Feline Despot

I never really knew what it was like to be a cat lover, and as such, I never really owned a cat. But one day all that changed. Not the part about being a cat lover, but the part about being a cat owner, if anyone can ever label themselves such. Because one day I was at home on the couch watching a reality show about spouses cheating on each other. A very fat and ugly lady was trying to hit another with her shoe, but three large men were holding her back. Just then, in walked a cat. It was a grey, soft furry cat. It looked very nice, so I sat up, it cam to me and I stroked it. It fealt very nice too. Like a living cuddly toy. Pretty soon it was sitting on the couch with me, were it’s warm body was a comfort. It was really at home in my house from the start. I believe it even slept on my bed that first night, and it did so just about every night from then on. In fact, most of the time I was home, it was there too. Of course I didn’t really know what to make of my new friend.

Now I am a sigle guy, so most of my life not at work is spent hunting various women, with a view to bringing them home and having my way with them. It was a rare occasion and I had got lucky. When I had finally maneuvered her into the bedroom, I managed to wrestle her onto the bed, and Soon I had most of her clothes off. But as I battled with her blouse which was stuck over her head, she all of a sudden let out a blood curdling yell. Something else let out a yell too, a howl which sounded ominously like you hear when cats are fighting. We both leapt of the bed, scared stiff. She was crying and told me she had been attacked. Sure enough, she seeme dto be leeding from some cuts on her leg. I immediately turned the light on. There was the cat looking satosfied with himself, sitting on th ebed. I was so cross. But the cat was having none of it, it was quiet clear he thought the bed was a place for piece and quiet, and he intended to enforce that.

Things were more difficult after that. When I slept I had to keep dead still, especially when he lay against me, which he often did, or he would get upset. I had to lie along the edge of the bed so I didn’t disturb him as he reposed curled up in the centre. Soon he began enforcing his authority in the rest of the house too. He would wait in a side room til I walked down the passage, then leap out and sink his claws and teeth into my leg.

My reaction used to give him endless entertainment. I had no idea how he fed himself, until one day, as usual I was eating a andwich I had made in front of the TV. He came from the side, stuck his face into my plate and took the ham out the middle. It was then that I assumed he had reached the point where he required me to begin feeding him too. SO next time I was in Pick n Pay, I went to the cat food section. It didn’t seem like a bad idea, lots of fairly good looking women have cats and were in that section too. But I was horrified to see the price of cat food. So I remember how, that first time, I had chosen the very cheapest, and how, when I got home, the cat stuck his nose up at it, jumped on the counter and took a large chunk of chicken I had planned to eat myself. So then I learnt to only get the most expensive cat food.

One day I was sitting erect on the side table, since the cat was lying on the sofa. I was thinking, because the sound of the TV disturbed the cat’s repose. I was eating bread because I had spent all my money on cat food. I had not invited anyone because I knew the cat didn’t like other people. I had not gone out because I knew he gets lonely. My house had become a foreign place to me. It was then I realised. The cat had taken over.