Monday, September 04, 2006

Cat Wailing and Insomnia...

This is a bit of a naff post.

You may have guessed, from reading this blog, that Kate and I love our cats. We do. We do love our cats.

I just wish that sometimes they weren't quite so quirky as to draw attention to themselves. For instance, at 4:27am this morning, Mischa was meowing her head off outside and I heard the neighbour calling, "here, puss, puss, puss" out her windows. As if Madame Mischa is some stray in pain who needs rescuing.

But that's exactly how she sounded.

I recognised the tone of the meowing. It was her "I've Caught A Thing" song. The past few months, every time she has caught 'a thing', she has sung about it outside, often while crunching the 'thing'. Sometimes she brings whatever it is indoors and continues singing inside (preferred because it won't disturb the neighbours), with the occasional growl thrown in when one of the others approach. The "I've Caught A Thing" song is very distinctive and sounds like no other meow she emits. Nope. It sounded like she was in an incredible amount of pain and needed rescuing.

Mortified, I rushed downstairs in my nightie and barefeet and went outside. In a stage whisper, I said: "Mischa! You silly girl - the window is open!" I knew the neighbours were listening - the lights were on next door. I didn't want them to think I am a bad kitty-mommy who locks her children outside. The window was indeed open! I also didn't want them to think that Mischa is neglected, in pain and needs rescuing.

Mischa was in the neighbour's garden, singing happily away and crunching her mouse. She looked at me with big wide eyes that said, "I've caught a thing, mummy. I've caught a thing. Look! I am eating my thing." Gilbert poked his head round the door and had no doubt seen me in my short nightie, attempting to coax Mischa into the house. Oh dear. The neighbour has seen me in my bedroom attire.

"Mischa, you have to go inside. Now. Please?" Mischa didn't care. She wasn't embarrassed. I picked her up and took her indoors. She hates being picked up. I was scratched to buggery.

With Mischa settled, I went back upstairs and climbed back into bed. It was 4:43am. I could not get back to sleep. At 5:30am I decided that if I wasn't asleep by 6am, I would get up. I must have dropped off after that because I was woken up by the alarm at 7am.
And all that for Madame Mischa.


  1. Hello.I'm a Chinese girl.I'll be 18 next month.And I like your blog,it'g clean and beautiful.
    It's my new blog on Blogger,but I afraid that you won't recognise Chinese characters。 I'm very glad to communicate with a Britain online,that will be my fun.And I wish it be yours,too.

  2. I don't think this is a naff post at all -- quite the contrary (but then, I am a cat lady... or shall I say cat woman? Yes, that sounds less sad and sexier, doesn't it?).

    Anyway, regards to the lovely Mischa and hope your shredded arms recover soon!

  3. Course it's not naff. It's funny. But perhaps only to those who know and love cats. Very good post, I thought.

  4. * and Red: I thought it was a bit naff because it was just about cats, which I know isn't everyone's bag.

    * - I am laughing about it now too, but I wasn't at 4:30 this morning!

  5. hehe. Cats, the weirder they are, the more we love them. Why is that?

  6. Hi Tanya,

    You described my cat, Benjiman perfectly.
    Only he usually drops the "thing" he caught on my pillow.
    They do make good story material.

  7. Tanya, this is hysterical!
    Cyan brings flowers as gifts thankfully, not for lack of trying for the live 'things' though, the fallen blooms are all she has talent for - not very feline, but I am a grateful mom.

  8. Kat: Because they show us their personalities. Also, they have entertainment value.

    Healing Room: On your Pillow? Thank goodness mine haven't thought of that trick yet.

    Shade of Red: I WISH mine brought me flowers!

  9. Aw! I just recently got two kitties for our family :) I got them for my three year old daughter.. but more so for me since i will be the mamma. And because a three year old can be very loud. Suffice to say my arm looks like it has been through a blender.