Category: Cat

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 91

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…

20161008_135125_001

This is Chester.

We’re having an interesting time in the quest for self-isolation.

It seems he doesn’t like the idea that we are still going out, and coming back, potentially bringing the virus back.

This, of course, despite the fact that there are no confirmed cases of the virus attacking cats.

That doesn’t mean that Chester might be the first cat that does.

Out of curiosity, and perhaps against my better judgment, I have to ask what his reasoning is.

Old age, he says.  If you are telling me the truth then I’m about 18 cat years old, which means it’s about 126 of your years.

I can see where this is going.  It’s my fault because I’ve left the running count of Coronavirus patients worldwide on one of my computer screens.

As of this morning, there are 393,000 cases worldwide.  He was sitting next to me when I  was looking at the statistical data on the various ages and pre-existing conditions.

For him, apparently, there was only one statistic that mattered.  Anyone over 90 in human years had little chance of surviving.

I reiterate the virus doesn’t attack cats.

I also tell him that I have no intention of getting the virus.  But it raises a point I hadn’t considered.

Going out anywhere always has a risk, whether to the supermarket or the pharmacy which are basically the only places I go.  Then there is the situation of my wife, who is still working and has to go to work.  That is a bigger risk considering one of the staff will be coming back from overseas.

How successful the self-isolation rule is, and whether everyone complies, is a matter of conjecture, and one has to wonder if 14 days in isolation is long enough.

Chester has raised a legitimate point, not necessarily in relation to himself.

Perhaps he might be worried about us.

And if that is the case, will the specter of this virus finally become the catalyst for a change in the relationship between cats and people, where they might realize we are more important to them than they currently believe.

Let’s see what happens.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 89

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…

20160921_071506

This is Chester.  We have been discussing the possibility of being stuck in the house for anything from 14 days to 10 months.

Yes, the Coronavirus is finally arriving in Australia, and though it is slow to catch on, we are being warned that it could get a lot worse, very quickly.

Chester has suggested we barricade the doors and windows.

Alas, I tell him, this is not the same as the American cowboys fending off an Indian attack.  No circling the wagons, and definitely no John Wayne to ride in and save the day.

Too many westerns on Fox.  I keep forgetting Chester has mastered the art of turning the TV on and changing channels on the Foxtel remote.

I also tell him that the virus is not only airborne, spread by those who cough or sneeze, but also by touch, like shaking hands, and hugging.

At that, Chester takes a good three, four steps back away from me.  So, he challenges me, what are the options.

Well, firstly cats may not get the virus.  Only one dog, as far as I know, had got it.  You, I tell him, do not need to worry.

As for the humans, well, we are in trouble if it comes.

We will be staying in, in some sort of forced quarantine, trying to avoid the rest of the world until it goes away,

So, he says, that means you have enough cat food and litter, the proper one?

I shake my head like he does when he’s annoyed.

Well, if it happens, I’m sure we’ll find out.  Besides, I add, you need to lose a kilo or two.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 90

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…

20160922_161958_001

This is Chester.

He’s not looking forward to being in quarantine.

Yes, he’s been keeping up with the latest developments regarding the Coronavirus, but like many, he doesn’t seem to think it will affect him.

After all, he says smugly, there hadn’t been one recorded instance of a cat getting the Coronavirus.

Of course, he’s right, but I still search for a searing reply.

That may be, but what if they’re not reporting cat infections so as not to alarm the cat population?

Aha, got him with that one.  He ponders that for a moment or two.  I decided to add fuel to the fire.

Apparently, dogs can contract the virus, but after reporting one, there hadn’t been any more.  What if they’re not telling anyone that more dogs have contracted the virus so owners and pets don’t get alarmed.

A reply quick as a flash, Dogs get everything that’s going around.  We cats are more resilient.

Until you get cat flu.  Yes, my nana’s cat got cat flu and it killed him in 2 days.  This virus is a much deadlier form of flu.

