Do you ever own a cat or are you merely working in its service? I live with a cat – Huey. He’s not my cat, he belongs to my youngest daughter who is currently residing in a share house with a few of her friends, one of whom is allegedly allergic to cats.
Let’s get the harsh reality out of the way first. Cats are natural-born killers and Huey’s killing opportunities are now limited to geckos, moths and hair-ties after our move from the suburbs and into an apartment.
After largely ignoring me for the first 2 years of his life, it appears Huey has grudgingly come to tolerate me, particularly at his meal times. Huey does have a few redeeming character traits. We both enjoy watching a bit of road cycling on the TV, and as the photos show he’s also pretty good at ride planning and preparation.
Unfortunately Huey’s also excellent at foot chewing in the early hours of the morning (I do mean early, like 3:00 am early) particularly if he feels that his food bowl needs attention. He’s like a little feline alarm clock operating on his own timeline. If he’s hungry, I should get up and feed him.
I’m not really a cat person, but Huey has grown on me. He’s occasionally good company and a perfect excuse for me to leave almost anywhere early – “Sorry, I’ve got to get home and feed the cat.” He’s surprisingly low maintenance most of the time. He’s a cat of few words, but when he says something it’s best to listen. He’d happily sleep under the sofa all day and is nowhere to be seen if we have house guests.
I guess we’re quite similar – maybe that’s why I like him…
