Excuse me, I‘m Lissy, I‘m a cat, I‘m a pretty cat with manners, a lady, always well dressed. I‘m proud to say so.
But all this rain puts me in a depressive mood. Rain, rain and more rain. Sometimes a well organized rain, straight down, down straight from the cloud to the lawn, like white strings hanging down, controlled rain. Like any wind is switched off. Rain and more rain.
The other sort of rain is a wild one, sweeping, horizontal flying, with thick drops, changing direction with the wind. I can‘t stand that sort of rain either. Well, to be honest, I can‘t stand any sort of rain. It puts me in foul humor. And I can assure you, all cats are the same. We don‘t like rain. Yes, we are able to swim. But we don‘t want to get wet at all. I can‘t go outside. No mouse patrol, no inspection of my garden. Ok, no birds trying to terrorize me either.
There is a big difference between me and my two humans. I‘m in a bad mood on a rainy day. Seems, they are constantly in a bad mood. That has an effect on me. When they have the blues, when they have no time to serve me or they change feeding times or they change my loving food brand or they forget me at all, oh girl, watch out.
My humans talk about me. I can understand every word they say. But I don´t react, playing stupid. Let them believe they talk about me without noticing. Granted, I can’t control my ears. When I hear my name, when they are talking about me, it’s like a natural reflex. One ear turns into their direction. Like my mind turns uncontrolled towards their conversation. But I show no emotion. I should give comments. Things I hear is about my bad behavior, they want to give me the phone number of the organisation against animal cruelty, they would like to bring me back to the animal shelter where >I’m from, where they picked me up. No, thank you for your offers. I play cool in these moments, because I know they like me secretly. I’m always careful not to cross a certain line, not to annoy them that much. But I have to fight my corner. They don’t want me to get the blues. All they want is a happy pet.
What is the command I can’t stand? „show me your belly“. They want me to lie down, turn on my back, present my belly and throw all paws up in the air. Once I did it myself and that was a mistake. No human girl will make such a ridiculous presentation. But that’s a good way to keep the ladyship and lordship happy. Then they smile at me and call me a good girl. With that pose I can make up for all my troubles.
Difficult, I tell you, it’s very difficult. After the rain season the weather turned into a very hot summer straight away. It was too hot or days. It was unpleasant in the sunlight. Only hiding myself in the hedges was a bit of a relief. There I had to share my spot with plenty o insects, horrible. That has to put you in a bad mood. I was itchy everywhere. My left back leg got tired of scratching my head. Using my back leg while scratching my tongue moves simultaneously, can’t stop it. Tongue gets exhausted too and I need my tongue for nearly everything.
Sitting in the garden my two can openers were watching me. Terrible audience, so they are. When I was licking my rear end and putting my back leg up in the air, these two not sportive people gave comments, loud laughing, asking each other if they can stretch their legs up high, if they can reach every part o their body. Grinning from ear to ear himself said, he is able to do so with his front legs and a piece of soap in the shower. What’s so funny about it, I get the blues listening to that.
By the way, I love the movie „Aristocats“. I fell in love with Thomas O`Malley. That’s a super guy. All the tom cats around here where I live I can’t stand. Stupid cats.
Don’t say I’m fuzzy. Mice don’t taste as nice before. Something has changed. Think, mice do not find the right food anymore because of a change in climate. Climate change? Yes, I feel it myself and I listen to my two humans. When they switch on the telly the sound is far too loud for my sensitive ears. But the odd time I get the news about climate change as well. And I understand. I’m an educated cat. That’s probably another reason; you can’t avoid the blues while listening to the news.
Even the food they give me got worse. My two servants are on a health kick. Less meat, more vegetables, better quality, ha ha. Without asking me I have to join this non tasty way. Hello, I’m a cat, a meat eater. Go away with your fancy and expensive organic stuff. Give me ordinary cat food, those little containers with my picture on it. I don’t want smoked salmon or roasted zucchini. I want a full dish and I want meat. Seems, they don’t listen to me. Food is never right anyway. To open a new can is good, but would you eat the same food all they, without any variation. I get the blues.
The only excitement left all day is my cardboard box with all the wine corks. Every morning herself throws in a few crunchy nibbles, called Dreamies or so. That’s great fun. I can dig and push and smell. Wine corks are flying from left to right and back. Below I sniff out those little nourishment. Wonderful, tasty. That sort of activity I like very much. That’s really a highlight of the day. More more more, is my comment. But the amount of Dreamies is limited. Eating too many Dreamies would turn me into a drug addict, the say. Yes, I would like to give an answer. I am a drug addict, about life. I love to eat, drink, hunt and sleep. When this daily perfect pattern is in turbulence, girl, then I get the blues.
Last week a terrible thing happened. I was asleep, but you know, there’s always an antenna of mine on reception. So I hear this noise from the kitchen. Thought I was dreaming first. But the sound of opening a can was real. Immediately I woke up, jumped off the sofa, ran as fast as I could to the kitchen, wide awake, seeing himself mingling with a can and a can opener. But then, terrible, it was just a can of Italian tomatoes. Dreadful, I hate that.
Over all, I think it’s a lack of respect. In Egypt we cats were treated as Queens, as Goddess. No devotion by the humans anymore. Tolerance, I say to myself, tolerance. In my view tolerance is that time gap until they follow me without any complains. Then I will hand out a sort of a certificate, stating they are allowed to serve me. A certifiCATe, do you get me?
You know, I’m listening. Recently there was a big negotiation about a major procurement. For a piece of furniture. Seriously, they might buy a big cat tree, three levels high, very stable, colourful, with spots to sit, sleep and hide. Can’t wait for that, hopefully they fulfill their dream. I’m looking forward to that first moment, when my two people are sitting comfortable on that cat tree while I’m stretched out on the sofa. That will be the day I don’t get the blues. Meeeoooouuuwww.
