Thursday, 6 January 2011

What lies beneath your feet

I think one of our cats is trying to kill me. The little kitler* just made her closest attempt yet to trip me at the top of the stairs and send me plunging to my death. She then, like most assassins I assume, left the scene as quickly as possible and assumed a practised look of complete innocence.

I'm not certain what brought this on, but I have one suspicion. In these straightened times it has proved necessary on occasion to serve own-brand cat food rather than the gourmet variety which 8 out of 10 cats are said to prefer. (How they go about asking these cats and gleaning their responses has never been made clear to us, but I'm prepared to accept their statistics).

Tonight was one such occasion and, just perhaps, said cat's measured response to being fed less than tip-top quality scran is to attempt to KILL the man who served it to her.

*I didn't invent this term.


  1. Cats, our evil plan has been discovered!

  2. Dexter spends so much time underneath our feet that when we accidentally step on his tail he just looks at us and violently flicks it out from under us. Tilly on the other hand makes damn sure we know what we've done in any number of ways ranging from screeching to pissing on our bed while we sleep.

    Beneath the cute fluffy face lies evil!