

      However he looks NOTHING like unloved, and, when you attempt to pick him up, he WEIGHS nothing like unloved. He’s like a small black panther, or a very large domestic cat. He’s h.u.g.e. So big and so heavy that I actually can’t pick him up because I can’t support his weight. When he lays on the sofa he takes up half of it. Mr. Cobs has complained about this many times, but Alf simply stretches a lazy sort of stretch and says “tickle my tummy” with a glint in his eye.

      As soon as Mr. Alf returns, I shall tell him about Neurotic Cats message of lurve, and report on what he says.

      In the meantime … soft chinny scratches to Neurotic Cat from me. x ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Dear Mr Alf,
        Your slave Cobs has been good enough to perhaps broach an introduction on my behalf, would it be inappropriate to perhaps write a post to you in anticipation of a reply ???
        Yours an enamoured
        Neurotic Cat


        1. Mr. Alf has just returned, via the front door, over the bottom half of it (it’s a stable door), and I have given him your message Neuro C. He was pleasantly surprised and rather flattered.

          He’s currently eating his late afternoon snack, but I’ve interrupted him to ask him about your proposal and between snaffles of food he said he’d “be delighted!”. And I know that he will because he’s that type of chap.

          Mr. Alf has now filled his kite (sorry … finished eating) and is now lay on the floor behind the distressed carver chair, which is by the open door, cooling himself in what little breeze there is, and he asks me to sign off in this way: “buuurp”.

          Uncouth. What can I say but, uncouth.

          Liked by 1 person

            1. I’ve done a little introduction which you might like, Ms. Neuro C. (so tell Mrs.P please, so that she knows)

              Mr. Alf is currently in a photo-shoot so that he can give you a taste of himself, when he replies to your ‘advances’.

              Liked by 1 person

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