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My Christmas Cat

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LynnSlyWrites

When Lynn is not writing, she is kept busy caring for her family and their pets. "Hillary’s Angel" is her first novel and "Upside Down" her second.

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Wrote this one for you:

Winston
Deck the halls with boughs of catnip (falalalala la lalala)
I will cry if that’s not ketchup (falalalala la lalala)
Cat food comes in fish or chicken (falalalala la lalala)
Rodent flavour’s not for picking (falalalala la lalala)

I believe that somewhere out there stands a Christmas tree decorated entirely with cat collars – bells, tags and all. Winston (named after Churchill) has been with us for exactly one month today. In that time he has lost three collars, slaughtered five birds, and eaten more than our last cat did in her life-time.

When I announced we were getting a cat, friends told me to forget about Christmas decorations (“Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, your ornaments are history”) but Winston shows not the slightest interest in anything so frivolous. In a way it is a pity, because tinsel is expendable. In fact I’ve actively encouraged his interest, investing in a can of catnip spray, but even that lends no lure to kitty toys of any kind. Winston is only interested in live bait. He is a killer cat.

De-worming has made no difference to Winston’s appetite. A month after leaving the SPCA he is as voracious as ever. I’m convinced that feeding him on a diet of chicken has given him an appetite for bird. If I was half the hunter that he is, I’d start a new line of cat food containing mouse or rat only. There is a plentiful free supply of rodent (Sky News says you can pick up 60 in exchange for a cheap cell phone in one SA township, and we live only a stone’s throw from a dairy farm). Rodent’s got to be as nutritious as fish or chicken, and just imagine how it would slash the price of cat food. The world so needs to engineer a feline preference for rat rather than robin.

On Friday I took Winston for his rabies and three-in-one booster injection. This is one tough cat: the vet couldn’t get the needle through the thick skin on Winston’s neck. I should have known. He took our household dogs in his stride. Even the ridgeback takes a detour when Winston is sprawled in a doorway. Strangely enough, the only thing that spooks him is human visitors. The minute the doorbell rings he’s out the window and doesn’t return until they’re well and truly gone. Except for my neighbour who kindly brought Winston a bouquet of catnip as a house-warming gift – he tolerated that visitor, from a distance. He is obviously a “one person” cat and, for better or worse, that person is me. I can do no wrong, because I provide the food.
Winston in case
So I’ve decided: No more “quick release” collars for Winston. In desperation I dug out one of the old-fashioned kind, and he has not managed to lose that or any of its three heavy duty bells yet. Perhaps we should change his name to Hell’s Bells, because it makes for such a rude awakening in the early hours when Winston leaps through the window onto the bed (jinglejanglejingleTHUNK). But I don’t care: we’ve had no corpses in the kitchen for at least ten days [falalalala la lalala].

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6 Comments

  1. thisbear says:

    Smart cat, being suspicious of humans. I found that my killer cat, The Motel (pron. The Mottle), was not deterred by a collar and a bell. She learnt to move with such stealth and to remain stationary until the final pounce when her momentum would be faster than the bird’s little brain registering either the motion of the bounding cat or the ringing of the bell. The only time I saw her stumped by a bird was when she cornered a francolin in the house – the bird was simply not prepared to be a victim.

    On the other hand, it seems as though you’ve come across a brilliant business idea – processing rats into kibble?

  2. David says:

    A handsome boy. It would be safe to say he’s taken over your house.
    =^..^=

  3. Suddenly Jamie (@suddenlyjamie) says:

    Cats. They know how to live by their own rules. Our house is completely ruled by the two we adopted early last summer – the kitten, Cinder (now nearly a year old) and her mama, Bella. It took me about twenty-four hours to become a crazy cat lady and now they are so spoiled that it’s embarrassing.

    Your Winston is a very handsome boy (even with bird breath) and looks SO happy. He’s lucky to have you and you’re lucky to have him. I look forward to hearing about more adventures!
    🙂

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