For Whom the Bells Toll

I am not at my best this week - suffering as I am, from a bout of tinnitus. For the last week I have heard nothing but the ringing of bells in my ears. Two to be precise!

I was the arbiter of my own doom - the mouse, who lives in the space beneath the back steps down to the basement, accidentally fell into my mouth and died, and my female owner believes she caught me in the act of "disposing" of it, when in fact I was about to present it to her for potential urgent resuscitation.

She has always made me wear a blue collar (ironic since I am definitely not blue collar material!) with one bell attached. The aim being to curb any predatory instincts I may have had towards birds, mice and other lesser beings. Anyway, needless to say, being the superior Cat that I am, I had learned how to keep my head still as I stalked, so as to minimise the sound this infernal contraption made.

I am the only cat on the block to wear such a belled-collar, and I feel rather aggrieved that I am being blamed for the fact that she says she has not seen as many wild birds in the garden this year. After all the British Trust for Ornithologists say in a recent article about such avian carnage, that 55 million birds are killed by Cats each year in the UK, and as much as I'd like to blow my own trumpet (or indeed ring my own bell!) I am not that good!

The BTO advised using more brightly coloured collars, more bells, or heaven help me, supervising my outdoor time during daylight hours! Since my female owner balked at having to follow me around the garden as I sniff and investigate every twig, leaf and bush in minute detail, she has opted for a second "louder" bell on my already crowded collar - it's only a matter of time before she adds whistles to the damn thing and my reputation will be well and truly shot to pieces.

I have not yet mastered the art of moving without sounding like a herd of tiny reindeer, and I am getting no sleep, since I am woken by the "tinkle" with every tiny movement.

Worse still, the ringing has got so bad that I can no longer hear the opening of my tins (from the usual 50 paces) or the fridge, from the other side of the house! At this rate I am going to need Psycho-Catty-therapy, but at least I will be able to answer the question "So, how long have you been hearing this ringing in your ears?"!

Since the bells are here to stay I need to train myself to ignore them - after all, rumour has it that Pavlov tried his experiments with a Cat in the first instance, but after ringing his bell to the apparently deaf ears of the said Cat (who merely lifted his head, looked at Pavlov disdainfully and went back to his daily naps), Pavlov realised he was on a hiding to nothing, and used a Dog instead for his Classical Conditioning experiments!

If Pavlov's Cat could do it, I can do it. As the idiom goes, I shall perfect the art of ignoring and overcoming this new affliction "with bells on*" (*Idiom Meaning - A term used to describe an object or situation which has been completed with a special finishing touch)