Now the cat master went and had some highly sugared and caffeinated beverage on Friday evening and was still tossing and turning well after the furry fuzzball was tucked up in his bed. This was fixed with the administration of a small pill which put the cat master well beyond the veil of cognition. However, he must have slept with a dead fish in his mouth as I can see no other reason why furry fuzzball should be sniffing his face at the ungodly hour of 7am. Perhaps he was hungry thought the cat master, and he raised his groggy head and headed for the cat dining room. Obviously it was not the smell of fish that caused the cat to be sniffing his face for the look of utter disdain when served fish for breakfast put paid to that theory. In fact he did not condescend to eat the said fish till nearly lunch time, after a good period of fruitless searching for tasty lizard tails.
As the thermometer reached 32 degrees the said moggy went flat on the concrete while the cat master retreated to Breaking Bad. Both were there for a significant length of time and it wasn’t till the well rested cat master investigated that he discovered the furry feline had wrapped himself so tightly around the wheelbarrow leg that lying flat on the concrete was the only option. Once freed he proceeded to become fixated on a piece of curled up bark ….or so it seemed until the half blind cat master put on his optiscopes (glasses) and to his horror discovered that the curled up bark was in fact a small snake lying next to the retaining wall in the carport. When he tried to move the snake it decided to uncoil and slither. Now handsome hunter thought this was the cat’s pyjamas and became extremely excited. The cat master however was not so pleased and raced away to get a shovel and removed the reptile, much to the disappointment of the somewhat agitated fuzzball.
Dusk was spent at the end of a leash around the pond, straining and whining, running and tangling. And then came dinner….Dinner was also not to his liking. Chicken necks must be an acquired taste. So much complaining was had that the cat master relented and gave said persistent ankle rubber a portion of his highly prized pork chop which was received much better.
Nevertheless, Cat Saturday has ended with said feline reclined in cat mumma’s TV seat, and with much licking, and a look that says ‘ the food better be good tomorrow’ he has gone to sleep.
If you enjoyed this story and you’d like to read more Cat Columns, sign up to receive blog posts by email – eyes right for the sign up box. Prince George appears in my Diamond Peak Series as Twitchet, and in my Prunella Smith series as Merlin.