Saturday, 22 August 2015

Misty's Diary: Call that a jump?

Misty and his diary again, talking about life with Luci, and jumping.

August 2015

Well, life’s certainly become less dull since Luci moved in with us. 

Not always in a good way. She likes to say “hello” to me pretty well every time she sees me. Thats fine, except that she’s clearly decided it’s important to establish some kind authority over me. So she does silly things like trying to pin me down with her forelegs, as though I couldn’t just throw her off with a shake of my shoulders.

Not that it’s as easy as it always was. With the amount of food the domestics keep giving her, it’s no surprise that she’s starting to put on a bit of weight. Still, that’s done no more than move her from the featherweight to lightweight category – no challenge to a fine figure of a cat like me.

A fine athletic figures of a cat
Even so, sometimes she needs a slightly harsher reminder of who’s in charge. Just the other day, I got the teeth out, not something I often do with her. Got her on the nose. Can’t really have hurt – I didn’t bite down properly and she has so much hair, even on her nose, that it’s hard to get at anything I could hurt if I tried. Still, she squealed, but that’s just her way.

And what’s even more her way is that she came back for more punishment. Crazy animal. What does she think’s going to happen if she keeps bugging me? Fortunately, I’ve got the domestics reasonably well trained: when number 2 saw what was going on, he shouted at Luci, “leave him in peace, Luci, come away.” And, when she’d gone trotting over to him, like the dutiful little creature she is, “you know you could end up getting hurt if you push him too hard.”

He’s certainly got that right.

Honestly, though, I can’t believe how he talks to her. And she takes it all to heart.

“He said to me the other day, ‘who’s a lovely little dog, then?’ Isn’t that good? Isn’t that good? Isn’t it, isn’t it?”

“Err… yes, it’s great, if that’s the kind of thing you like…”

“Well, think about it, just think about it, Misty. There aren’t any other dogs. He has to mean me, doesn’t he? It’s got to be me who’s lovely. Isn’t that good?

“Yeah, right, it’s fantastic. But… err… like you said… there aren’t any other dogs around, are there? So he’s not really got a whole lot to compare you with, has he?”

“No, no, but so what? It’s still good.”

“And did you hear him say, ‘who’s a crazy dog, then?'” 

 “A crazy dog? Do you think that’s me too? That can’t be right. Crazy’s not such a great thing to be, is it? Is it, Misty?”

“If the fur fits, wear it,” I told her, “now let me get back to sleep.”

But she wouldn’t. So I jumped the back gate, which she can’t, and went round to the front of the house and my bed of leaves which is great to lie on.

My bed of leaves
Warm, comfortable and out of Luci's reach
Jumping’s quite a thing, actually. The domestics are training her to jump. They’ve got this hoop that they hold up for her. It’s got to be about half her height off the ground. They hold half a pathetic little dog treat on the other side, and – surprise, surprise – she jumps through the hoop to get it.

And this is some kind of major achievement? You should hear them cooing about it. “Good girl! Well done! You’re really getting it.”

Look at me, Misty, look at me, she likes to cry, “I’m jumping! And so high!

So I jump up on the table and look down at her, vainly struggling to follow me.

“Very impressive,” I say, “Now come and join me up here.

“I can’t, I can’t, Misty,” she says, “but didn't I do a great jump?

In fact, I quite often show her how jumping’s really done. I leap up to get at my food. Now that’s three or four times her height. And the reward isn’t half a treat. It’s a bowlful of proper food. And, what’s more, it’s got this brilliant system which means whenever it gets close to empty, more flows in from above.

Now that’s what I call jumping. And that’s what I call a purpose for a jump.

You should see her face. At the bottom. Looking up pathetically. So funny.

No comments: