Sunday, 29 March 2015


I like cats like I like men and children; not all of them all of the time but rather a very few specially selected examples and only some of the time.

Presently there are about three children I like. They have in common that their parents treat them as humans, not as children. There is also one man that I like and this one I can have around all of the time.

Cats on the other hand, they are tricky. My first cat love was Alphie, a huge ginger hunter on the Scottish moors who would put mice in my shoes and sleep on my chest until his weight almost crushed me. He passed suddenly in December 2014 and his mother has planted a tree in his memory. I will go and claw the bark off while climbing it in his honour soon.

The man had two mouse hunters since his time living in the derelict house. The small cat (a relative term but also a name) passed before I came into town. The fat one (not only in name) was not happy with me. This cat preferred to be alone with the man. Nobody told him cats were not supposed to act as dogs. He even came when called. After a day alone he demanded an hour worth of belly napping before he accepted us back in the house. In the two years I knew him, he sat next to me once and on me exactly once. The fat cat died during operation two and a half years ago and we still take turns acting out his part in our daily activities. When the man is cooking, a hungry me will stand next to him screaming meow, neow, now, meow, meowt, meawt, meat, meat or any variation of the two.

So I like big, fat, fluffy, independent, snugly, vicious killers as cats. Currently I dream of Nicholas.

1 comment:

  1. I have cats to keep mice out of my storage of feed grains. I have dogs, to guard the property. I have chickens, and I had goats and horses when my children lived here, before they grew up and left the mountain. For myself, as companions, I get ferrets who have nowhere to live, or are sick, and they live up here with me. I like them better than people, in general.