|
|
|
|
|
Contents:
Pish and Tush were from the same litter and were picked out many years ago by my wife and my mother [well, actually, Pish chose my mother]. They were too young to be collected then, so a few weeks later I went to pick them up. I paid for the kittens, and was given a cardboard box with two kittens in it, took it to the car, put it on the back seat and started for home.
There were some strange noises from the back as two kittens fought their way out of the cardboard box. Eventually they managed it and started to search the car. Soon they discovered me, so they clambered up onto my left shoulder.
Now there was a fight to decide whose shoulder it was. Eventually that settled down, and there I was driving along with two kittens purring in my left ear and standing on my left shoulder.
CRASH!
So I go runing into the dining room. There is an old-fashioned desk to my left, and an old sideboard to my right. At the far end of the desk there is a telephone - usually. Now it is lying on the floor.
At the near end of the desk, maybe five feet away from where the phone is normally, there is Tush. Studiously unconcerned, he is sitting with his back to the phone.
On the sideboard, the same distance away from the phone, Pish is looking bored. He also has his back to the phone.
"OK," I snarl, "who did it?" Both cats look at me innocently, yawn, and wander off. So what do I do?
So there I was at my parent's house some years back. I was in the garden as was one of our cats, Tush RB. He was wandering around on the edge of a pond. "Is that safe?" asked my father, "the edge is a bit ..."
"SPLOSH!!!!"
This thing appears. Black, and evil smelling, and looking like a small black thundercloud, it appeared out of the pond like the Loch Ness monster having seen a sheep. It walked purposefully towards me.
I moved smartly out of the way, and the thundercloud passed, and stalked into the house to confront my wife and my mother. You wouldn't catch me going anywhere near a seriously wet/annoyed cat!
We used to have a Siamese called Pish RB, Tush's brother. He used to fetch pipe-cleaners. One day, some of my wife's family came to stay, a sort of sub-family: Father, Mother and kiddies [yuk]. The mother and kiddies liked the idea of a cat, but Father did not like cats. We told them about the pipe-cleaners. Father was not impressed. "Try" we said.
So he took a pipe-cleaner and threw it, then looked at Pish. Pish looked at him. They glared at each other for a time, then Pish ambled very slowly over to the pipe-cleaner, picked it up, brought it back, and put it down - just out of Father's reach. Father said "Bring it here", and Pish just looked at him. Finally Father reached across and picked up the pipe-cleaner, and threw it. Pish and Father looked at each other with complete disdain for a time, then Pish went and fetched it, brought it back, and put it down just out of Father's reach. Father was not pleased.
The family was here for the weekend. Father tried to train Pish to bring it back right to him: Pish trained Father to reach out to get it. Eventually Father agreed that they might try getting a cat. Unfortunately, a few months later Father legged it to South America with a young blonde, and apart from sending a telegram asking for more money, has not been heard of again.
Tush RB was wandering up our garden when this tiny bird imitated a Stuka at him: diving out of the sky, pulling up at the last moment, clearing his head by inches, and then going round and doing it again.
The cat was terrified, the human kibitzers were trying not to laugh. Eventually the cat retreated into the house, and the bird went back to the tiny baby bird that had been further up the garden than the cat. He had never seen the baby bird [we would have known from his reaction] and had no idea why he was being dive-bombed. Poor Tush!
Editor's note:
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
| Story menu |
List of Contents |
Main index |
Top of article |
Local menu |
Next article |