No pussies please...

Firstly, a fallen ceiling makes for plenty of cleaning... Not that itself is amazing but the amount of work I did was... And still more to come :-(

Anyway back to what I wanted to write about. I'm 100% a dog person and I've always held this suspicion about cats. I think they are evil and together with computers they will take over the world. Its only a matter of time and already there are signs:

I can't comprehend why a cat would eat at the table with proper utensils. They must be planning something truly diabolical for us. Perhaps this clip proves that ultimately we will be human-pets, owned by cats, starting from the weakest link onwards? All of us will soon be running around catching tuna and serving them on our best china and silver to these creatures. In that case, I feel for this lady. She will go down in history as the betrayer of the human race, succumbing to these wicked, wicked cats.

I think I was about 9 when I was introduced to the evils of the feline kind. Cats were already a part of my life as they wandered aimlessly around the neighbourhood, caterwauled in the mating season and worked for witches in story books I read. In fact I wrote one myself about Robert, the cat. At a cousins sleepover I caused absolute pandemonium, when I saw the shadow of a cat walking on the ledge of the bedroom window and matter-of-factly told my sister and cousins, 'Oh there's a witch nearby. I hope she isn't coming to get us.'

The one day, I tried to introduce a stray cat to my gentle, sweet natured Princess. There were screams (the cat), wails (the cat), scratching (the cat) and drawing of blood (mine). Since then, I stayed away from cats and they seemed to stay away from me. Or so it seemed. You see, when I was scratched, I was given a special power, for want of a better word. I became an anti-Catwoman, so to speak. Far from me developing cat-like prowess, I instead started giving off signals to cats of all manner to come and see if they can spook me.

It didn't become really obvious till I went away to uni. If there was cat on my dormitory floor, all the doors could be open but it would be my door it would come through and on my bed it would jump on. I remember having lunch in a cafeteria when I heard some cats fighting. I immediately stiffened, ready to make a run for it, when VainnValid tried to reassure me, saying, "They won't come here, they're at the other end of this place." The canteen was huge but I think she underestimated these four-legged-world-leaders. All the way from the corner they ran, ran, missing everyone and heading straight for me. Although I escaped unhurt, the fact they had been running around my legs was traumatizing enough.

Prince looked just like this.

There was only one cat I ever did love. My godmum sent me pictures all the way from Australia of her Prince, her baby, and stories about the naughty things he got up to. But he died before I ever visited them so I never really met him - just as well I suppose. I might have ended becoming his house-pet.