I have been thinking and writing about cats lately, so I need to observe them whenever possible. Perhaps I should go and impose myself on my sister and see what Holly and Harvey are doing just now. (Only Harvey isn't over sociable. All he ever does when I'm there is sit in a high place, watch the birds out of the window, and wait for someone to give him a machine gun.)
Since Jack from across the road died I don't see so many cats round here. I was discussing this with Dad over the phone and he told me I need to get one. I must say I've considered it. A rescue cat, ginger or tortoiseshell would be nice. When I was a girl we had a cat. A warm cat on your lap. The sound of purring. The cat having a funny five minutes racing up and down the hall, or chasing a ping pong ball or a bit of paper on a string. Cat company.
A cat who's always on the wrong side of the door. A cat bringing me dead things. A cat bringing me not dead yet things. The litter tray. Worse, 'couldn't be bothered with the litter tray'. The song that goes 'feed me, feed me, feed me NOW'. Finding the cat on the kitchen worktop polishing off the butter. Never being able to knit again because de-catting the yarn or de-yarning the cat is impossible. Worrying what to do when we go on holiday. Vet's fees or insurance. Cats may be very independent, but they do require a lot from their staff.
What do you think?
5 comments:
In my opinion, cats are always worth it. Ours live in the garage, though.
You manage to make them stay there? How?!
We put our foot in the door whenever we enter and exit, I suppose. Oreo has never been one to be discouraged, though. He's been trying to get in that door for 10 years, without much success.
The triumph of hope over experience
Post a Comment