A Dirty Cat

My sister and I like to play outside on the balcony, next to where the humans have their bed. Sometimes we go there in the morning and lie in the sunshine. Sometimes we chase each other around. Sometimes we roll in the dust. When we're feeling brave we jump to the neighbour's roof and run around there, and roll in their dust and dirt too.

At least, I roll a lot. I like feeling the dust on my skin. Joan doesn't do so much rolling. She watches me, slightly puzzled. Then when I get up she jumps at me, and we run around some more.

Usually the dust blows away, or I wash it off. But a few days ago, I rolled somewhere different, and when I went inside the humans started making comments about me being very dirty. I was quite insulted at first. I licked myself a few times and I didn't taste dirty. But then I did notice a few spots on my side that weren't there earlier:

One of the humans said the back of my head was the worst place. She tried wiping me with a damp cloth. I quite liked it, but she said it didn't make any difference at all. They said that they hoped I would wash. What a thing to say! I wash regularly. I'm mostly white, and I have to keep my fur immaculate.

However, they did have a point. No matter how much I washed, I couldn't get rid of those grey spots. One of the humans said that perhaps we would have to wait for my fur to grow out. What a horrible thought! I don't want my fur to go away. Does this mean I'll turn into a furless animal like a human?? I hope not.

Today our original family were visiting, and one of them said that it was fine to use a bit of 'fairy liquid' on my fur. So the humans put a drop of something that smelled like flowers on a damp cloth, and rubbed it around... then they rubbed it with just water. It felt quite nice at first but I soon got bored. They said I looked wet:

Humans do make silly comments. Of course I was wet. They were the ones who made me wet. They even talked about it first!

However they did also say I looked cleaner. I think they're right.  

A heavy kitten

The humans like to discuss me at times. They talk about my sister, too, of course. But I'm the one they seem to mention more often. I suppose it's because I'm bigger and therefore better.

The comments sometimes verge on the personal, however. I don't mind when they say I'm handsome. I don't even mind when they say how good I am at washing. These are, after all, compliments.

I don't even mind, too much, when they tell me that my fur is lovely and soft, just like a cat's fur. After all, I am proud to be of the feline persuasion. The humans can't help it that they were made differently, and they're very useful as servants. However they have made comments that my fur used to be rough, like that of a dog.

When I was little, I thought it was rather nice that they compared me to a dog. Then I learned that we cats do not like dogs.

It was not a compliment.

But I am a generous cat. I forgave them.

One evening recently, they and the tall thin human Tim had been doing what they call 'playing a game'. This consists of putting lots of pieces of cardboard on the table, and carefully placing some tempting cat toys on it. Joan and I have tried to join in, but they get annoyed and dump us on the floor. So we are keeping our distance, at least for now. One day we will take our revenge...

After the game, one of the humans commented that I was as big as an adult cat. Joan, they claim, looks like a big kitten. However, they said, I have grown much faster. That was a revelation to me! Up to that point, I had assumed that everything around me was getting smaller, including my sister.

Eventually they said they would fetch the kitchen scales. Then they picked me up and placed me in a bowl. It was very strange. Usually they stop me going on the table, and don't like me being in any of the bowls.

So I sat up straight, and let them know that I was very happy to sit there:

They said I weighed four kilograms. They said that was nearly nine pounds. The weight of a good-sized baby. And apparently it's not far off the weight of an adult cat.

They also said that I was not supposed to be fully grown for another four or five months. So then they had a discussion about whether I was just experiencing an early teenage growth spurt, or whether I might be an enormous cat one day.

The conversation then became highly personal, as they said I eat a lot and might get too big for the cat flap. I don't know what I'm supposed to do about this. If the cat flap becomes too small (and I am still not convinced that it's me who is growing) then they will just have to make it bigger. Isn't that the kind of thing humans were put here to do?

Outside again

We were beginning to think our outside expeditions were finished - at least, until we work out how to jump down from the washing machine balcony. I keep looking and trying to judge the distance, but I don't want to get stuck somewhere. Not now I'm bigger and cleverer than I used to be.

But a couple of days ago, the humans said that perhaps it was time we did a bit more exploring. So they let us out.

Freedom!

We raced down the stairs and over the street, where there were lots of interesting toys and smells. The female human said she felt too nervous to watch so she went back up and into the house, but the male one sat on a chair outside their downstairs apartment, and sipped that hot brown stuff he calls 'coffee'.

I was a bit worried that he might come and fetch me, but hiding under a car was a bit dull, so I went inside the gate of the opposite house:

I could smell that this was a place for cats, but they were not familiar ones. I wasn't sure. Was this maybe not part of our domain? The very old cat Cleo was watching, trying to explain how far our boundaries stretch. We do listen to her, but she's getting on in years and she doesn't always understand what our generation wants. So I decided to ignore her for a while.

I came out and looked around at some of the other houses but they didn't seem as if they would be very friendly to cats.

Then I noticed that my sister Joan was being approached by a big cat. There were some older people in the territory where I had been exploring and they addressed this large cat as 'Caesar'. Caesar sniffed at Joan and then he hissed, making it very clear that this was his domain. I did think about going to protect her, but he was so big and I felt quite overwhelmed... and then she did the sensible thing. She backed away, letting him know that she was not challenging him.

She ran back over the street and up the stairs, into our own house. I decided to follow.

Then one of the humans said something very odd which made no sense to me, but which they seemed to find highly amusing:  'Joan of Arc challenged Caesar, watched by Alexander the Great and Cleopatra'.

Human bed

I already described the warm bed in the living room where Joan and I often snuggle up together, now it's getting cooler. Sometimes the sun shines on it and it feels so warm and cosy... but sometimes the sun goes away. I don't really like this system. With the lights in the house, the humans just press a switch to make them go off or on. But I'm pretty sure they don't have a switch for the sun. I wonder who does?

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago one of the humans stuffed a giant pillow, which she called a duvet, into a giant case, which was called a duvet cover. They are not very original with their names, but I suppose humans aren't very creative.  They don't even like it when we try to help with the sheets-and-duvet routine...

Still, the duvet greatly improved the bed... it became nice and squashy, a good place to go to sleep during the daytime.

Then there was quite an exciting development.

Since our first days here, the bedroom door has been closed at nighttime. The old cats could sleep in there, but not Joan and me. Sometimes they let us in for a few minutes, but as soon as we pounced on those moving things under the sheets, they yelped and insisted we leave the room. It seemed unfair, but we had the rest of the house to play in.

It finally dawned on me that maybe those lumps under the sheet were not small animals but hidden human feet. Which meant that perhaps it was not our duty to attack and destroy them.. but you never know. It was impossible to resist.

But after the duvet appeared. the humans had a conversation during which they said things like 'Alex is calmer' and 'Sophia would be happier'. And that night... the bedroom door stayed a little bit open! They were right that Sophia was happier. She hated being shut in, OR shut out, so she would complain loudly several times in the night until the humans got up and let her in. Or out Or in again. Joan and I used to wait outside, hoping we could dash under the bed, but we never succeeded.

Now we can sleep anywhere we want to at night. It's strange, though. The downstairs bed, even without the sunshine switched on, seems like the best place. So we still sleep there, as there's easy access to the kitchen for a quick snack.

Then, as it slowly begins to get lighter in the morning, we run up the stairs and jump on the human bed, and nuzzle into the humans until one of them gets up to give us some more food.