Sunday, September 04, 2011

The pwnographers

It was around April when a pregnant cat decided to hole up in the Crumbling Villa’s back garden behind the water tank. She appeared to be a healthy house-cat rather than one of the scraggy feral strays that are more commonplace. Beloved Wife is of the opinion that Mother Cat got herself thrown out after Getting Herself Into Trouble.

Three kittens duly appeared in the back garden, and we studiously ignored them, figuring that they’d be weaned and then they’d clear off. And indeed this is what Mother and one of her kittens did. The other two have been hanging around ever since. The garden is enclosed, quiet, and behind the water tank is very safe.

Beloved Wife, who is allergic to both cat fur and litter boxes, and therefore “can’t have house cats”, gave these two balls of fluff names.

A gem of wisdom from Monsters, inc.: “You're not supposed to name it. Once you name it, you start getting attached to it!”

And sure enough, we have both grown a little bit attached to Bouncer and Tux.

Beloved Wife has been completely pwned by the pair of them, especially Bouncer. “We’ll only feed them occasionally so they hang around until they can be caught and neutered” has become “They are so thin; they need food every day.” Now, “They’re outdoor cats” has mutated into “...but only in the kitchen, and then only under supervision.”

Bouncer has discovered the delights of air conditioning, and appears to be angling to become a domestic pet. Why not, with food, attention and balls of alumininium foil to play with? Even her much more timid brother Tux came in through the kitchen window last weekend. Little do they realise what’s in store.

The plan is to get both cats snipped, inoculated, de-wormed and released once they’re old enough. Dubai has no shortage of Felis catus domesticus and needs no additional supply. But this can’t happen for at least another month.

I suspect that there is another plan out there: to make oneself part of the household, and never again be hungry, thirsty, hot or cold.



Mme Cyn said...

Oh, thank you very much, Mr Goat, for exposing your Beloved Wife as the marshmallow softy she has tried so hard to conceal being.

Grumpy Goat said...

You say "marshmallow softy" as if it's a bad thing!

Gnomad said...

soft as a marshmallow, Mme Cyn? So you've toughened up recently then :)


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