Finally I have access to the humans’ laptop!
My friends, I cannot apologise enough for my prolonged absence. Catmother has been otherwise engaged these past few weeks, with something she names ‘amateur dramatics’, and the keyboard has remained resolutely unavailable.
However, despite my welcome return to the campaign trail, I am sorry to say that it is with a tale of horror that I must now regale you. Be strong, comrades – I fear that the atrocities I am about to describe must afflict you all in due course, and it would be most remiss of me not to give you due warning.
The date: yesterday. The location: my most luxurious throne, in my largest room of state (known to the humans as their ‘bed’ in the ‘master bedroom’). The weather: delightfully warm and sunny.
I was relaxing, as is my wont. Drifting in and out of a very pleasant doze, dreaming of trees, Fluttering Creatures, and my next banquet. The sunlight played agreeably on my beautifully washed and groomed fur, and I was stretching myself luxuriantly on the soft quilt.
A picture of feline bliss, is it not? You can understand, then, how disturbed I was when this enchanting scene was rudely interrupted by Catmother. Gird your loins, my friends, for the outrageous insult that I am about to relate.
In she walked, muttering a few sweet nothings (and oh! what nothings they proved to be!), and under the pretence of ministering to my need for loving strokes, she picked me up and carried me out of the room.
This was bad enough. If she had simply attempted the Cuddle Manouevre and put me straight back down, I might have shaken it off and thought no more of it. But worse was yet to come.
Keeping a firm hold of me, she proceeded downstairs and into Food Court #2 (what they refer to as the ‘dining room’), where, to my dismay, I instantly saw the Portable Prison (‘cat carrier’) in prime place on the Banquet Station (‘dining table’).
What monstrous atrocity had she planned for me? I was so overcome with shock that I missed my opportunity to scramble out of her arms and away to the safety of my outdoor domain. Yes, friends, I am ashamed to admit that I allowed myself to be placed into the Prison and thus transported into the moving vehicle the humans use to travel great distances.
Once on the move, I made my displeasure known by yowling most angrily at the top of my divinely melodic voice. I am still scandalised that this made no difference to her whatsoever; she still persisted in telling me that everything was ‘OK’.
I can see that we have very different interpretations of what ‘OK’ means.
Finally the vehicle came to a halt, and we emerged into what I recognised as a place of great doom: it was one of the bases of the human known best to me as the Cat Man. Yes, comrades, he who wields the needle, teases my fur, and prods my delicately scented torso to identify ‘health issues’. As if I am any less than purrfect!
In to the waiting area we went, and I was immediately faced with a serious affront to my dignity: a Canine Creature was pattering about at great volume! The ignorant animal even deigned to look at me. Do the humans not know that we felines require our own waiting areas, free from the company of inferior beings? I remain open-mouthed at their lack of consideration.
Fortunately this insupportable situation did not last long, and we were admitted into the domain of the Cat Man. It was time for me to decide upon a strategy: would the Hiss-Swipe-Bite Manoeuvre best serve my purpose? The Jumping-Off-The-Bench-And-Heading-For-The-Door Gambit? Or was there another ploy that would more effectively hasten my exit from that vile place?
Friends, this may surprise you, knowing your Pasha to be the fearless warrior that she is, but I eventually settled upon the Defensive Position. I took no aggressive action and allowed myself to be handled (oh! how demeaning!) by the Cat Man while he weighed me, checked my vitals (and what elegant vitals they are), and finally stuck the dreaded ‘booster’ needle into my tender flesh.
As psychologically degrading as this was, it nevertheless achieved the ultimate aim of getting myself out of there as quickly as possible. As a reward to myself for my stoicism in the face of such indignities, I allowed myself a little hiss as the needle sunk in. One cannot hide one’s nature entirely, and it does the humans good to be reminded of our true power, should we choose to exercise it.
Finally the whole appalling experience was over. Catmother placed me back into the Prison and we headed home, where she attempted to make up for her disgraceful treatment of me by serving me my evening banquet. But if she thinks this will be enough, she is very much mistaken.
Oh yes. She may think all is well and I have forgotten this outrage. But she is clearly not as well versed in the ways of us felines as she imagines. This is not something I will easily forget, and I am already plotting my revenge.
The day will come when she will regret her actions.
Soon. Very soon.