Today I had to visit Saint Ben of Park Street Surgery for a moggy MOT. I have not been feeling my best over the past 24 hours.

‘Lady cat's problems,’ muttered Willi Whizkas as he ambled outside to annoy the mice. Saint Ben was his usual complimentary self and as always, praised my magnificent set of whiskers. He kindly informed me that they would grace the finest Stradivarius. A breed of cat I must admit I have not heard of, nevertheless, I blushed at his flirty comments. 

Saint Ben gave me the professional once over before I was given an injection of beauty fluid into my neck and a packet of beauty tablets given to Maid to give to me at assigned intervals. I do so like seeing Saint Ben, my own personal private surgeon, although I did grit my fangs when he put a thermometer up my bottom, a most unladylike treatment.

When we arrived back at Tom Cat Towers, Mikey Mike was on the drive as usual, mewling his undying love for Maid. I huffed in disgust. As Maid put my basket on the drive whilst she put the car away, Mikey-Mike had the utter nerve to approach my basket and poke his nose through the wires at me, his big eyes giving me the once over. I was horrified. Riff Raff cat with no home.

He only keeps hanging round here because Maid feeds him and tells him just how handsome he is and what a ‘Love-Chunks he is. Bleurgghhhh.

Mikey-Mike has a degree with honours in cupboard love and I just cannot believe what a complete fool Maid is making of herself as she lets him seduce her and he hooks his tail round her legs while he looks with utter adoration into her eyes. He was too close to me for comfort so I curled my delicate tongue and hissed at him with such anger and venom. He just thought this was a joke and carried on staring at me with love-struck eyes and a silly look on his ugly face.

I was most indignant that a tramp of a cat had the nerve to even think he could look at me so I turned round to face the back of my basket, then curled my fluffy tail round my girlie bits in case he had any ideas about looking at them!

Maid took me into the bedroom and emptied me in a rather undignified manner from the basket onto my duvet and immediately gave my injection spot a stroke to make it better. She settled me down and thrust the stuffed pink and white Bagpuss towards me, as if that was going to give me any comfort.

Humans have such peculiar ideas about cats; what cat in its right mind wants to wants to cuddle a stuffed Bagpuss? Then service was abandoned as she went to feed and generally molly-coddle Mikey Mike … sorry Love Chunks. I am quite annoyed. I could hear him through the bedroom window as he minced and sashayed up and down the drive entertaining Maid and begging to be fed and loved.

I can fully understand why his last humans abandoned him; he’s just too noisy and pathetic! He simply does not know how to do ‘discreet’ or to treat humans as a lower species as he yells and trumpets his love for Maid up and down the street - disgraceful. Dippi-Duck was also out there wobbling round in the hope that he would notice her. She would love it if Mikey-Mike noticed her, but to be honest she may as well have ‘desperate’ tattooed on her forehead for how manically she throws herself at him.

Maid’s version!

Madam has cystitis again so I zipped her down to Ben Jones at Park Street Surgery, the best vet in the universe. So another shot of antibiotics for her Madamship along with a packet of pills and another dent in the credit card! Mikey-Mike put in an appearance by jogging down the drive making such a meowsy wowsy noise when we got home. Poor cat, he is such a personality, I feel so sorry for him. He is very grateful for food. Madam doesn't like him one bit.  Any thoughts he may have in the romance department for Madam are well and truly unrequited. Dippi sits by the gate and makes eyes at him as she shakes and wobbles then falls over with concentration, but her love is completely unrequited. Mikey-Mike's heart's desire is for Madam, and Madam alone. Not that he will ever get anywhere near her regal snottiness, she has absolutely no time for him. 

  

 

Dogs Come when Called

"Dogs come when called. Cats take a message and get back to you."

"Of course, every cat is really the most beautiful woman in the room."

Edward Verrall Luca (essayist)

Sponsored Advert