We are ladylike cats, Millie and I. The boys are just hooligans, splashing water about, dipping their paws in the bowls, leaving a lake of spillage behind them.
Of course, we’d really prefer crystal glasses, but Rachel doesn’t seem to leave the crystal glasses unattended, just common or garden tumblers.
Rachel muttered something about hygiene when she spotted us sharing her water. Silly woman; we don’t mind her germs.
Mrs Danvers is a bit odd these days.
It all started with that big black dog that came to our house a couple of times. Mrs Danvers didn’t seem to mind it at all, in spite of the tongue, and the smell. I refused to go downstairs; I don’t intend to meet it, ever.
Then she got the old red bed out of storage, and put it in the kitchen. I tried it for size. Nice and roomy, but I thought it was a bit uncomfortable. Mrs Danvers said it was a good bed for damp dogs. That was puzzling. I’m a cat, and I’m never damp.
Tosca tried it too. She’s damp sometimes, but she didn’t like it either.
Mrs Danvers must have realised that she’d got it wrong, and that I expect some degree of luxury. She went out today and came back with another bed for me, to go upstairs.
Much much better! High sides, nice soft material, comfortable and warm, and a good colour for my beautiful orange fur.
I like this bed.
Mrs Danvers gave a funny little laugh when I settled down in it.
Like I say, she’s a bit odd.
What a dreadful day.
Rachel had made special biscuits. “We are having visitors” she said. “You won’t like them.”
How right she was. A lady with a dog.
Not just any dog – a HUGE one, with a tongue a mile long, just hanging out of its mouth like a wet baby blanket. So unnecessary; so vulgar, we thought.
We came down to look at it. Scooter came first, and after staring for a while (he said he couldn’t help himself – he’d never seen a tongue like it!) he came upstairs and told us to come and see for ourselves.
So we did. Cautiously.
Anything with a tongue that size could have teeth to match, we thought, and we were right.
So uncouth, those big gnashers!
That dog had no manners. It rolled on the carpet without a shred of dignity.
It took one of our toys without asking.
It chewed it! We can never play with it again – it has dog-drool on it!
We were glad to see the back of those visitors, we can tell you.
Afterwards, Rachel said we had behaved very well; no one swore, or scratched anyone else; no one threw up on the stairs. We set a good example.
We bet that dog didn’t notice.
I often bring Rachel a mouse.
I’ve seen her run about after them, if they’re still lively, that is, but that’s usually when she grabs me and throws me out of the room. Sometimes the dog and Scooter get thrown out too, and yesterday she chased Hamish, who got my mouse first and was growling over it on the stairs, and made him drop it.
But I’m not sure what she does with all those mice. I’ve never seen her eat one.