If I ever wrote a children’s book – and I have no intention of writing a children’s book – the lead protagonist would be my cat – Big Girl (aka Slim Shady). As you probably know by now, we have two cats; Slim and Kirby (Little Girl). Slim is the mother of Kirby (i.e. Big Girl is the mother of Little Girl). See? If you’re confused about our various differing cat names, let me explain: When T.S. Eliot wrote ‘Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats’ (a book of poems about cats, which was subsequently made into a really unintelligible Andrew Lloyd-Webber musical), he wrote one particular poem called, ‘The Naming of Cats’. This poem rings true for us. It focuses on how cats have a ‘given’ name, and a ‘secret’ name. So, either we are very poetic people, or we are just very literal people with no imagination whatsoever. Plus, when you take your pet to the vet, you mustn’t let the vet know how weird (or unimaginative) you are. When we take Big Girl for her vaccinations, we tell the veterinary staff she is called Slim Shady (which some may say is equally as stupid as Big Girl). But if Big Girl could choose her own name – her secret name – it would be Big Girl (or Biggie). She’s not even especially big; she’s just very long and thin and bony – and the name differentiates her from Little Girl (who isn’t especially little anymore).
Anyway, I digress. The reason Big Girl would be the star of my children’s book is due to her complex character. I can’t say that she’s a particularly nice cat, but she has a lot of personality. So much so, that after this paragraph, Big Girl will be writing the rest of this blog post. Oh, it’s important before you read any further, that you know Big Girl has an accent. I think it’s because she has wandered far and wide, roaming many, many lands before she finally broke into our house (malnourished and pregnant) and decided it was her home. You are going to need to read this blog in that accent. I don’t precisely know what the accent is; I think it may be a mixture of Eastern European, Italian, Indian…and Welsh. Have you managed to conjure that exotic blend up in your mind? Good. So, it’s time for you to read about Big Girl’s philosophy on life. She doesn’t ask for much, but she does ask that we all adhere to these certain rules; or rather, a path that we must follow; ‘The Gospel According to Big Girl’.
“’Ello ‘oomans! My name is BIG GIRRRRRL! I am a very friendly, easy-going kitty. Or at least, I can be if you don’t p*ss me off. And that is why I decided to take over and write Mummy-Ooman’s (normally crap and super-boring) blog this week. Now, you may not be lucky enough ever to meet me, but if you do, I ‘ave thoughtfully devised a set of clear, easy-to-follow rules for you as a guide – this is ‘ow I like to be cared for. Follow these rules, and you and me, we might (just might) get along.
First and foremost, you need to know that there’s no touching! Not unless I say so. If I am not sitting ‘igh up on the kitchen table and stretching my ‘ead and neck out, and giving you a friendly ‘meow-meow-meow’, this means ‘no f***ing touching!’. And don’t even THINK about picking me up. I will make a noise like this… ‘ewwwwwwwmmmmmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeahhhhhhhhhhhhheeeewwwwww!’. The male ‘ooman in this ‘ouse insists on picking me up every day, even though ‘ee knows I don’t like it! So I’m upside down with my frikkin’ feet in the air like some lame domestic kitty! My belly is exposed and I don’t like it! Oh, and I don’t sit on laps (unless you happen to be sitting exactly on the section of the sofa I wanted), so you can forget about thinking I’m some idiot lap-cat!
Danger, Danger, Danger!!
I’m not an idiot-kitty, and I know all ‘oomans secretly want to murder me. So, do yourself a favour and be careful how you approach me! Do NOT attempt to stroke me with two ‘ands – I know that means certain strangulation. Make no mistake, I will bite you! Also, do NOT touch me with leather gloves on your ‘ands; (again, probable strangulation for me). I repeat; I WILL bite you. Oh, and while we’re at it, don’t come at me with a bunch of keys in your ‘ands either. I swear to God, I will have no option but to rip your ‘ead off!!
‘Ooman Positioning and Placement
Be extremely cautious where you stand in proximity to me. Under no circumstances must you stand above me (I know you plan to ‘it me!) or stand behind me (I know you are chasing me!). Do not stand in between me and my food bowl either. I need a direct path to my food without you in it. So, to recap: No standing above, behind, or in path of food. Got it? Good.
