March 22nd, 2006

fat pony like thunder

a cat called ju ju

Imagine that you invited a homeless person to live in your house. You waited on her hand and foot, giving her meals, even opening and closing the door for her. You paid all of her medical expenses. Soon she felt at home in your house, comfortably chilling out on the couch. But was she grateful? Or even polite? No! She demanded her food very rudely. Then she started following you around the house shouting for food. She slept at the bottom of your bed, and sulked when you tried to move her. She sat on top of you when you were trying to watch the telly and wouldn't get off. She sat on the kitchen table and the counter, and if you tried to move her she attacked you with sharp blades. And hissed at you.

Well, you wouldn't put up with that sort of nonsense, would you? But that's how Ju Ju acts! She rules this house with an iron paw! We took her off the streets (well, animal refuge) into our sumptuous abode four years ago, and how does she repay us? Sitting on Patsington's open laptop and hissing like a reptile house when you try to get her off, that's how. At least, that's what she was doing yesterday evening. She also keeps sneaking into our room and plonking herself right in the middle of the bed, covering the lovely Cath Kidston duvet with her vile fluff. But we can't get her off, because if we try she (a) starts clawing at the lovely Cath Kidston duvet cover and (b) hisses at us. Seriously, she does whatever she wants around here. It's quite shameful, really. I think crazy cat ladies lavish such attention on their cats because they HAVE NO CHOICE.

That said, when she gets really bold we do pick her up and put her out in the back garden and don't let her in for a while. So maybe she doesn't rule us with an iron paw after all. Also, Patsington sat on her (BY MISTAKE!) the other night. She was lurking on our bed (as usual) and he went up for a nap after work and didn't notice her until he sat on her. I was a bit worried that she could have broken something, as Patsington is about 100 times her size (well, six foot two and about 15 stone), but luckily she is fine. He noticed her furry bulk before he'd quite sat down. Anyway, it serves her right for invading other people's beds in the manner of Goldilocks. I wish I could say that it would teach her a lesson but considering that her current favourite hobby is waiting until I'm having my lunch at one end of the kitchen table and then leaping up on the other end and advancing towards my plate, meaning that I have to stop eating, rush over and pick her up and put her out, I think the chances of her learning that doing X is a bad idea are somewhat slim.