Hail fellow bad cats, I am writing to tell you about my manly achievements yesterday.
As it was raining yesterday evening I could not go outside which I found most dispiriting. My owner informs me that ghastly Purina have discontinued my favourite sachet food which came with lashings of delicious gravy and she now keeps trying to fob me off with similarly high priced but immensely inferior alternatives. I had eaten about half the food during the day but on her return I shouted at her loudly to immediately provide me with something more satisfying and befitting my high status but despite my loud protests she failed to do so and I was forced to eat small mouthfuls when she was not looking. I lolled about for most of the evening and sat on a pile of items waiting to be ironed that my owner had kindly left out for me. At about ten my owner went upstairs. She tried to encourage me to take a resting place for the night but this was not for me and I rushed about the house seeking out potential enemies in dark and forbidding corners. When I got tired of this pursuit I went upstairs but my owner was unresponsive. This was shocking behaviour on her part so I immediately set forth with my forehead and great muscular body to push her limbs about until she woke up. A satisfactory result was achieved and I was escorted downstairs to the kitchen. My favourite pale pink paste was produced and she tried to enclose me within the kitchen. Ha, ha, I thought, I am having none of that and rushed with manly vigour forthwith through the gap in the door. She tried repeating this procedure several times without success. She then returned to bed and I took my manly station on the end of the bed and sharpened my claws on her sheet. Eventually slumber overcame me. At 3.00 am I awoke and resumed my limb-moving technique so that my owner could come downstairs and I could demonstrate my manly prowess at attacking my toys as I was filled with much manly testosterone and needed to release my aggression. She again tried the kitchen imprisonment without success. At 5.15 am I demanded to be let out into the great wilderness and was not taking no for an answer. At 7.20 just as my owner was getting ready to leave I demanded to be tucked under her bedspread so that I could recover my energies for another exciting evening …
Dear Mr M Osez
ReplyDeleteWhat a lucky owner you do have, I do not always have the time to pay enough attention to mine in the night and fear she must be very bored just lying there. It cannot be good for them surely? I do know that she always very much appreciates it when I burst through her bedroom window at four in the window and inform her LOUDLY of how many mice I have deposited beneath the trampoline to rot with my other collection of mouse carcases.
I do commiserate with you being forced to eat inferior food. Imagine my predicament; not only must I eat food from (whisper it) Asda, but I am obliged to share it with the timerous ginger creature who also abides with us. She was here when I moved in, and despite my best attack efforts refuses to budge. She says she is a cat, but I am not convinced.
What entertainment have you planned for your owner this evening? The moon is big and I am full of energy. I may try and catch a badger.
Sincerely
Mr A Gustus
Dear Mr Gustus
DeleteOh my! I am biting my bottom lip just thinking about the excitement of a badger carcass. That would be an impressive length of furriness. I am particularly fond of an impressively huge pigeon that sits on the telegraph wire and wish you could come around and give her a good chew and cup her head with your claw. With the moon in full splendour you should have ample light to aid you in your hunting pursuits. My inner goddess is doing somersaults with suspense at what naughty boy activities I can come up with this evening and I suggest you give your owner’s ponytail a good bite to awaken her if I were you. We are males after all and must keep the females in submission due to our traumatic childhoods.
Mr M Osez (in the manner of Fifty Sheds of Fur: The Great Malting)