Off with her Head
When I was growing up, we always had a cat. We only ever had one at a time, always neutered or spayed, and mostly with strange names. Shostakovitch, for example, ( a composer), or Kishou, (a maiden from a Gilbert and Sullivan piece), or Thotmes (an egyptian ruler). We never had a cat-flap, the cat usually let us know if it wanted to be let out by meowing, or to be let in by jumping up on a windowsill and scratching on the glass. I slept in one of the two attic bedrooms, where the warm air rose during the evening, and the cat would always come and sleep on my bed after dark. It was reassuring to wake suddenly during the night from some dream and reach out to stroke the weight that pressed on the coverlet. If the cat hadn't started up, then the sudden noise must have been in the dream, not in the house.
I now have three cats, and a catflap. One of them refuses to use the flap and insists that she be let in and out by the door, as if she were human. Two of them like to try and sleep on the bed, but because I now do not sleep alone, there is less room, and my partner has complained several times about being squashed out of the bed by a persistent pressure from whichever cat it was that snuggled up against her. With winter and the need to shut the doors in the place to keep the draughts down, the cats lost their easy access to and from the bedroom.
I started smuggling one of them into the bedroom with me recently, because I still remember the childhood reassurance of reaching out in the darkness and finding a warm bundle of fur to touch, and this cat is happy sleeping on the top edge of the pillow, touching the top of my head, so my partner is unlikely to complain about being levered out from under the covers. On the coldest nights during the recent snows the green-eyed tabby cat actually wrapped herself around the top of my head, as if to stop the goblins from stealing my brains while I slept.
Unfortunately, this same cat can be rather clumsy getting on and off the bed, and once or twice walked across my partner's face, so I try to make sure that she stays on my pillow. What my partner doesn't get woken up by won't enrage her. I sleep fitfully on the Sunday night when I have to go to bed early in order to get up at 3 the next morning, and during one of the brief periods of wakefulness I glanced to my left. In the moonlight I could see the dark bulk of the cat, curled up on my partner's pillow. I reached out both arms and tried to pick her up to switch her back to my own pillow. Luckily I realised my mistake in time and stopped short of wrenching my partner's head from her neck. The green-eyed tabby was still on my pillow, watching me with a curious expression on her face.
The warm weather is coming back, and I can soon sleep with the window kept open, and the cats can come and go as they please. And this is my last Monday morning on which I have to get up at 3 and drive from Wiltshire to Lincolnshire, so I will be able to have a normal night like most of the other people. The Sopwith Camel is coming home. The war will soon be over. Eleven eleven eleven is near.
I now have three cats, and a catflap. One of them refuses to use the flap and insists that she be let in and out by the door, as if she were human. Two of them like to try and sleep on the bed, but because I now do not sleep alone, there is less room, and my partner has complained several times about being squashed out of the bed by a persistent pressure from whichever cat it was that snuggled up against her. With winter and the need to shut the doors in the place to keep the draughts down, the cats lost their easy access to and from the bedroom.
I started smuggling one of them into the bedroom with me recently, because I still remember the childhood reassurance of reaching out in the darkness and finding a warm bundle of fur to touch, and this cat is happy sleeping on the top edge of the pillow, touching the top of my head, so my partner is unlikely to complain about being levered out from under the covers. On the coldest nights during the recent snows the green-eyed tabby cat actually wrapped herself around the top of my head, as if to stop the goblins from stealing my brains while I slept.
Unfortunately, this same cat can be rather clumsy getting on and off the bed, and once or twice walked across my partner's face, so I try to make sure that she stays on my pillow. What my partner doesn't get woken up by won't enrage her. I sleep fitfully on the Sunday night when I have to go to bed early in order to get up at 3 the next morning, and during one of the brief periods of wakefulness I glanced to my left. In the moonlight I could see the dark bulk of the cat, curled up on my partner's pillow. I reached out both arms and tried to pick her up to switch her back to my own pillow. Luckily I realised my mistake in time and stopped short of wrenching my partner's head from her neck. The green-eyed tabby was still on my pillow, watching me with a curious expression on her face.
The warm weather is coming back, and I can soon sleep with the window kept open, and the cats can come and go as they please. And this is my last Monday morning on which I have to get up at 3 and drive from Wiltshire to Lincolnshire, so I will be able to have a normal night like most of the other people. The Sopwith Camel is coming home. The war will soon be over. Eleven eleven eleven is near.
2 Comments:
It's a long time since I have enjoyed the company of cats, but there is one thing I clearly remember: some cats, when they get really comfortable, have a habit of extending their claws and doing some kind of dog-paddle motion, as if they're trying to meld seamlessly into you. It's good that they can be so relaxed. But it can be a tad uncomfortable. It is important, if you are smuggling a cat into your bedroom, to take great care in the selection of said cat. Wouldn't you agree?
Instead of care, you can use gaffer-tape. Makes more noise when you tear it off the roll, but works a treat on controlling the lacerations. And, as a bonus, if the cat does manage to work free and give you a swipe or two, gaffer tape is every bit as good as sticking-plaster.
That's almost worth a mention in Viz.
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