Well, what else do you call it when your owners go away for 4 whole nights leaving you at the mercy of surrogate feeders! While I admit that the people my owners have chosen are very kind, they don't know exactly how I like my food dishes to be arranged, they are not privy to the "special" nicknames lavished upon me by my soppy owners, and they have yet to invite me to sleep on their feet at the end of their bed, and as such they are poor substitutes!
To make matter worse, it appears my owners have gone to stay at a place a few miles away from my previous 7 homes! Not wishing to be paranoid, but could it be they are in negotiations for the upcoming Catty-Transfer-Window (akin to the Football Transfer Window) and are planning to pass me onto my 9th home and back to Dorset?
I have been racking my brains to understand why such transfer would be deemed necessary? I have amused my owners, submitted to their demands for cuddles and kisses (yuk!), and tolerated their foibles and strange demands that I do not sharpen my claws on the furniture! The only possible reason for transfer would be because of my superior intellect and wisdom, they feeling inadequate by contrast, and are seeking to offload me rather than try and elevate themselves to the "high bar" I have set!
I have decided to order several "pay-per-view" movies while they are away - after all, I will say innocently, "Exactly how long did you expect a ball of wool to amuse me?" I have also decided that I will be very "offish" when my errant owners return, withholding my affections and limiting contact to feeding times, until I know the "score". If I am to be required to pack my water dish and feeding bowl into my spotty handkerchief, I shall leave with dignity and my Catty whiskers held aloft - oh, and leaving a fresh fish to "mature" behind a room vent, or under the car seat, for good measure! Hell hath no fury like Catty-kin scorned!
In the meantime I will take the Chav-set Rooney's lead and book myself a recuperating rest away in Dubai!
1 comment:
Dear Mr Patterson, I can only say that our poor boys have had to spend the last two weeks trapped in the house, with a twice daily visit from Glenda - which I suppose is not that bad as she absolutely knows what treats and titbits to feed them!
Chin up, I say, and focus on the joy of freedom...
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