Catnip

People sometimes ask me why I haven’t blogged for a while. The answer is usually some horrible emotional meltdown, or computer failure, or act–of-God style impediment (getting stuck in Barbados due to volcanic ash, for instance). Of course, inertia also plays a large part. But there is one major culprit. My cat.

Yes, the gorgeous Mme Bovary, my furry muse, has conceived a jealous hatred of my computer. She no sooner hears the rhythmic click of the keyboard than she sprints over to my desk, jumps aboard, and attempts to inveigle herself between me and the screen. Sometimes she simply drapes herself over the keyboard, accidentally typing her own great works. Sometimes she positions herself so that I have far too good a view of her furry trousers. Sometimes she just sits, watching me with reproachful green eyes. Sometimes she pretends my moving fingers are little mice and bats them with her claws as I type – I am not mad keen on this, as you can imagine.

Usually, when she does this, I abandon my desk, no matter how promising the piece of writing, and get out Mme B’s favourite bright red Christmas bauble, which I am risking bad luck by not putting away, and throw it down the hall (it’s plastic, not glass!) for her to chase. She loves it.

 

When I was telling Child Two about Mme B’s interruptions to my working day, she said, ‘well, if you keep playing with her, then of course she’ll come and interrupt you. You’re rewarding her bad behaviour, Mummy’.  I thought, ‘oh my goodness, who’s been watching too much Supernanny? And then I thought, by jove, she’s right. I ought to get tough with Mme Bovary. I really ought to. But you see, she’s so cute and furry. And – oh, ow! Must dash, she’s trying to bite my fingers again ………. Any cat whisperers out there with handy tips? I really need them! ouch!