Everybody Wants To Be A Cat

11-06-2014 Wednesday

Mum wants to buy a cat. Has she lost her mind!? We’ve got a dog. A small one, but a dog nonetheless. What if they can’t stand each other? What if I’m allergic? What if the dog is allergic? Cats are aliens to me. I have no idea how to deal with them. They are from a totally different planet. Why would she want to have a cat anyways? Hairs! Hairs everywhere. I told Mum this was just a phase she was going through. ‘This, too, shall pass,’ I said to her. Dad tried to talk her out of it by saying he’d like a new car, too. I didn’t see how that was going to help our case, but Dad thought there was some kind of logic to it. Mum didn’t budge.
It’s not that I have anything against having a cat as a pet; it’s just that I don’t see why. There are two kinds of people in this world: dog lovers and all the others. I belong to the dog lovers and I see no reason for any cat to set foot in castle Didymus. I don’t think, however, that Dad and I have got any say in this. Mum is more or less in charge in this house, even though Dad thinks he is in charge and his only claim to fame is that he brings home the bacon. Mum’s reply to this is that she always does all the shopping and has never seen Dad come home with any bacon. Unless you count that one time he brought home a friend who looked like the male counterpart of Miss Piggy. He even sounded like her.
Mum asked me if I knew a good name for the cat. All I could come up with was,’ Sushi, Pizza, Anchovy, Pork Chop, and Salad. I even said that I could understand if she didn’t want to name the cat after food, that is why I also   She didn’t like the names at all and then turned to Dad. He said he’d like to give the cat an Amerindian name, like ‘Standing Bull’ or ‘Sitting Bear’. Mum said she’d come up with a name of her own. I think it would be best for her and the cat if she did. The cat might just get a decent name. As you will understand I named the dog.
So, if I you don’t hear from me all of a sudden, I may just have fled to another country or at least to another house. I heard Mr Bent’s got a spare bed, and I might just be needing it. Which reminds me that I have go round his place this week, because I haven’t heard or seen him for quite some time and I don’t want the newspapers to read something like,’ Dead Guy Found Rotting After 8 Weeks – Neighbours Never Noticed’.

See me tomorrow.