Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Paws and Effect

Look at this! That bloody cat has been in the office, marching up and down my paperwork with his muddy paws, chewing up my pencils, stealing elastic bands and knocking as much onto the floor as he can.

What makes it worse is that this is exactly what used to make me Very Annoyed when I worked at the Big House, where my then-boss, Dorian, would allow her cats to roam freely in the office. I used to fume at the ruined letters, the cat hair in the printer and the dead animals left on the mat. Not to mention the strategically timed puking-and-poo-fests her feline friends would engage in whenever we were trying to impress anyone. I used to boot them, unceremoniously, out of the office whenever she wasn't looking.

But now, here I am, with my own office, with my own cats. I picked up the muddy paw-printed paper this morning and wailed "My god, have I turned into Dorian? Will I become orange and lose all my friends?" I had to boot the cat out, and fast, before I started down that slippery slope.

That was a close one. I settled down in my chair and began the serious business of the day. After an hour or so I became aware of a low purring. It dawned on me I had been absently stroking a small furry body for some time. That cat was back, on my lap, and I am officially one of those mad women.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Has it ever occurred to you that it might be your fate to turn into Mrs Slocombe ...?

Doris said...

I can cope with the pussy jokes as long as I don't have to have the candyfloss hair.

Anonymous said...

Excellent cat!

Doris said...

Yes, Stitchwort, he is a beautiful cat. Sleek, black and glossy with the capacity for endless bad behaviour. He does cat equivalents of "drive-by"s.

Anonymous said...

I believe the phrase you were seeking was "a very fine cat indeed" ... what you perceive as bad behaviour is simply him stamping his ownership upon you...believe me...I'm an expert, being currently owned (possessed?) by no fewer than six cats.

Do not try to understand too deeply (because if you think you're getting close, then he's conning you)...the intelligence is, I am convinced, alien...

This is no recent problem...Skelton wrote in the 15th or 16th century: "Vengeance I ask and cry, by way of exclamation, on the whole nation, of cattes wild and tame, God send them sorrow and shame" but to be fair that was after one had got at his pet bird...

(Oh my, I wax poetic...never mind, as Michael Foster puts it "Donne is Fonne but Chaucer is causer")

Anonymous said...

Aaaawwwwhhh, what a sweet cat. He looks very "I-know-I'm-disturbing-you-and-making-things-dirty-but-still-you-can't-resist-me"

You have a lot of weird things going on in your office: flies, power cuts, cats... How can you work at all? But still, it makes work a lot more colourful I guess.

Doris said...

Wow, Cogidubnus, I love it when you go all highbrow on me. And, yes, you are quite right, I never try to understand the cats' motives, It would be futile, especially given that the eldest is definitely showing signs of feline senility.

Hello, Cecile! The house is an amalgamation of strange occurrences, which do distract me, it's true, but also keep me entertained, so I am rarely bored. That's worth any minor inconveniences!

Boz said...

We love cats. Cats are evil. We love it.