Enthusiasm for cats not always reciprocated
Originally published 25 July 2014
There are many things in this life that I love. Mummy and Daddy of course, pulling people's hair, being tickled... But most of all, I love cats. Which is handy, since we have 3 of them at home: Bailey, Robbie and Chocky. Ever since I was a little baby, just a couple of months old and smaller than they were, I've been drawn to them.
Whenever I see one now I squeal with delight. Unfortunately this delight isn't a two-way street, and the cats don't seem to share the same enthusiasm for seeing me, which is a shame. You could say it's a downright cat-astrophe, but I'd never use such an awful pun.
One of the potential reasons they're not keen on seeing me is my propensity for pulling their fur or tails. I haven't quite mastered the art of gently patting cats yet, so instead of this I tend to grab a big fistful of fur and skin, a little like a mother cat might do when picking up another by the scruff of the neck. Except that I do it on their back, tail or pretty much anywhere within my reach.
They do get a bit of warning though, as my squeals tend to alert them that I'm approaching. This gives them time to brace themselves appropriately or escape to somewhere a bit safer (that is, anywhere I'm not).
Even if they do make a cat-dash to another room they're not entirely safe, as now that I'm a pretty fast crawler I tend to trail not far behind them, crawling frantically to catch up.
Some things will distract me from my pursuit though, for example the cats food bowl. There's normally a few little biscuits left in there which look awfully appealing. They look a little bit like the raisans I have for afternoon tea, but they don't smell like any of my food.
Mummy is pleased that I've not actually managed to sample any of the cats food yet though. Or at least, that's what she thinks...
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