‘Oomans I Don’t Like
All of them! No, let me think on that one. Errmm…the big male ‘ooman with the beard in my ‘ouse; ‘ee really sucks because, as you know, ‘ee picks me up. Oh, and I don’t the one they call ‘Small Child’. I don’t care what she does; she deserves to be bitten no matter what. I’m not too fond of the woman ‘oo calls ‘erself, ‘Mummy’ either (I call her, ‘Witch’), although she does give me my food, so I tolerate ‘er. The only person in this ‘ouse ‘oo is vaguely okay is ‘Big Child’. Well, I really like ‘er bedroom, anyway. I like to change my sleeping space once every two weeks (a very sensible security measure, in my opinion), but Big Child’s room? It’s the shizzle! Mmmmmm! Oh, one more thing, I do not like strangers!! I ‘ate the postman, the ASDA man, the Amazon man, the man ‘oo checks the electric meter; anybody ringing the doorbell, really. Not to mention the losers ‘oo come in to feed me when my family are on ‘oliday’; I ‘ate them too, and I’m not going to eat the food they put down for me, because it’s obviously poisoned!!
Kitties I Don’t Like
All of them! All cats in this area suck, because they are all evil! I ‘ave to check the perimeters of my ‘ouse daily for evil cats or all the ‘oomans in this ‘ouse would be dead in their beds! They’re lucky to ‘av such a vigilant kitty like me! I especially ‘ate ‘Stupid Runt Cat’ (she’s the other cat that lives ‘ere – the one the ‘oomans call ‘Kirby’, and are always fawning over, because she lets them stroke ‘er and doesn’t bite them – idiot). Stupid Runt Cat is always ‘iding in corners and jumping out on me. She jumps right on my frikkin’ ‘ead! ‘Ow is any self-respecting kitty supposed to put up with that sh*t? Oh, and another cat I really ‘ate is Tiger (‘oo lives next door). I swear to God, if Tiger steps in my front or back garden one more time, I am going to get my paws (claws out) right around ‘er neck and…and-!! *Big Girl has to lie down at this point to calm down*
General Tips and Advice
Just so you know, I ‘ate the cat flap (the ‘ole from ‘ell); it nips my tail. I do know ‘ow to get in and out of the cat flat, but it took me six months to learn, and I’d really just rather the ‘oomans damn well open the door – lazy turds! And while we’re talking do’s and don’ts, make sure the downstairs toilet door (the toilet which ‘ouses my litter tray) is propped completely open. If you don’t, I will p*ss outside on the rug – your choice.
The Good News!
Don’t despair, ‘Oomans, sometimes I can be a friendly little kitty. Like I say, if I’m sitting up ‘igh on the kitchen table and am pointing my head up in the air and saying, ‘meow-meow-meow’, it’s safe to stroke me. But don’t take my good mood for granted and look away, because I might change my mind and bite you. If I’m sitting in my current sleeping place, it is also permissible to stroke me. I might even purr. And guess what? When you drive ‘ome at the end of a long working day, I will run out into the middle of our road, nearly causing a traffic collision, just so I can greet you! You can even stroke my back (and tail) and I won’t bite you until we get back in the ‘ouse. ‘Ow lucky are you? All in all, I am the best kitty you could possibly ‘ope for. Just follow the above rules and we won’t ‘ave a problem. Capiche?”
Well, I’m sorry about that rude intrusion onto my blog, and the incessant cursing. Big Girl is a very volatile personality, and it’s really better to just let her get on with it sometimes. Still, I know what some of you may be thinking; why do you put up with such a horrible cat who gives so little in return for your love and devotion? Well, we have the feeling Big Girl had a pretty tough life before she came to live with us – hence the hostile nature. She has trust issues that I don’t think will ever be fixed – and she’s lived with us for nearly five years. Still, we love her. Okay, she doesn’t provide much affection (apart from the odd stroke [on her terms], and running out into the street when you come home, like you are the best thing since sliced bread), but every cat deserves a loving home. Even the bloody miserable ones.