“Your sister said yes to a cat,” I say to MindReader with a big grin. He puts his bag down.
“Oh really? Did you text her again?”
(MindReader’s sister is our landlord, not our life coach).
“Er, yes,” I say, and MindReader rolls his eyes. There have been many, many texts on this subject, and many covenants made by me as to the condition of the house and said cat’s behaviour.
“Right,” MindReader says. “Cat it is then.”
What follows is a tense negotiation process as to when we get the cat. We finally agree on the first week of January, when we would have got our dog, subject to illness, death, earthquakes and other force majeure happenings. Illness is defined (Me: This does not include feigned mental illness known as “I don’t want to get a cat anymore”). Cat is defined (Me: Stuffed cats do not count), etc.
(Oh. Oh yes. We are not getting a dog anymore. We like holidays too much. And I am frequently out of the house for 15 hour stretches. The lead walking, it taught me a lesson. Not least that I am crazy because I am still doing it).
“So we need to talk about some things,” I say to MindReader, later, as I hang some socks up.
“Let’s just get a cat in January,” he says, patting my arm and picking his coffee up off the stairs.
“Wet food or dry food? What kind of name? What gender? What age? Rescue or private seller? House cat or outside cat?”
“Oh god,” MindReader says. “Have you looked up cats on the internet?”
“Of course.” I try to spread a duvet cover out onto the bannister and MindReader takes over for me. “No one as nice as Mr Peasbody and Mr Dinsdale though.”
Mr Peasbody and Mr Dinsdale were two cats that came up for re-homing near to us about a month ago. It is a source of bitterness between us that I did not get them.
“Cat,” MindReader says. “Not cats.”
“There is one on the internet in Bromsgrove called Manders,” I say. “But he likes his own company, and I don’t like my own company.”
“What?”
“I don’t want an aloof cat. I just want a cat who will sit on my chest all day every day.”
“You have a job!” MindReader says with an indulgent smile.
“Okay, every non-work day.”
“Anything else?”
“There is one called Mrs Betty -”
“Why do all these cats have titles? Our cat is not having a title.”
“It is. We’ll call it Captain.”
“Right.” MindReader picks up his coffee again.
“Anyway, Mrs Betty and her children were abandoned on a river bank. Oh my God. It’s like the War, but with cats.”
“Never say that again.”
“Anyway, we’re not having her children. I’m not ready for kids,” I say with a shrug.
“Kittens. Not children. Anyway – girl cats are better.”
“No. Boys are fine if they’re neutered. And they’re more affectionate. And we can get a ginger one as we will need to be prepared.”
“Prepared?” MindReader says with a weary sigh.
“I think if we have offspring they might be ginger,” I say, gently, looking at his strawberry blond hair.
“Huh. True.”
“Anyway my favourite is Elton -”
“I’m opting out of this conversation”, MindReader says, walking down the stairs with his coffee. “No cat chat til January.”
my parents’ cat came from battersea with the name “Fudge”. this has now been extended to Colonel Fudgington. cats need titles.
haha amazing. Aslan became known as Gwyneth McCorkadale, for very long winded reasons, and Jessica, Dad’s part time boxer, is known as Jessica Tandy Venus WIlliams.
Hahaha! I loved reading this!
Thank you. I got a very excitable email from wordpress about you “liking my post enough to press the like button” and a big congratulations too, which was nice!?
So not Friday then? I have realised that when we do get a rabbit, we won’t be able to call it Ted because then there would be two of them!
I really hope the introduction between Friday and the cat goes well. I don’t want her to become anxious.
Boy cats are always easier to handle! Either way they have to be neutered, so… yeah. I vote boy cat! And I always wanted a ginger cat, so I’m jealous.
Love this post, btw. I wanted to yell LAWYERED like in How I Met Your Mother all the way through.
I had a lovely boy cat my entire childhood (he lived to 20), Aslan. Would love a ginger one or a tabby one. Aaahhh so excited!! Is cat ownership all it’s cracked up to be?!
Thanks! Never seen HIMYM though…
I used to work with a lady who had one of those pretend dog leads (one of these http://www.amazon.co.uk/Just-For-Fun-INVISIBLE-LEAD/dp/B001693XU8). She called her invisible dog ‘Spot the dog’. She was a little eccentric but was a bit of a local celebrity.
How about camambert for a cat name?
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