Novelty Cat enjoying a butterfly-inspired leap. Note the double chin.Before I embark on this cat-related post, I'd like to establish a couple of facts:
- I have never been particularly feline-fussed.
- I have no intentions to turn this into a blog solely tracking the activities of an animal, or,
worse, pretend the aforementioned animal is writing the blog itself.
Ok, right, I will now explain the novelty cat thing. We're a non-pet family. We don't murder animals or anything, we're not even particularly averse to them, it just never got further than hamsters.
As a result, I seem to have developed an innate repellent of animals, mainly feline, much against my own will. I don't like seeing my friend's cat literally scream and run out of the room when I enter, nor the public humiliation of going to stroke a cat in the street and see it scampering away, terrified.
Bro has wierdly escaped the familly anti-cat repellent, to the extent he actually owns one. So, having no-one to look after this fluffy little creature, Novelty Cat came up with bro over the weekend. Having not been cat-trained from an early age, my reactions to cats are unsurprisingly toddler-esque. You know, screaming/giggling maniacally, clapping, hand-flapping, trying to catch it, stroke it, lift up its paws...it really isn't all that mysterious why they hate me now, actually.
Once I'd calmed myself down, my eyes were opened to the catty wonder. No longer those grumpy, sullen creatures who only pretend to love you for food, they have become pieces of fluffy cuteness who perform all kinds of human-entertaining tricks. Like this little number above - a mid-air clapping motion at something fairly undesirable, like string; or frenetic chasing of a bit of cardboard under newspaper. Amazing.
Plus they're really cute - Novelty Cat in particular as she has pretty stripes and her legs are disproportionately short and she makes herself a double chin when looking at stuff.
I am officially in a state of NCP - Novely Cat Pining. I want her back. I want her to love me. I want to poke her double chin...still not got rid of the inner three-year old.
The only true anarchist, the cat. My Mum might as well be part-feline herself, filling our home with no less than 4 cats at any one time, replacing them as they died with all the baffling enthusiasm of a work placement kid in Tescos. Nice to see one of the Courier's finest blogging - or 'blerging' as they'd say where I come from. All you need to do now is start going on and on and on about it on facebook and you'll soon be irritating as many people as me. Can't wait for our penultimate Tuesday lay up! xxx
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