Wednesday, 30 March 2011

Elsie: The First Lady

Hello readers.  I'm Elsie or Little Cat (LC) and I am the first cat.  In fact I was the only cat for almost seven years so adapting to all the new comers has been quite a challenge.  I tolerate them, but expect them to keep their distance.

I was originally called Little Cat because when Jenny took me I was six months old but the size of a small kitten.  The people that owned me thought it best that cats look after themselves, which meant if I wanted to eat I had to catch it myself.  That was difficult for me, competing with my mother and the other cat that lived on the farm.  But I've been a survivor since birth. I was the only one in my litter that was allowed to live.  I also have a disability that means I have a rather funny walk.  Don't feel sorry for me though, the disability is only cosmetic as far as I'm concerned and when I was  a kitten I caught a rabbit - and ate it!

I really scared Jenny one night when she was visiting my previous owners and she saw me wrestling a huge huntsman spider (She's a bit scared of spiders, but I'm not).  I won and I ate it too!  In those days I couldn't afford to be fussy about food.

When I first moved to Jenny's house she had a partner who didn't like cats in the house.  So to keep me safe from the dogs and other predators I lived in the vegetable garden.  I liked it in there, but used to get frustrated when she was walking the dogs as I wanted to go too.  I got very good at coaxing the dogs to come close to the fence and then swiping them on the nose.  People think dogs are smart but I can assure you they are nowhere near as smart as cats.  You wouldn't believe how many times they fell for that one.

I also learned that pretending to have a fit elicited a fantastic response from the whole family.  It even include a trip to the vet the first time.  That vet finally figured it out it was just attention seeking behaviour and once the partner left and I moved into the house I stopped doing it.

I know more about Jenny than the others so I can tell you lots of secrets.  I think the funniest one is when she tried to learn to dance.  This sort of behaviour should be against the law.  After 'he' moved out she decided she needed to learn to dance.  She played some music and started convulsing around the house.  I was horrified and tried to stop her - gently of course.  I tried to rub against her legs and distract her, but she ignored me.  I swished my tail to try and attract her attention.  Nothing seemed to work so I was forced to take more drastic action.  I cried and swished my tail as angrily as I could - it scared the living daylights out of her.  She could see I was furious and was too afraid to continue this ridiculous behaviour.  Thankfully she turned the music off and went to have a shower.  I was so relieved, but wanted to make sure she never did this again.  As she walked out of the bedroom I launched myself at her and bit and scratched her calf - now I was absolutely sure she understood that she must never, never, never try to dance at home again.  I suspect she does it when she's out though, but I suppose I should be grateful that I don't have to see it.  Humans have no shame.

I'll be back another day to tell another story, so stay tuned.....


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