Uncle Al-cat.
I
went to my mum’s this afternoon to visit her cat while she’s away, which ended up being a
nice mood-lifter after a pretty unproductive day.
It’s funny how the simple act of spending time with a pet can be good way to clear your
head and effectively press the reset button (go on: LAUGH). I left for the village where my
mum lives later than I’d intended, so was already stressed, but all it took was
half an hour’s cat-fuss (as opposed to cat-fuzz) to undo some of my frustration at not using the day as I’d intended; it didn’t go completely, but things certainly improved.
My mum’s cat is huge - he’s easily twice the length of my cat, though strangely has the same size head*, so I don’t know what’s going on there; perhaps he’s
part-liger - and stupidly friendly. It took a while for him to pluck up the courage
to sit next to me on the sofa (well, not so much pluck up courage as deem me acceptable to deign me with his presence) but once he did, he was a mass of purrs and head-butts. He occasionally does a little head-thrust that reminds me
of Buster Merryfield, but what pet doesn’t resemble an Only Fools and Horses
cast-member from time to time? My next-door neighbour’s chinchilla's the spit
of Denzil.
Chaser; DON'T MESS. |
* I practise cat craniometry.