Cum sa iti cunosti pisica. Luati de cititi:
Real cats are not simply self-possessed. Nor are they simply neurotic. They are both, at the same time, just like real people.
Real cats do eat quielic. And giblets. And butter. And anything else left on the table, if they think they can get away with it.
We had vegan friends who handled the cat food tin in the same way that people at Sellafield handle something that’s started to tick. in the end, they worked out a vegetarian diet with the occasional treat of fish. Their cat was a young Siamese. it thrived on the stuff. Of course it did. It used to go out and hang around the organic goat shed, and ate more rats and mice than its owners had hot dinners, which wasn’t hard. But it was very understanding about it, and never let them know. We occasionally saw it trotting over the garden with something fluffy in its mouth, and it used to give us looks of conspiratorial embarrassment, like a pint.
You take the pill in one hand and the cat in the other…
You take the pill in one hand and in the other you take a large kitchen towel with one angry cat head poking out of the end. With your third hand you prise open the tiny jaws, insert the pill, clamp the jaws shut and, with your fourth hand tickle the throat until a small gulping noise indicates that pill has gone down.
It hasn’t gone down. Because it’s just gone sideways. Real cats have a secret pouch in their cheeks for this sort of thing. A Real cat can take a pill, eat a meal, and then spit out the slightly damp pill with a noise which, if this was a comic strip, would probably be represented as ptooie.
Cats have always had the same well-meaning but shaky grasp of hygiene as humans, viz, if you’ve covered it over, it isn’t there. The important thing is not actually to have achieved Hygiene, but to have been seen to have made ,the effort – as in, for example, trying to claw the lino into the dirt box.
What’s so hygienic about having a wash in your own spit?
Real cats are survivalists. They’ve got it down to a fine art. What other animal gets fed, not because it’s useful, or guards the house, or sings, but because when it does get fed it looks pleased? And purrs. The purr is very important. it’s the purr that does it every time.
*Cine m-a vazut ieri in metrou razand fara sa ma pot opri, precis a crezut ca sunt nebuna. De fapt, era doar din cauza lui Terry Pratchett care, intre noi fie vorba, e un geniu, iar cartea asta e cea mai misto pe care am citit-o pana acum :D*