My daughter has a new four legged friend who is delightful and lively, but also another obstacle for me to contend with. `She is a tricolour calico cat called Milly – after millionaire’s short bread (this family loves food). She is basically a white, icing coloured cat, with bits of shortbread colour sticking out between pouring’s of caramel and chocolate. She sounds edible and we sometimes wish we could ‘eat her up ‘(don’t worry, just figurative), but I have to be alert that I don’t sit on her or kick her as she dashes about in true curious cat style.
The other day I came to sit in my chair, close up to the TV. There was a blanket on the seat and as I began to sit, my husband sat up quickly and began to shout out a stream of nonsensical words. I got such a fright that I jumped up as he ended his outburst with the word “cat”. I thought he had been struck by the power of God and was speaking in tongues. It was a good laugh for us but a close call for the curled up ball of hair that was oblivious to the near death experience!
As I went to make the bed this morning, she lay camouflaged in the crumpled blanket. I threw the pillows off the bed and began to rip the covers back. It was only when she hauled her sleepy head up and languidly stretched out her leg that I caught a glimpse of her white underside. She had no idea how close she came to being a projectile heat –squeaking missile.
Any way, it was a lovely excuse to leave the bed unmade. … I chose to apply the sleeping dog idiom.
I have an inkling that this warm, oh- so- innocent creature is deliberately and subversively usurping our authority and making us enjoy her scheme., but I do not think she has considered that the normal ‘cat sat on the mat’ is realistically ‘that ma might sit on the cat ‘.
That would be a-mews-ing!?