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Friday, 8 August 2008

That'll do micely....

I am not a person of temper - "he has a long fuse", "patience of a saint", "I dont know how you put up with it" - all descriptions of self, provided by my completely unbiased maternal parent. This week, the legendary fuse snapped. It was time for one of those talks.

"Look, I dont mind doing the tea every night. I dont mind working sixteen hours a day on this house so it will be comfortable for you. I dont even mind the fact that yor schedule is completely unpredictable, or the fact that you take up the whole bed. But, you have to admit that this week, you've really pushed it. And being Canadian is not really an excuse. We need to look very seriously at the whole situation and come to some sort of agreement."

Callisandra looks at me and blinks twice, then looks away briefly. In cat language, this is the equivalent of a kiss, and the fact that she does this with eyes as big as plates, licks her formerly broken paw and then cocks her head to the side at just enough of an angle to look adorable, as if she's desperately trying to understand what I am saying is enough, she thinks, to make me loose my resolve, give her a tickle, and then, give her the 'precious', the whole point(to her) of this conversation, the Holy Grail of most of her interactions with me, namely, a Whiskas Dentabit Tuna Flavoured Treat.

I am, however, made of strerner stuff, and I have a point to make.

"I dont mind the frogs because you guys dont bite them ..[this is true, the cats pick frogs up 'soft mouthed' and bring them in, watch them for a bit, then loose interest.]... but last night was just not on."

Last night Callisandra brought an adorable little mouse home. It had big eyes, beautiful tan fur, and it scrunched up it's nose when it sniffed things. As soon as we discovered the mouse, cowering under the sofa, but otherwise unhurt, we threw the cats out of the room, and began a series of tactics and strategems that eventually lasted three hours, trying to catch the creature and release it unhurt. At one stage, it crawled into my shoe, and I pounced, grabbed the shoe, ran outside and shook the thing out. Alas, no mouse.

Eventually, exhausted, we went to bed and let events take their course, and in the morning the mouse was gone. We were both pathetically upset, and we discussed this over our chicken stir fry that evening. Unfortunate as it is for mice though, we will be moving, later rather than sooner, to a new neighbourhood, and while the renovation work we have been doing on Large Villas has, according to all reports from our new neighbours, resolved the local mice infestation that seemed to be centred on the property we bought, it's nice to know that our $8000.00 cat may yet turn out to be useful.

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