Monday, 20 April 2009

Dogs

Look at the absurd look in the swine's eye! The way he postures as though he has an ounce of sense! I assure you, the only thing on any dog's mind is how to please, at any cost, their strangely smitten owners.

Yes, owners... there is no nobility among the dog breed, only subservience - they gladly give up their independence and status for the sake of food and to be walked on a leash (can you imagine the humiliation!). For those of you who live with dogs - and you have my extreme sympathy - you will know how readily they will be dominated by us; even - or sometimes especially - when we are very small. Use them as cushions and sample their food if you take a fancy to it, they are bound not to take long term action.

The danger in dogs is indeed not inspired by malice, but on the contrary by a complete lack of brain. They may chase you mindlessly, bark at you relentlessly, and even attack you physically simply through lack of tact and mental direction.

I do not exactly advise you to fear dogs - this would suggest a kind of respect - but instead to fear their general stupidity. Remember, they cannot climb trees and are as a rule less agile than you are, and will always make a tremendous racket when chasing anything (a further sign of their willingness to relinquish skills that were perhaps once natural to them), so you're sure to hear them coming. I wouldn't say either that they were particularly unpredictable. And they are just as likely to chase a stick as to chase you.

However, the sorry fact remains that dogs are equipped with jaws whose power far outweigh their mental capacity, so take care you are not brought into contact with them - not least because you'd be webbed in drool.

Personally, I put my somehow inherent inability to abide dogs down to their fearful smell.

Saturday, 18 April 2009

The troublesome issue of cars

Cars are nasty contraptions. I'm afraid to say I've seen many a cousin fall foul of their weight and speed, and have always stuck to green spaces and avoided grey spaces as a result. All I can really say about that is to advise you to do the same.

However, let's put aside the rather gruelling possibility of being knocked by a car (it's up to you to display some nonce here and remember that arrogance in this area will get you nowhere, or worse) and turn to the business of occasionally having to travel by one. I'm afraid to say I used to make a tremendous fuss as a youth when it came to car travel. The minute I sensed something afoot, I'd first take on terrific speed, then once cornered make myself as heavy and noisy as possible. I'm afraid these tactics didn't much work, and generally made the process somewhere between ten and twenty times worse than it would have been had I remained calm.

In later years however, something came to me. I realised, while on my way to goodness knows where in the car, that travelling by it was in fact not too bad, provided I stayed calm. The vibrations are actually quite soothing, it's generally warm, and you're nearly always treated at the journey's end. I realised, in fact, that the worst part of going by car was first being put - or should I say rammed, more often - into the 'carry basket'.

Argh the basket! This, I now know, is the thing to try and avoid wherever possible.* So here's the trick: if ever you find your providers unpacking the car (this always happens when they go out to fetch pilchards, bags of the stuff must be lugged in), pop into one of the open car doors and have a little lie down in the floor at the front. Now stay there, napping, until you're spotted.**

You will find this: your providers will find this nesting inexplicably adorable, and it will occur to them (hopefully after minimal repetitions of the exercise) that they might 'keep you calm' in the car by letting you travel in this apparently natural fashion, without the use of the heinous basket. Yes, you can still be in control, even in the car! You can make a place for yourself, freely, settle down and use car travel as nap time. You will certainly find that you'll be provided with a blanket, and sometimes regular snacks. Believe me, car travel need not be anything to cringe at. I repeat - it is warm, rocks soothingly and you are sure to be well rewarded for 'good behaviour'.

* I do not pretend that you can avoid the basket on every trip. If you are on your way to the cat doctor, you are almost certain to find yourself shut in, unless you're the kind who can remain calm wrapped in a blanket or similar. I fear I'd lose my wits if anyone tried this on me.

** Don't actually fall asleep. Remain vigilant, otherwise you may be making the car your home for an indefinite period, and you'll find nowhere either to eat or perform your toilet.

Wednesday, 1 April 2009

The withering eye

I shan't squeal on about this, as you will know the importance of perfecting the withering look of the eye from a very young age - see my snap for one example of a look as disparaging as I could muster.

The withering eye can be used to make a provider check their conscience (if they have been attempting to bully you, for example, or have tried to pass sardines off as pilchards at supper time), or can also be used to stir action when sitting beside an empty bowl or disgraceful toilet tray. Your providers are there to ensure you never suffer the indignity of clearing up after yourself - perfect the withering look of the eye, and you'll find you can spur any required action at a single glance.

If you do suffer anything entirely intolerable, such as no supper or excessive contact with a difficult child - or dog! - try lying completely still in the same place for a day and a night. I think you'll find this inspires the appropriate stroking and treats. Be warned however - do NOT lie still for any longer than this unless you really are feeling dry of the nose, as you may find yourself in the car on your way to undignified prodding.

Light things and hot things

Here I am enjoying putting the finishing touches to my snowcat - to show I'm not a complete whisker in the milk when it comes to shivery outdoor fun, despite my natural love of heat.

As for indoors, heat and light do not necessarily go hand in hand, as I have discovered to my occasional annoyance. You may notice a square box in your territory around which your providers sit (sometimes for baffling hours), suggesting that it offers a glow equivalent to something hot. You'll probably know however that sitting in front of it offers little or no comfort, and you will nearly always be removed. (The light from the box, you should note, moves, and pretending to chase the shadows on it as they flit from one side to the other might win you extra time in front of the thing, but believe me it won't entertain you for long.) Also, the light from the box can be startlingly loud, so unless you suffer deafness, as I do, I'd give the thing a wide tail - except to take advantage of knee time while your dumbstruck providers sit stationary, glaring at the wretched machine.

