Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Tuesday, September 09, 2003

A Bear of Very Little Brains

While I am thrilled that my cats love me, I used to think I would be wonderful if they could get me something other than half a dead bird by my back portal upon my entrance at night. Last night it was a rat, one of a whole cavalcade of presents that they’ve politely stunned, chewed the legs off and deposited around the house for us to find.

I gather it’s a left-over from their clan mentality, where they see us as their family and they are teaching us to hunt. They place the dismembered rodent down and re-enact it for you, giving you a running commentary how they killed it so you can do the same. This also explains why they are all over the shopping when it gets delivered by the char, as they think we’ve been hunting in the shiny halls of Sainsbury’s and wish to know how it is done. Fortunately, gold cards seems a little beyond them.

But not hunting. Gilbert the boy-cat completely outdid himself last night, providing a dead rat, half chewed, still warm and twitching so, and wished to show us the dramatic battle that resulted in half its spine being eaten. Comedy housemate Ian, who is not Gilbert’s greatest fan it has to be said (witness him trying to put him in the washer to recreate the title sequence from the Pink Panther TV series) scooped it up with a spatula and flung it over the hedge. Gilbert obviously took great umbrage at this, watching it sail into the oblivion, taking it as the gift wasn’t up to our standards.

So, bless him, off he shot into the night again to get us something else. He returned half an hour later with something furry, grubby and yellow in his maw, dumping it in the kitchen and running off to perch on the stairs to await our appreciation.

It was a teddy bear of nearly half his size.

There was a mutual stunned silence from the housemates. Where on earth did he get a teddy bear? Was there a poor five-year-old out there, stunned and clutching her slashed cheek, arms empty of dear little Rupert? Enquiring minds need to know...

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