I was going to discuss politics and religion in this post, until I remembered (1) a promise I made to myself at Yom Kippur not to get embroiled in such discussions any more, as they only seem to cause anxiety and distress, and (2) the tradition some of us used to have when we were on the Nature Network, in which someone posted a picture of one of their pets if the comments started to get nasty – a case of kittehs, if not stem cells, to the rescue. All this is by way of reporting my plan, notwithstanding inasmuch as which, to pre-empt such comments, and even the rest of this post, by posting the following:
Deceptively cute kitteh, recently
Meet Emma, the most recent member of the Maison des Girrafes, who is also known as the SPOS (Seriously Pissed-Off Siamese) and thereby hangs a
Emma had been owned by a friend of a friend of our friend Ms J. G. of Norwich – the owner was terminally ill in a hospice, and all that was keeping her from a much-desired release was the wish that Emma was found a good home. Emma had been languishing in a cattery for some time and was becoming somewhat institutionalised. Ms J. G., knowing that there is always room for one more at the Maison des Girrafes, prevailed upon Mrs Crox’s good nature, and Mrs Crox prevailed upon my good nature after reassuring me that the SPOS came with a Full Service History, unlike some of the other residents, whose lack of history has occasioned my spending £££ at the vet.
A resident, more recently. Only this morning at breakfast, in fact. No, you can’t have my muesli. Oh all right, you can lick the bowl.
Emma arrived at the Maison des Girrafes, and her owner died the next day.
Not that Emma is at all grateful. She took a whole afternoon for me to subdue to the extent that I could trim her very extremely sharp claws – a necessary precaution, as she is a fireball of hissy fits and general ill-temper. One is permitted into her presence only to pat her on the head once, after which all hell breaks loose. It might be that she is nonplussed that the attitude of most of the other residents is to ignore her, which she finds insufficiently deferential. But I think she finds the quality of service at our establishment somewhat below her usual expectations.
Which reminds me, I see it’s almost time for Downton Abbey.