A suitable look of concern crossed his face.

Maybe I’ll stay indoors for the duration.  It’s not as if you’re going to let me roam the streets any time soon.

Maybe I will, I say.  Perhaps it is time I started letting you out from time to time.

A shake of the head.

We’ll revisit this when the crisis has passed, he says getting up and walking off, tail flicking in annoyance.

One to me, none to him.  Yes!!!

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 88

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…

20160909_062838-2

This is Chester.  He had reminded me that it is Dr. Seuss’s birthday

Or perhaps that of the Cat in the Hat.

Chester told me once he auditioned for the role of Cat in the Hat, but he couldn’t get the hat to sit right.

A stitch-up, really, he added.  There was this fat cat, and he told everyone the role was his.

Period.

So, I had to ask, did he get the role?

No.  You’ve seen the Cat in the Hat, haven’t you?  Nothing like him.

So, other than trying to intimidate the competition, what was so scary about him?

Oh, I wasn’t scared or anything like that.  I just didn’t want to make a scene in front of the ladies.

I take a minute, trying to equate the cat in front of me, and that of the Cat in the Hat.

No resemblance at all.

And as for the scaredy-cat part, I decide not to remind him of his all-conquering fear of the grandchildren.

I’ll just wait until the next time they visit…

In less than two hours.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 89

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…

20160921_071506

This is Chester.  We have been discussing the possibility of being stuck in the house for anything from 14 days to 10 months.

Yes, the Coronavirus is finally arriving in Australia, and though it is slow to catch on, we are being warned that it could get a lot worse, very quickly.

Chester has suggested we barricade the doors and windows.

Alas, I tell him, this is not the same as the American cowboys fending off an Indian attack.  No circling the wagons, and definitely no John Wayne to ride in and save the day.

Too many westerns on Fox.  I keep forgetting Chester has mastered the art of turning the TV on and changing channels on the Foxtel remote.

I also tell him that the virus is not only airborne, spread by those who cough or sneeze, but also by touch, like shaking hands, and hugging.

At that, Chester takes a good three, four steps back away from me.  So, he challenges me, what are the options.

Well, firstly cats may not get the virus.  Only one dog, as far as I know, had got it.  You, I tell him, do not need to worry.

As for the humans, well, we are in trouble if it comes.

We will be staying in, in some sort of forced quarantine, trying to avoid the rest of the world until it goes away,

So, he says, that means you have enough cat food and litter, the proper one?

I shake my head like he does when he’s annoyed.

Well, if it happens, I’m sure we’ll find out.  Besides, I add, you need to lose a kilo or two.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 87

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…

20160903_163858

This is Chester.  He was looking very benign before he left.

Now I can’t find him.

Anywhere.

He’s in none of the usual hiding spots.

He’s not hiding under any of the beds.

He’s not hiding in any of the cupboards.

I’m worried.

 

He’s planning something.  It might be my demise.  I’m still trying to figure out what he could gain from my death.  Not having to listen to me reading chapters of my books?

That, to him, might be a blessing.

I found a magazine on the floor open at an article entitled, ‘Ways to check if your spouse is trying to kill you’.

It’s got me doubly worried now.

I saw him on the kitchen bench near my coffee cup.

How hard could it be for him to dip his paw into some poison or other and then put it in my coffee cup?

That expressionless expression gives him away.

It’s what he’s not saying that’s telling me everything.

Behind that bland face, there’s the heart of a plotter, plotting something bigger than blowing up parliament by Guy Faulks.

I’m going to keep a very close eye on him.  Very, very close.

When I find where he’s hiding.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 88

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…

20160909_062838-2

This is Chester.  He had reminded me that it is Dr. Seuss’s birthday

Or perhaps that of the Cat in the Hat.

Chester told me once he auditioned for the role of Cat in the Hat, but he couldn’t get the hat to sit right.

