Being a cat is not easy. Of
course, there are many perks- no need to get up at a ridiculously early hour
like He does. (Why? It never ceases to amaze me). Every morning He rushes down
the stairs and grabs a chocolate croissant. If I’m lucky and he’s in a real
rush, the croissant will slip from his hands and that’s where I get my
breakfast. So much better than this muddy cat stuff. I wonder why people think
it’s good for me. One chocolate croissant. Is it really too much to ask for?
Anyway, where were we? Oh yes,
he grabs a chocolate croissant and kisses Her on the cheek. No, it’s not a
kiss. It’s more of a peck. He knows he should do it, so He does. Mechanically.
One quick peck on the right cheek.
And She mechanically turns the cheek and says in this falsely cheerful
voice: ‘Have a lovely day!’ but I know that she doesn’t really care about his
day, already too absorbed planning her own. Then it’s Her turn to get ready.
Before She heads upstairs to put some weird red staff on her mouth, She gives
me the muddy food. Ok, ok, I’m being slightly on the critical side here. In
fact it’s not too bad and the fish variety could rival the sausage that I
sometimes find on the table, if it is inadvertently left there. Or maybe they
leave it there because they know I want it? Why do they get to eat in a
civilised way, sitting at this lovely (oh how good it feels to dig my nails
into it) wooden table and I have to eat from the floor? Yes, you get it right.
From the FLOOR.
Anyway, I have to admit that
the muddy stuff does actually make my charcoal fur shine even more, when I look
at myself in the mirror. I don’t know why she hates it when I sit in the
bathroom sink. Surely, I have the right to admire myself just as she does? And
I spend less time there than she does. Plus, there are so many interesting
things to play with. My favourite one is the funny tube that releases this
weird colourful substance when I press on it. Once, being driven crazy by my
ignorance as to its purpose, I hid under the cupboard and saw Him squeezing the
substance into his mouth. This was followed by a vigorous scrubbing with a
strange object. Humans are really bizarre. Why would they eat something that
smells so awful- a strong odour of mint- rather than enjoy the taste of cheese
or ham? Anyway, I’m rambling
again. See, being cat is really not easy. So where was I?
Oh yes, when they leave the
house I am bored. All the mice, which used to be so fun to chase after, (Do not
for a moment think I would have eaten them, although this is apparently what He
expected of me, when I first brought him a nice, freshly strangled and bitten
specimen), disappeared long ago and now I need to come up with some new
activities to occupy myself with.
My favourite pastime is
ripping apart the huge sheets of paper with black letters all over them, which
I find discarded near the bin (She’s too lazy to put them inside the bin, so
they end up laying everywhere but not where they are supposed to be) and
contemplating. Yes, you got it right. I spend most of my day contemplating.
Humans don’t get it. I’ve
heard them laugh so many times when they catch me absorbed in this extremely
intense task and say: ‘ Oh look, she’s sitting motionless again. Like a
statute! Maybe she’s turned into a sphinx?’
What is a sphinx? When I demanded,
they gave me a sausage. Of course, a sausage is ALWAYS appreciated but not when
I want to deepen my knowledge, which is, not to be boastful, quite extensive
and impressive. Who knows better
than I do where are the keys that got lost two months ago? (Ok, I did learn
this fact by making them disappear and hiding underneath the sofa but please do
understand, they make the loveliest noise possible when I chase them around the
living room)
But how long can one
contemplate for? When they finally return, (Why is he always so stressed when
he comes home? And if he is, why does he keeping rushing so much wherever it is
that he goes in the morning? What’s the point in rushing somewhere where you
don’t want to be? It’s as if I was rushing to be bathed. Not happening. Ever.
Humans really are weirdest of creatures.), I get one shot at running out of the
door and going for a lovely walk. I don’t understand why they get so angry when
I do get out and why do they keep chasing me.
I would always come home. Where else would it be so warm and
where else would I have so much food? I am not a bin cat. I feel repulsed by
some cats that fight for a smelly piece of bone down the street. Honestly,
can’t they just go home and ask for something better? That’s what I do whenever
I feel hungry. I’ve also noticed that when I look at Her very intently, without
blinking, she makes this cooing, funny noise: ’awwww’ and gives me something
very tasty.
This was the noise she made one
day when her loud blonde friend in very high heels and smile that seemed to be
plastered on her face brought with her a small, wailing creature. I found the
creature mildly interesting but the humans treated it as if it was a miracle.
They gathered around the creature, started smiling and saying how beautiful the
creature was. Well they don’t say this about me this often. I did feel jealous! Maybe I should be
wailing like the creature?
Anyway, when I go for a walk I
get to observe the humans in their natural habitat. Normally, I sit in the
middle of the street in the dark and watch whoever passes by. Most of them are
always in a hurry. I presume they have more wailing creatures at home, as they
all seem to like them. Sometimes,
they walk slower, however, enjoying the views and the calmness of the night. (See
how poetic I’ve become since I’ve started contemplating life in the middle of
the dark alley?).
Look at these two male humans.
They seem to be angry. They are shouting at each other and not paying even
slightest attention to me, even though I am sitting here very gracefully.
Strange. Not even batting my long eyelashes or seductive purring seems to be
interesting to them. Well, their loss.
Oh, this is interesting! There
is a couple, kissing passionately, He presses her against the wall and she says
(actually that resembles my purr): ‘One more kiss. Please’. They seem to be in
another reality, another dimension. Although I’m a few metres away, I can still
feel the love and passion that surrounds them like magical aura. After all, I’m
a cat, and being one I’m in possession of many special gifts, which most humans
do not have. Now, that’s what I call a kiss.
I have to run home and tell
Them how it should be done.