As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.
Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.
For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1
These are the memories of our time together…
This is Chester. T for Tonkinese, capital T for trouble.
If you think you can win an argument with a Tonkinese you are sadly mistaken!
So, we got over the abandonment issues, and have moved onto the sleeping arrangements. There seems to be some misconceptions on Chester’s part.
He thinks the bed is his domain.
We have provided him with several very comfortable, warn, and inviting places about the house where is he quite welcome to sleep, or keep a watchful eye over his domain.
That’s right, I thought I owned the house.
He has his own bed in our room where he can stay when he feels lonely, but it seems he has to be near us.
When he’s not walking across the bed, and us, or ‘resting’ on our feet.
And if we move, you’d think we’d taken a big stick to him.
Come to think of it …
Just to show his displeasure at his bed, the blankets always seem to be on the floor, and when I ask what happened, it was, of course, Mr Nobody.
After I’ve picked them up six times in a day, I ask him what his last slave died of?
And there’s the Siamese coming out, a snarl, and then aloof dismissal.
There is banishment to the great outdoors, but that’s another story.