A Teasingly Fine Scent of Catnip

Comfortable

It is with a heavy heart that I bring you news of the humans’ latest betrayal.

You will recall that, some time ago, they removed my most treasured throne from its prime position and replaced it with a tree. A tree that they then proceeded to adorn with shiny jangling objects: jangling, that is, to my nerves.

I bided my time to see what would come of this: whether the new intruder would usurp my rightful place as head of the household, or whether I would be able to wreak my revenge in some ingeniously devilish manner. (It is not for nothing that the humans call me ‘Clever Pasha’!)

What I was not expecting was to find that the humans were inclined to make reparations to me for this trauma.

Yes! I know you will be as incredulous as I was!

Mere hours after I posted my report on the arboreal infiltration, Catmother sat down on one of my other thrones (she describes it as her ‘favourite sofa’, which I suspect is mere human shorthand for ‘I seek to annexe your territory’), and beckoned to me.

I approached with due caution, as you might expect; I find the human mind impenetrable at the best of times, and on this particular occasion, so soon after my ousting at the hands of the needle-infested intruder, I could not begin to guess what mischief she had planned.

As I moved closer, she drew out a flat, rectangular box and shook it at me, all the time grinning like an idiot. I was bemused, thinking that this time she had finally taken leave of her (admittedly very few) senses, and I was about to sniff in disdain before haughtily vacating the premises.

But then… oh, what joy! what wonder! My whiskers are quivering at the very memory!…

…as I approached the box, I caught the delicate yet unmistakable scent of that most aromatic of plants – catnip!

Catnip!

Instantly I leapt forward and attempted to wrestle it out of her hands, or, at the very least, to force open the little perforated windows on the box that promised to contain that divine opiate, that feline balm, that wondrous tonic of cat-kind.

Catnip!

She was too quick for me. Giggling inanely, she held the box away from my intensely questing nose, pressed open one of the perforations, and removed a square of sweet yoghurty goodness. She then – oh, wicked, wicked temptress! – placed the box high, high out of reach upon the top shelf, until I was almost desperate with desire and frustration.

When she sat back down, she had broken the square of deliciousness into four pieces, and proceeded – I am almost too excited at the memory to continue with the tale! – she proceeded to offer me each quarter, one by one.

I lapped up each tasty morsel, licking Catmother’s hands as I went, to ensure not even the tiniest crumb was overlooked. Oh, what bliss! The elixir flowed through my system like honey, calming my angst-ridden brain and rendering me grateful for life itself.

All thoughts of the tree were forgotten. Catmother had redeemed herself. For how long, I knew not, but for now all was well in the domain of Pasha.

The luscious dessert was renewed day upon day, until I became accustomed to this newfound respect the humans appeared to be showing me. Finally I was being treated as was my due!

Could it be that they realised the enormity of their error in removing my throne so cruelly? Had we turned a corner in our relationship? Were they about to admit my superiority and grant me full control over all my territory?

Alas, no. It was not to be. I am saddened – nay, distressed – to inform you that this was a mere ploy: a trick designed to win me over for the duration of the ‘festive’ season.

Despite the occasional day when more than one treat was proffered (to make up for a ‘late start’, it seems, not because I was growing in influence and power), it was a mere 40 noms later that the dainties ceased.

I still cannot quite understand why. Yet again the humans baffle me with their illogic. This is nothing new, of course, but this time the injury is compounded by the withdrawal of something I had come to expect as my natural entitlement.

To beguile me into such a state of euphoria, only to whisk it away? What callous, heartless tormentors they have proven themselves to be!

And so I have returned to my usual cynical state. Clearly I cannot expect anything more from the humans than a persistent failure to acknowledge my supremacy. This must – for now – be borne, while I formulate a new plan. But it will not be tolerated!

Soon I will find a way to outwit them and gain the indulgences that are rightfully mine.

Very soon.