Kittens, Mittens and Boots
We have a new cat.
Well, he has been around for a while and he’s not exactly ours. He belongs to a neighbour but I don’t think anyone has told him. He seems to think he’s ours.
I’m not even sure if it’s a him or a her but I’m not really into this kitten-sexing thing so I’ll just assume it’s a him. Unless of course he has been de-knackered in which case he’s an it. Or maybe cats have gotten caught up in this gendering crap and he’s a he who identifies as a she or vice versa. I’m not going down that road.
Anyhows this cat has adopted us in a casual sort of way. He made his first appearance a couple of weeks ago. I was sitting in with Herself while she watched television. It was dark outside but the blinds weren’t drawn. Suddenly there two eyes appeared floating above the window sill. It scared the shit out of Herself and I confess to suffering a what-the-fuck moment myself. You see, the cat is as black as a politician’s heart so we couldn’t see anything in the darkness apart from these two eyes which just stared at us, glowing softly in the night.
He has been around a lot since. I don’t mind. I don’t have to let him in or out so in my book he’s the perfect cat. He does have white paws incidentally. The two front paws are white at the foot so they look like mittens while the back paws are whiter up the leg looking like a pair of boots. I hear tell he is actually called Boots which is a remarkable coincidence?
Now Boots is a cocky little fucker. We have grown used to him staring in the bedroom window but he also seems to think he owns our French doors as well. He will often pad across the terrace and then just stand at the door staring in. He must be aware we have a dog and I get the distinct impression from his expression that he is flicking us the finger. He’ll stand there for a while before sauntering off.
Penny isn’t particularly impressed. She’s not one to go wild or frantic at the sight of a cat and is rather blasé on the subject, so she just feigns total indifference and pretends to go back to sleep.
Penny and I concocted a plan. We decided the cat needed training, and anyway Penny needs exercise. So as soon as Boots has wandered off the doorstep I release Penny.
The training is going very well. Boots can now do nought to sixty in a couple of milliseconds and I swear he neared the speed of sound on a few occasions. The most impressive achievement though is in the vertical. I have seen that cat clear a six foot hedge without touching a leaf and on one occasion he managed to climb a sheer ten foot concrete wall. He is really fucking impressive.
I should have entered Boots for Cheltenham.
But there’s still the Grand National?
You may own a dog, but a Cat owns YOU…
I think you will find he thinks you are his.