Saturday, 8 November 2014

Misty's diary: into every life a little rain must fall. But why at every door?

Another entry from Misty’s diary. In which he makes clear that he has no intention of being mocked, and will take action to prevent it.

November 2014

He's got a real cheek, has domestic number 2.

He keeps making what he thinks are smart comments at my expense. Smartarse comments, more like.

Maybe he thinks I don’t understand them. Maybe he realises I do and thinks this is a clever way of getting back at me for my judicious use of claw and tooth on him. Unwise, if that’s the case. I still have my teeth and claws, and I keep them in good order.

His latest wheeze started when the weather turned rainy. He thinks it terribly funny that I don’t like to go out when it’s chucking it down. Well, who would? He doesn’t. He grumbles about it all the time. And he’s got jackets and umbrellas to protect him. All I have is fur and let me tell you, when it gets wet it stays wet a long time.

Why, both domestics comment on it.

“Oh, poor Misty,” they say, stroking my damp back, “are you all wet?”

Yeah. Right. Duh. I’ve just been outside in the rain. Can’t hide anything from observers as acute as you guys.

That isn’t what makes Domestic 2 laugh though. He watches me get half out of the cat flap on the kitchen door and then come back in. He thinks that’s quite amusing. I suppose he thinks I’m undignified, wriggling backside first into the house.

But what really tickles him is when I ask him to let me out of the front instead.

“What?” he says, “you think conditions might be different there? That it might be raining at the back but fine, warm mousing weather at the front?”

OK, cut out the smartarse remarks
Just open the door. The weather might be nicer here

Oh wow, he thinks that’s so funny. He’s just so caustic. So bloody superior.

But I ask you? How can he actually know the weather’s going to be the same at both doors? I mean, until he’s looked?

OK, sure, it always has been. I admit that. But who’s to say it always will be? And wouldn’t we look stupid if we missed out, on the one occasion it was just glorious at the front, though it was chucking it down in the back garden?

In the meantime, let me make one thing clear.

I don’t appreciate being dissed, OK?

Now I’m going back to sharpening my claws. And making sure the teeth are filed and ready for action just as soon as I need them.

Winsome? Don't be fooled.
Just taking a break from keeping teeth and claws sharp

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