Anyone who keeps cats will be aware that they like their routines. Arsinoe is one of the more unusual cats I have kept over the years. She is very much “my” cat. No one else can get near, although in the latest few months she has softened a bit towards Mrs L.
Of an evening as we settle down to bed, Arsinoe likes to land on my chest and pummel me for ten minutes or so. This happens every night.
Apart from last night. She was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, I asked Mrs L if she had seen her.
No.
How odd. I put my dressing gown on and went into the back room. No sign of her. Hmmm. I went downstairs. Still no sign. Not in the kitchen. I opened the kitchen door and looked outside. Nope. I then called her for several minutes. I was wondering if I should start to worry.
Slightly concerned, I closed the door, turned around and there she was sitting behind me watching me. I’m sure she was laughing.
You’re sure she was laughing? As I’m live-in staff to several felines, I’m damned certain she was having a titter at your expense. She undoubtedly believes that you need to be reminded of your place from time to time. Mine do!
It`s not laughter, it`s pity manifested by their inherent superiority. Now and again they need to remind themselves not get too attached to the hired help by keeping you on your toes.
Indeed. This piece will resonate with we priviledged few who have been selected by a cat to be their “useful idiot”. To the cat-haters, who you so rightly lambast whenever they raise their ugly heads, this piece will simply reinforce the idea that “your cat is plotting to kill you and take over the world”.
Don’t get me started on cats! Our four are a daily topic of conversation chez nous with anecdotes touching on their aristocratic insolence and shameless opportunism. (Rather like the female sex in general, I suppose. I wonder if men who like cats like women, too?)
She’s beautiful!