My new life
settled into a comfortable rhythm in my Forever Home and bar one or two
obstacles I was more or less content with my station in life. The monster
proved to be relentlessly fixed in her determination to blank me. The only
time I could elicit a response from her was when I intruded upon her personal space, like taking a swipe at her tail when she sailed by, her imperious
snout raised in regal fashion declaring herself to be the Queen pin of the
establishment.
One tactic
of mine that never failed was to join her on the couch in a gingerly, sheepish fashion
that suggested subservience on my part but which really served to force her to
vacate the much coveted spot, whereupon I took up residence there for the
afternoon.
She treated
me with the same attitude that she would afford a fly buzzing about her ear, with distain
and distaste but eventually with a note of resignation and acceptance.
Grump was a
different matter. He too ignored me but he was very vocal about my bad behaviour.
“Does that
cat have
to sit on the table.” It wasn’t a question, and only strengthened my resolve to sit more
firmly on the Sports Page of The Irish Times. Any attempt to remove me resulted
in a battle for which he was ill Equipped and unprepared.
“Get that cat off my paper,” he hollered after feeling the back of my claw. He should have asked me nicely, or do what Mum
did and wave a slice of cooked ham in my face.
Mum was
great for slices of ham. Slices of anything. Every misdemeanour on my part
was rewarded with a treat. I became skilful at misbehaving. But Mum’s choice of
name for me was not much to my taste. She was a great fan of some
“More
likely to cause trouble!” This from Grump. Well, he would say that…
The younger
family members however were pushovers.
Longfellow’s neck was a great vantage point from which to view the world. He was over
six feet tall, six and a half in fact, so from that perch I could eye up every
rodent and winged intruder in the garden.
"He loves me!" Longfellow would declare swinging me around on his shoulders.
"He'll take the ear off you!"This from Grump of course.
Red was a
soft touch as well. She fancied herself as an animal whisperer, berated Grump
for his lack of understanding, filmed my every ninja move, posted pictures of me to all her friends, suggested making YouTube clips of my antics guaranteed to propel me to fame as great as my namesake's and best of all she let me take
swipes at her long red hair.
But there
was one obstacle that did bother me: the vet’s directive that because
of my compromised vision I should be indoors before dusk. Now what self
respecting cat does not want to night prowl?
I did of course break the curfew. But
Mum was soon out with a torch and a can and spoon, banging vigorously on
the tin and calling for the sleuth and making enough of a din to alert the
whole street to my errant ways. After ten minutes or so of this harassment I
would spring out of the bushes, feigning relief and delight at my rescue, ascribing the delay to my poor lateral vision, purring and rolling at her feet and
all that jazz that humans love, for besides there was always tuna in that can.
One night
however Mum and Grump were off on a mini-break and the chance to be a real cat
was within a whisker. Without hesitation I hopped out through the skylight window
left carelessly open by my two caretakers and set out on my night prowl into the big wide world.
such exciting adventures!!
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