Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Caspar, bless her, has a love/hate relationship with "outdoors". Particularly if she can't get the weather she's ordered.
Reproduced below is one of our standard rainy-day conversations, with Caspar's side of the argument freely translated from the feline:
Caspar: "Oh, great. You're up. (Finally!!) Excellent. I'd like to go out now, please. If it's no trouble."
Me: "Okaaaay. Can I just check? You have realised that it's raining, haven't you?"
"Raining, yes. Check."
"So you're not going to go out for approximately fifteen seconds and then demand to be let back in in a voice resembling the wail of a more than ordinarily distressed banshee, then?"
"Heavens, no. I am hurt that you should even suggest such a thing. I'll have you know I won merit badges for being Hardiest Kitten of the Litter. And that my voice is melodic and sweet at all times."
"I see. So, if I let you out now, you will do whatever it is you've gone out to do, and then sit patiently and quietly on the doormat until I am next near the back door? Like Bertie does?"
"That is correct, yes. (That ridiculous, overgrown kitten will not steal the moral high ground from me)."
"You promise?"
"Yes."
"Well, alright then."
A few seconds later...
"Help! Help! It's RAINING out here! Why wasn't I told? Is this thing on? Hello? Hello?? Can anyone hear me? For God's sake let me in out of this terrible downpour. Whaddaya mean, it's just drizzle? DRIZZLE?? You're not the one whose fur is getting wet! Let me in! LET ME IN, DAMMIT!! Oh, please let me in. Pretty please. I'll be ever so cute. I promise not to leave muddy paw prints on the duvet. This time. Oh, go on. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on. Feck. Arse. I'm about to complain to the RSPCA. I'll do it. I will. Don't think I won't. Let me in, you b ... oh, there you are. Thank you, I think I will come in, yes. Very kind of you to offer."
(Bertie, meanwhile, is too busy playing with snails to have even noticed that it is raining.)
Reproduced below is one of our standard rainy-day conversations, with Caspar's side of the argument freely translated from the feline:
Caspar: "Oh, great. You're up. (Finally!!) Excellent. I'd like to go out now, please. If it's no trouble."
Me: "Okaaaay. Can I just check? You have realised that it's raining, haven't you?"
"Raining, yes. Check."
"So you're not going to go out for approximately fifteen seconds and then demand to be let back in in a voice resembling the wail of a more than ordinarily distressed banshee, then?"
"Heavens, no. I am hurt that you should even suggest such a thing. I'll have you know I won merit badges for being Hardiest Kitten of the Litter. And that my voice is melodic and sweet at all times."
"I see. So, if I let you out now, you will do whatever it is you've gone out to do, and then sit patiently and quietly on the doormat until I am next near the back door? Like Bertie does?"
"That is correct, yes. (That ridiculous, overgrown kitten will not steal the moral high ground from me)."
"You promise?"
"Yes."
"Well, alright then."
A few seconds later...
"Help! Help! It's RAINING out here! Why wasn't I told? Is this thing on? Hello? Hello?? Can anyone hear me? For God's sake let me in out of this terrible downpour. Whaddaya mean, it's just drizzle? DRIZZLE?? You're not the one whose fur is getting wet! Let me in! LET ME IN, DAMMIT!! Oh, please let me in. Pretty please. I'll be ever so cute. I promise not to leave muddy paw prints on the duvet. This time. Oh, go on. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on. Feck. Arse. I'm about to complain to the RSPCA. I'll do it. I will. Don't think I won't. Let me in, you b ... oh, there you are. Thank you, I think I will come in, yes. Very kind of you to offer."
(Bertie, meanwhile, is too busy playing with snails to have even noticed that it is raining.)
posted by
Lady Bracknell | Thursday, June 28, 2007
11 Comments:
Haha, I'm laughed very loudly at this and kept giggling as I was trying to drink my coffee.
Can anyone recommend a good dry cleaner?
Oops, sorry ;-)
Buster always wants to be on the other side of any closed door. He is unable to imagine that anyone could be anything other than utterly delighted to see him.
PS Hope the return to work went OK.
Exhausting, mostly. But also quite fun.
Thanks for remembering. I appreciate it.
Hee hee! That's whiskers in roses and raindrops on kittens, surely.
Here you are: I've done you a vector of Bertie and Caspar. Happy back-at-work week! :)
Oh wow! That is fab!
Thanks, Jess :-)
You're welcome. I'm glad you like it. :)
As you well know I never post comments which simply say "Oh, brilliant post!"... but in this case I will make an exception.
I laughed so hard I think I slipped (another) disc. Although I think Caspar may have spent rather too much time with Father Jack! Maybe she needs some quality time with Unky Dude to persuade her that good girls don't swear.
Oops!
That last a nonny mouse was indeed from the aforementioned Unky Dude - long past whose bedtime it patently is.
Brilliant, utterly brilliant. "Merit badges for being Hardiest Kitten of the Litter". *wipes tears from eyes*
So none of the "can we try the other door to see if it's raining there?" (actually come to think of it the lurchers do that - the cat is not THAT stupid).
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