My so called life

It being Saturday means that The Girl has to be escorted to yet another of her f***king parties (that child has a better social life than Paris Hilton) and The Boy is planning to go to Kingston to “buy some doughnuts”. And speaking of better social lives, I had a phone call from a neighbour telling me that “Charlie and Lola visit quite a lot and Lola left her collar behind”. Lola is my recently spayed and sulky cat. I went round to see my neighbour. “Oh yes” he said – “Charlie and Lola pop in quite a lot. Lola grabs some biscuits, hisses at Charlie and rushes out, and Charlie just sits in a patch of sunlight. They’re quite friendly with our two.” These are cats we’re talking about. I also learned that Lola has been “waggling her arse at the male cats”. The little slapper. We clearly got her spayed just in time. I also discovered that the black and white one who I named Mrs Robinson on account of her advanced years and the fact that our male cat Charlie seems to quite fancy her, is in fact a male cat called Freddie. Shows you how much I know about cats. Come to think of it, does this mean that Charlie is a metrosexual cat? Gay? Or just deeply dim? I fear it is the latter. Whenever I put him out of the kitchen to stop him eating Lola’s food as well as his own, he just sits, staring in the wrong direction, for a minute before realising he is no longer in the kitchen.

The Husband and I have no social life at the moment but our children and pets obviously do so that’s all right. Oh and five minutes ago I asked The Boy to help me with some housework. “I just flushed the toilet!” he shouted with the wounded air of one who had just vacuumed the house from top to bottom.

4 thoughts on “My so called life

  1. I got back from the vet with my male kitten on Friday. Turns out it’s a female (the vet got it wrong the first time), with a heart murmur and learning difficulties (“not the brightest cat in the world” as the vet phrased it).


  2. Jane – I don’t know if this is too rude to mention on a blog but…two years ago I promised the children I would allow Muffin (the cat) one litter of kittens before her trip to the vets. The only male in the area was a pure white tom called Snowy and he and Muffin duly set about their business trying to make babies. Muffin would waggle her backside in that inimitable way that female cats do and Snowy would do his best to satisfy her. In fact we all got so used to their goings-on we would all calmly step over them on the way to school and work while they were locked in an ’embrace’. This went on for months and months because a) there were no other toms in the area andb) Snowy was firing blanks; he’d had his trip to the vets years ago.Finally, a visiting tom tracked Muffin down, she had her kittens and Snowy went back to sleeping under a bush.


  3. Donnie – a smart cat is not necessarily a good thing. But I’ve never heard of a transexual one. Helen – that is a fabulous story. I had no idea that once the boy bits were removed, the cat would still be interested in shagging! Poor Snowy – forced to perform for your Muffin. Kit – I’ve always loved the idea of keeping fish – a proper Bond villain aquarium. Just to torment the cats for one thing . . .


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