A stitch-up, really, he added.  There was this fat cat, and he told everyone the role was his.

Period.

So, I had to ask, did he get the role?

No.  You’ve seen the Cat in the Hat, haven’t you?  Nothing like him.

So, other than trying to intimidate the competition, what was so scary about him?

Oh, I wasn’t scared or anything like that.  I just didn’t want to make a scene in front of the ladies.

I take a minute, trying to equate the cat in front of me, and that of the Cat in the Hat.

No resemblance at all.

And as for the scaredy-cat part, I decide not to remind him of his all-conquering fear of the grandchildren.

I’ll just wait until the next time they visit…

In less than two hours.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 86

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…

20160921_071452

This is Chester. He’s having a hard to trying to understand the notion of a day happening only once every four years.

I try to explain to him that it’s the fault of the Romans getting the calendar wrong.

He tosses that aside and mutters, Time is irrelevant.

How so? OK, I have to bite, because I’m sure I’m about to get a catlike pearl of wisdom.

It comes and it goes, and if it wasn’t for the fact there was night and day, you’d have absolutely no idea what time it is.

About to dismiss it as crazy, I stop to think about it.

And, damn him, he’s right.

Of course, one could argue semantics, and say if I was outside, I could approximate the time by the sun, or at night by the stars, but that’s a little beyond the cat’s imagination.

So, in a sense, you might be right, but I can usually guess what the time is.

Chester shakes his head.

You’re retired, time is irrelevant for you too. You can sleep all day and work at night if you want to. Or not do anything at all.

Like you?

Another shake of the head.

What is the point in having a serious discussion with you?  But just one question before I go?

That’ll be interesting.

Was I born on the 29th of February?”

No. Not that lucky, I’m afraid. Why?

If I was I would have no reason to feel every one of those 18 human years I’ve had to put up with your nonsense. It would only be 4 and a half.

He jumps off the seat and heads out the door.

Where are you going now?

To bed. It’s been a long morning.

You’ve only been here 10 minutes.

In your time. In cat time, it feels like hours. Only call me if you see a mouse.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 85

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…

20151219_163915

This is Chester.  We’ve just got the news that our granddaughters’ dog had been taken to the vet.

It’s serious.

But it’s a dog, Chester mutters.  Perhaps I should get sick…

Don’t tell me you’re feeling unloved again.

He sits on my desk, again, giving me the steely-eyed look.

This is about the litter again, isn’t it?

We changed his litter for a cheaper brand.  For some reason, it’s getting more expensive to keep a cat, and the usual brand of litter jumped to nearly double what it was when we first bought it.

He just sticks his nose in the air and refuses to answer.

Well, I’m sorry, but we must economize.

Perhaps then you could use a cheaper brand of toilet paper.

OK, where did that come from?

Four-ply luxury while I get shredded paper.

He jumps off the desk and walks off, but not before saying, this isn’t over.

I can see this is going to be another test of wills.

And who is going to lose!

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 87

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…

20160903_163858

This is Chester.  He was looking very benign before he left.

Now I can’t find him.

Anywhere.

He’s in none of the usual hiding spots.

He’s not hiding under any of the beds.

He’s not hiding in any of the cupboards.

I’m worried.

 

He’s planning something.  It might be my demise.  I’m still trying to figure out what he could gain from my death.  Not having to listen to me reading chapters of my books?

That, to him, might be a blessing.

I found a magazine on the floor open at an article entitled, ‘Ways to check if your spouse is trying to kill you’.

It’s got me doubly worried now.

I saw him on the kitchen bench near my coffee cup.

How hard could it be for him to dip his paw into some poison or other and then put it in my coffee cup?

That expressionless expression gives him away.

It’s what he’s not saying that’s telling me everything.

Behind that bland face, there’s the heart of a plotter, plotting something bigger than blowing up parliament by Guy Faulks.

I’m going to keep a very close eye on him.  Very, very close.

When I find where he’s hiding.