Wednesday, June 23, 2004

Passive-Aggressive Feline Conspiracies

 I think I may have finally worked out the reason for much of Austen’s (my infamous tortoiseshell cat who is currently sprawled across my lap) recent Evil behaviour. She has a plan. Actually a conspiracy. Cats are too smart for mere plans. The word ‘Plan’ conjures up images of the silly schemes of simpletons like Wily Coyote. A plan would be leaving a trail of bird seed up to the bottom of a cliff above which a 40 tonne anvil is suspended waiting to drop on the road-runner. Plans invariably fail and usually with the coyote getting ‘comically’ squished himself. A conspiracy would require more effort. Clandestine meetings in underground lairs and boardrooms where shadowy figures menacingly decide on which method is best to inflict their doom on the unsuspecting public.


Thus conspiracy is far better word to describe the recent actions of Austen. She, however, does not require hoards of minions, influence over the Government or shadowy lairs to plot her way to achieving her goals. She works alone. A one-cat conspiracy – cute and fluffy but dangerous nonetheless.

Austen has been orchestrating an intricate operation. Each move as carefully calculated as a master Chess player. Each move bringing her closer to her end goal. And what you ask is that goal?

TO DRIVE ME TO A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN WHERE I HAVE TO QUIT MY JOB AND STAY AT HOME TO FULFIL HER EVERY WHIM.

I have at last found out the truth. Why else would she being going to such extremes as the following:

1. Drinking out of my glass of water. Every time my back is turned, I hear the lapping. I have even caught her drinking from my glass. Her own water bowl is full. I have carried her to it but still she persists in jumping up on the desk or table and drinking from my glass of water. The reason can only be that it is phase one of her conspiracy.

Phase One: Dehydration. Humans need water and slowly go mad when deprived of it.

2. Kill small mice. Decapitate them. Leave the corpses in places the humans won’t suspect like under the laundry. That maximises shock-value.

Phase Two: Shock and Scare Tactics. Nothing says “watch out” like a headless mouse in undergarments.

3. Meow loudly when the human does not expect it. Nothing puts a human on edge as quickly as a loud “meow” screamed in their ear from behind. Wait until humans are watching the TV or using the computer. Jump on them unexpectedly and meow loudly. Jumping from the side is good, jumping from behind is better. Randomly clawing furniture when they sit on it also helps build tension.

Phase Three: Keep the human on edge.

4. Be demanding. Sure a cat could paw out the food of her self-feeder by herself (hence the name ‘self-feeder’) but what would be the fun in that? Better to demand that they jiggle your food out for you regularly. Bonus: keeps paws clean.

Phase Four: Keep them busy with tasks you could easily do for yourself.

5. Run crazily around the room for no apparent reason. Act really affectionate until they stroke you. After a while bite and scratch them for no reason. Keep them guessing.

Phase Five: Confuse them with random strange behaviour.

6. Jump back on their lap while they are still typing their blog entry as if you have an uncanny knowledge of what they are typing… Communicate to your followers by walking across the keyboard…

0}bvggp0]kh[p0 reywyghut6xf4 jgtdyi8qwe (authentic Austen contribution from earlier today)

...then jump off and run away leaving the human with a desire to quickly finish typing and go and see what you are up to...

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home