Cleo’s report

Dear Elaine and other RSPCA friends,

It’s Cleo here – the most important cat in the world, as I’m sure you remember.  I’m called Clawsewitz now, after a historical military commander who was almost as clever as me but nothing like as pretty.

[singlepic id=6921 w=320 h=240 float=center]

It has been just over three months since you gave me my new human to adopt, and I’m pleased to report that I’m very satisfied.  Herm is quite bright for a human and extremely biddable, even understanding such complex commands as “turn the microwave off while I’m eating” and “hang the spare sheet over the clothes rack so I can play inside it”.  I have trained Herm to pet me exactly right, and with some patient training I have got rid of the more annoying habits, such as trying to feed me cheap tinned food.  (I have Felix meat in jelly now.)

There was just one unfortunate episode, in which I was lured under false pretenses into an undignified carrier and taken to see a vet for something called a “check-up”.

[singlepic id=6927 w=320 h=240 float=center]
I was not OK with this. There was a DOG in the waiting room.

I was forced to give the woman a really good hiss for daring to touch my tummy, which nobody but Herm is allowed to tickle, but far from treating this as the dire warning it clearly was, she and Herm just laughed and called me a typical tortie.  Rubbish.  I am an exceptional tortie.

Other than that outrage, which I have instructed Herm is never to be repeated, there are only two dark spots in my existence.  One of these is the hoover, which makes a distastefully loud noise, and which I would like you to take away and find a new home for immediately, please.  The other is a thing called Work, which is something Herm goes and does somewhere beyond the flat’s front door.  While this conveniently takes place during the daytime when I am usually napping, it is inconvenient not to have my human on hand in case I have an emergency like an itchy ear I’m too lazy to scratch.  Thus, I would like Work to be banned, please, and my Herm to stay at home with me forever.

[singlepic id=6924 w=320 h=240 float=center]
I do attempt to persuade Herm not to leave but humans can be thick sometimes.

I have had lots of visitors since assuming ownership of the flat.  At first I made a strategic retreat under the sofa whenever a new person appeared, but they soon got the message that I require a toll from anyone entering the flat.  Now everyone who comes round gives me a treat.  This is the sort of scheme only a cat as clever as me could think up, and of course the humans think it’s their idea.  I like having visitors now.

My flat is quite often attacked by a bird.  I assume it flies in through an open window or something; no matter how it gets in, though, it is very cheeky and needs to be repeatedly pounced and murdered until it surrenders and goes back into my toy box.  As well as the bird, I have several other things to murder, including a tennis ball, a shoelace-rope, a red glowing dot and a fluffy hedgehog filled with nice-smelling stuff.  All this takes quite a lot of effort, and in fact I have slimmed down considerably, but as the cat of the house I’m the only person who can protect my human from such threats and so I gladly take on this duty.

[singlepic id=6918 w=320 h=240 float=center]
People try to tell me this is a toy.  Rubbish.  I KNOW it’s a real bird.

In conclusion, I am very satisfied with my newly-adopted human.  They are stupid creatures really, but they’re so sweet when you wake them up in the morning with a mew and a soft pat to the face.  They practically have personalities of their own.  In fact, if you have any more humans just like mine, please drop one round so that I can have twice the attention and fuss.  And twice the food.


Clawsewitz, née Cleo

[singlepic id=6930 w=320 h=240 float=center]

P.S. Look at my Catit Food Maze.  No wonder I’ve slimmed down so much when I have to get my food out for myself!  A cat’s work is never done.