Being the caring, completely non self-involved person that I am, I like to think of myself as an ideal cat-sitter. It’s a shame that nobody else, including the cat, does.
Here’s what we know about the cat:
- This is a cat that goes under the name Momo
- It’s a cat that comes in the colours of black and white
- The cat is female, but I refer to it as a “he”. I have no good reason for this
Here’s an overview of the interaction between the cat and me, and the sequence of events since we became housemates:
On Saturday Scott brings Momo over in a cage (I think people refer to them as cat carriers though). Once Momo is released into my living room, he makes a mad dash for a corner behind a giant chest of drawers and hides there underneath a radiator. Luckily for Momo the radiator does not work. This is a very remote corner and Momo is not visible to the naked eye, unless you move the chest of drawers, lie down on the floor, squeeze your head between the wall and radiator and squint very carefully.
That’s fine by me of course. Momo likes to sit there in the dark covered in cobwebs scratching the carpet, I like to sit there in bright lights covered in a soft blanket watching sitcom repeats, neither of us wants to talk to each other, both of us are happy.
But this is what happens in the daytime. On Saturday evening around 2000, Momo slowly emerges. I guess this cat is what one might call “nocturnal” (if you don’t want to throw words around such as “schizophrenic”), because over the following 12 hours (early evening plus the duration of the night), the following events take place:
- Momo comes and rubs himself against any exposed part of my body (which results in me putting on socks, trousers and a light jacket)
- Momo jumps on every available surface spreading cat litter around
- Momo sits and stares and meows relentlessly at me
- Momo rolls on the floor in a playful manner
- When I go to bed and close my bedroom door behind me, Momo sits outside, meows and scratches the door
- When I get up to go to the toilet, Momo (who I had forgotten about as it’s 0430 in the morning and I’m half asleep) races into my room and tries to sniff everything before I chase him out
- Momo generally has a crazy old time
When I get up in the morning, around 0900, Momo has resigned to his state of self-imposed isolation and is not to be seen again until later that evening.
On Monday night, my timing is unfortunate as I come home from work/gym just as Momo is about to paint the town red again. Not wanting to offend him again (he is a guest after all), I try to humour him by:
- Stroking him a couple of times (and washing my hands with two parts water, one part Dettol after each time)
- Throwing his toy mouse at him once (which he gets very excited about)
- Filming him doing backstands and scratching the table whilst trying to attack my hand
- Occasionally meowing back at him
- Playing Break The Ice by Britney Spears for him
And here's a video of us playing, I don't know why it's sideways and I don't care.
Then I stick him back in the living room and go to bed.