What a busy weekend. That is me in the picture resting.
It all kicked off when the man servant came home from Glasgow. Two cases and no toys for me. Just a T shirt for lady servant with some Scottish phrase on it. Lucky chap though as he bought a certain size which upset lady servant but surprisingly it fitted perfectly when she tried it on.
One lovely phrase he recounted when one of his new found Scottish colleagues threatened physical violence was to ‘kick him in the chucks’. I have a rough idea of what it means but being neutered myself from a very early age not quite sure of its full painful implications.
The man servant wanted to do some visiting to a museum, gallery or live performance; cultural is what he had in mind. He asked another new found Scottish colleague if there was anything cultural in Glasgow?
‘Aye, there is…………………..it’s called the train to Edinburgh’.
One of his colleagues he travelled with insisted on using his satnav everywhere they went. Including walking out from the hotel for dinner in the evening. This satnav led them a merry song and dance around some not so savoury parts of Glasgow foraging. Eventually the man servant took over and resorted to old fashioned find the main street and just look around rather than staring into a screen the size of a cigarette package. The man servant and his friend renamed the satnav ‘pratnav’.
Saturday and Sunday were a whirl with the man servant’s father around most of Saturday. He has a comfortable lap from where I watched some racing on Channel 4. Fine sport. Not the racing but letting the old chap nod off while the ads for Betfred and William Hill were running and then waking him up by digging my claws into his chest making him wake up with a start thinking he had chest pains. Don’t servants know this is an action of endearment?
Sunday was just a lazy day.
While man servant was away I took on the role of man of the house. Once again this entailed managing the major invasion of spiders coming in for the winter. Well, actually, it was only two I had to deal with which provided fresh protein to my diet. It is no fun when they are trapped in the bath tub but a feline has to do what it has to do. The man servant reckons that spiders’ hearing is at the end of their legs.
Put one on a table, clap your hands and they run away. Remove their legs. Clap hands and hey, they stay where they are. QED or for the reader more acquainted with insurance advertising ‘Simples’.
Managed to run lady servant ragged in the morning. Knowing the when she had to be out the door to catch a bus or a lift I would time my silent meoww and pitiful ‘want the door open look’ to about five minutes before her planned departure. I kept her waiting for five minutes and about ten seconds one wet morning. It was great sport watching the anxiety cross her face as the rain came down. I didn’t make her miss her lift so next time I will run it for five minutes ten seconds just to push the limits.
Being man of the house entitles the holder, C’est moi, the regal feline; to take the best seat in the house. Unfortunately I had to surrender this on his return. I didn’t really give it up though. I just vacated it before he came downstairs to be polite. I can reclaim it next week as he I heard him drop a marital faux pas earlier. He is off to Coventry next week for a few days. Judging by the silence around the house tonight he has already got there.