(with apologies to Mark Haddon)
Some of you probably know that night-time is the
natural habitat of us felines. Unfortunately for those of us held in house
arrest by you humans, you are quite the opposite - so we have to adapt to your
routine to make you feel loved (and in order to get the food, attention and
adoration that we so richly deserve).
What you probably DON’T know is that when you lot have finally given into your
human natures and succumbed to sleep (even
the likes of DanglyMan who seems to be doing his best to evolve into some kind of a nocturnal animal),
THAT’s when we come into our own.
You might think that once you’re snoring softly – or not
so softly – beneath the covers, we stay curled up at your feet where you’ll
find us when the birds start squawking their dawn chorus outside the window as
the sun comes up.
Think again. Night-time is my time.
It’s when I finally have the chance to conduct a proper patrol of our shared habitat,
unencumbered by shouts of “Get down!”,
or endless maulings and fussing interrupting my inspection and musings on The
Meaning of Life.
Timing is everything. My humans don’t make that easy.
Big Red and NoisyKid aren’t too bad, heading to their beds after three or four hours or
so staring at the box with the moving pictures. But for some reason, they get unaccountably
annoyed when I follow them to give them a personal performance of my latest impressive dance routines on their beds once
they’re tucked up under the covers.
Some promise of salvation lays with DanglyMan, who I
can pretty much guarantee will be around for a couple more hours after the
others have gone to sleep (lightweights!). It’s our chance for some serious
man-to-man time when I can share my pearls of wisdom with him, in between
performing my balletic moves round the lounge and delivering
therapeutic massages on his belly. But eventually, even he surrenders to the
night and heads for his bed. I go with him. After all, I wouldn’t want him to
feel unloved, would I?
Only once he is purring like a diesel engine with his
mouth wide open (what manners!) and
his arms flung across Big Red snoozing shoulders am I truly free.
Then, at last, it’s time for my true nature to come to the fore. A time
when there is nothing to do except to wait and to hunt. There’s a shortage of prey in my prison but a cat has to make the most of what he has to paw,
doesn’t he? Where my nature drives me to track down voles, moles and hedgehogs (whatever they are), I have to hone my
hunting skills on socks, stray scraps of paper, dust bunnies (or which there are far more round here than
there should be - subtle hint to Red there) and stray insects.
It’s not ideal
but what can I do? Instinct drives me, even when I don’t know why I’m running
down the hallway with what the thing Big Red calls ‘Swiffer’ (but I call ‘Darling’) to hide out and hug in my
special hidey-hole.
I find people confusing. Some
of you humans think God has put you lot on earth because you’re the best animals.
Of course, we all know you’re not (I don’t
think I need to state the obvious here, do I?). Human beings are just an
animal that will evolve into another animal, and that animal will be cleverer and
more cat-like. Then maybe human beings will be put in zoos or have to tolerate
being fussed and patronised like pets just to get their basic sustenance.
Dogs are different and, to be
fair, I can see why so many humans prefer them. You always know what a dog is
thinking. It has four moods. Happy, sad, cross and concentrating. Cats are more
interesting – and that probably is too much for some of your number to deal
with.
Being clever is when you
look at how things are and use the evidence to work out a new way of
getting what you need. Like me letting my humans believe that I’m so devoted to
them that I’ll lay down with them and spent the whole night by their sides.
It’s my way of making them
feel special. It’s not a lie. A lie is when you say something
happened which didn't happen. You lot don’t understand anything I say to you,
despite your constant yapping at each other and in my direction, so how could I
lie to you? I just let you believe what suits me.
For example, this morning when Big Red opened her eyes, there I was (literally in her face) making sure the first thing she saw was a thing of beauty, thus setting her up for a good day. She thought I’d been keeping her company all night. I hadn’t, but surely it’s not a lie to let her believe what she wants, is it? And if that beautiful start to her day makes sure the first thing she does is to fill my bowl with some yummy crunchies, well that’s a result for everyone, isn’t it?
For example, this morning when Big Red opened her eyes, there I was (literally in her face) making sure the first thing she saw was a thing of beauty, thus setting her up for a good day. She thought I’d been keeping her company all night. I hadn’t, but surely it’s not a lie to let her believe what she wants, is it? And if that beautiful start to her day makes sure the first thing she does is to fill my bowl with some yummy crunchies, well that’s a result for everyone, isn’t it?
So, next time you glare at me as I curl up like the
world’s most gorgeous throw pillow on the sofa while the sun is high in the
sky, stop and think before you call me lazy. I’m not idle, I’m just gathering
my strength for the rigours of the night to come.
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