Having now been living with a cat (*) for a few years I thought I’d got used to them. At least a bit.
The evil look they give in the milli-second between curling up on your lap and deciding to bite, scratch and claw their way to whichever artery is nearest their sharp bits. The amount of hair left everywhere they go. Their ability to find out every time the butter lid is left off. And my ability to realise with disgust that the odd marks left in the butter are the result of a cat tongue. The way they sprint across the bottom of the stairs while you’re at the top, appearing to resemble the odd aliens from “Pitch Black” (the awful Vin Diesel film where he’d had surgery on his eyes to allow him to see in the dark solitary confinement of prison which just happened to assist his anti-hero status for the film. Nowadays, I guess such a surgical shine might be beneficial to reduce electrcity and lighting bills to something affordable. Must look into it.).
I’m still being proved wrong.
JB’s Christmas present (at least the most expensive one) was too big and obvious to wrap conventionally. So I boxed it up in two of the boxes I had left in the garage from moving house three years ago. And one of them found a way into the dining room where it still is. For one main reason.
The cat now likes jumping in when we’re eating. She normally just sits there. I lobbed her least favourite mouse toy in the other day for a bit of fun. She played with it for a micro-second before getting bored. Mainly she just sits there.
Today she sat for a while. Then had a lie down. Then jumped out and put her head in the handle of my running kit bag. Then panicked and ran out from it and scratched the rug as if to say “I meant to get scared. Honest”. Then walked towards the kitchen past her litter tray.
Which just recently has required the use of an old coal scoop to clean out. Not sure why. But I decided it needed a wash anyway so the lid was in one place, the litter bag in another and the tray all empty and alone.
And as the cat looked at it, I’m sure she was saying “if you think I’m going to use it like that, in the style of “Masterchef” and a failed pudding that gets offered up as a de-constructed apple turnover, you’ve got another think coming”.
But MasterPoo for cats has a certain ring to it, I reckon.
I will get used to the cat. I’m sure.
Today I ran around a bit and totalled up 6.67 miles. Not bad, not as easy as yesterday, but then I did promise I’d run slowly and keep to 8 minute miles on an undulating route, only realising once home that the virtual partner I was keeping pace with was set to 7.45’s.
Ah, well. No harm done. Yet.
3mm more rain for the day. I dodged that though by running at 12.30, just as the drizzle was setting in but before it became precipitation proper.
* – Cathy (aka JogBlog)’s cat