On the other paw, some hot things do not give light, despite the obvious laws of the sun. Walls, for example, can be very hot indeed. Try lying against them at dark time or in a cold snap, and you may find terrific results. I also advise you to try and get into your providers' beds as much as possible, preferably just as they are falling asleep; they will normally find this annoying to the extreme, and are therefore more likely to succumb to notions of heat in your basket (hot water under-blankets are a good wheeze), just to keep you away. This can be especially effective if you're shedding a lot of fluff, as they're even more likely to do anything to get you out from under their covers (and remember always to make a tremendous fuss if you're simply shut out - this is your territory, not theirs, and they must learn to live by your rules).

The ultimate indoor heat comes, of course, from flames. Flames are the only thing that truly limpify me, and all my guards are down before their warmth - much like when sun basking*. The same outcome is not reached with the small flames you may find on sticks on the table or window sill. These give little heat, and can catch one painfully on the sniff or tail if one investigates. Avoid.

*A cautionary tail: when your guard is down and you are floppy with flame basking, be careful you don't suffer indignities such as being dressed up, or tied all over with string. If you awake to see a black lens or flash before you, move off with extreme caution.

Sunday, 15 March 2009

Staying on the knee and instant sleep


Staying on the knee can be a tricky manoeuvre, and one which should be mastered if possible while you are still a tiny. Tinies are far more likely to be allowed long periods on the knee, and with any luck you'll subtly have grown up before your people realise that you've tricked them into letting you dictate knee time. There is no warmer, strokier place than this, so be sure to train your people well not to fidget whilst you're aboard.

A good way to ensure that your knee provider keeps still is to become suddenly alarmed at the slightest movement; the first time your place is rocked beneath you, be ready to jump and cry out, then hold your provider with a sad, steady eye. The eye is critical here. Perform this routine from as young an age as you can manage - preferably while very small - and all being well you will win an immediate ruffle and a future of steady knee time. Remember, if you do find yourself suddenly at the ground in the middle of enjoying the knee, stay very still - or even sway if you can manage it - as though you've sustained a nasty shock. And always give yourself a good shake here before moving unsteadily off.

Needless to say, the minute you find yourself knee bound, you must immediately fall 'asleep' (note the still I snapped of myself above for reference), remembering to roll, stretch or twitch every so often to ensure good stroke time. If you can mumble in your 'sleep', all the better. People have an eccentric attitude towards sleep, as though disturbing it were some kind of terrible evil, and are far less likely to oust you when your peepers are closed. (My providers have absurdly rigid sleep time and become quite irrational when disturbed; mercifully, they project this queerness onto me, so that I only have to curl up and close my eyes, generally, for them to leave me in peace.)

I may come back to this issue of sleep, so keep your ears up.

Wednesday, 11 March 2009

Releasing wind

I'm afraid this is only really acceptable around other cats, or when alone. You will find small sympathy from your people, which I agree seems absurd considering their poor sense of sniff.

The only time I would recommend a release of wind would be next to a visitor who has hijacked your chair. If you can 'let out' without being seen, all the better - people are nervous of being blamed for sniffs, and are far more likely to exit the scene when they find no one available to point the whisker at.

Tuesday, 10 March 2009

Aiming for pilchards and landing in milk

Having established a long term routine for myself which includes pilchards at dark time, a heated basket in cold spells and mercifully hazy etiquette when it comes to places of sleep, my providers know precisely what is required of them and when. I, too, know that I am not officially entitled to pilchards until dark time, making do with dry crunch during the light (which I must admit is good for the teeth).

A brief aside about pilchards - it shocks and saddens me to think that there may be some unfortunate cats out there who have never tasted them. There is no sleep more heartily engulfed and no water more sweetly sipped than those following a plate of pilchards (preferably in some kind of coloured sauce). Believe me - and I say this with boldness - it tastes better even than butter licked from the paw. Demand the best!

It is happily for me then that I have developed a clout sufficient to demand pilchards at dark time. This led me to an experiment: were there other times of light, perhaps, when my providers were at a weak ebb and could be persuaded to serve me a second helping? The answer was a wondrous yes. Here follows a list of moments in which requests for an extra meal are most likely to be given in to:

1. If you have recently had your tail or paw trodden on (we all know how to engineer this so I shan't elaborate here).

2. If your people are particularly tired, or ill - they will especially want you to be quiet (but beware - for this to succeed you may first have to establish the preconceived knowledge that if you're shut out, you will become noisier and indefinitely more problematic).

3. By the same token, if there is someone sleeping in the territory, especially a small person. Show your people that something tasty will soon quiet you.

4. If they've left you alone all day, or even better gone away for an extended period without you. This can be capitalised on for some time.

5. If one of your providers has been absent and is unaware that you've already dined.

6. If you've been in a fluff racket with a neighbouring cat.

7. If you've been tricked into being operated on.

And always remember that if you don't achieve a meal, you may be just nagging enough to win a saucer of milk or similar for your skills, which I would also argue is well worth the effort.