Getting along

„But the house goes only with the cat“, said the landlady in front of me and what else as to shrug your shoulders and to nod are you able to do, when you stand in front of someone, overladen with piles of book and the desperate need for somewhere to sleep? Finding an apartment in Ireland is close to hope to win in the lottery and I probably would have accepted a crocodile to look after and so I nodded again and moved in a few days later. But things were not as easy as I hoped them to be. The cat thought nothing good of me, the cat decided to think nothing of me at all and sat with her back towards me at the front door, leaving the house only to visit the grocer’s wife down the street to get some food. When the cat returned the cat looked deeply disappointed at me, realizing  that I still was there. Good morning cat, said I day after day when I filled her bowl, which the cat ignored. But finally after ten long days of cold silence, to my great luck, the grocer’s wife got a dog and from the first minute they met, the cat and the dog hated each other with deep and lasting passion. And so the cat decided that I might be evil but not as evil as the grocer’s wife dog. Alright then cat, said I and you dear Reader, who knows the world and the cats better than I do, will laugh out loud, just a few rules cat, my books are absolute taboo as well as my desk but the cat was not impressed a tiny bit and thought the books would suit her very well as well as the paper, the green cashmere shawl and of course the cat, which is in truth a demanding tyrant, soon became the queen of my desk with an extraordinary talent to sleep so deep as I was eager to get some work done. And as it suits only a queen, she jilted one admirer after another, the wonderful grey cat who came over to visit her, watching her for hours outside of the window, was not worth her a single meow, the giant ginger cat who brought her a mouse as a morning gift was dismissed and when I mentioned carefully to her that maybe the white tiger from the upper road might be not the worst companion at all, the cat just looked at me, slightly annoyed because the cat knows too well that I don’t have a single admirer at all and no one who thinks of bringing me a morning gift. So it was me, who waved the white tiger a sad goodbye and so we both stayed who and where we are, I am waiting for her to finish a book I maybe want to read when she in some far away time might have finished her nap on it, she waiting for my keys in the door to fill up her bowl straight away and with the exclusive food brought home from the grocery store, which the cat never visits anymore to the great distress of the grocer’s wife. Only sometimes when the rain pours down dreadfully along the windows but the cats wants to be let outside, realizing that I am not able to stop the rain, even when queen cat moves to the front door where it rains too, the cat looks very disappointed into my direction, probably telling herself that she knew from the first moment on that I would not  be able to handle the easiest things such as the weather and turns her back towards me.

16 Gedanken zu “Getting along

  1. What is it we love about cats? They can be ornery, independent,and pesky, but they are also affectionate, fun to watch, and playful. You caught a cat’s personality wonderfully in this post.

  2. Haha, wait till she’ll also occupy your lap. A lot of cats love to type on computer keyboards. To their great disapproval flat screens were invented. No more lying around on the 21″ monitor, that used to be so much fun. And comfy, too.

    • I see, there is much more fun to come and more things to be ruined in near future…I am not sure if Queen cat would be the typing cat type or the let-my-humble-servant type for me type…

  3. True, perhaps she would prefer a piano.

    I think it’s quite nice how Queen cat keeps you company so you don’t have to sit all alone at your desk. If she didn’t like you at all, she’d fart under your bed just when you are about to get in – then you’d be the one sleeping on your desk.

  4. Oh, if she wants to play Chopin for me, she would be very welcome. I definitely should get the grocer’s wife dog some Italian ham for preventing me from the scenario you are depicting, I’ll better opt for the couch tonight…

  5. When cats play piano it sounds more like minimal music (at best) if not Neue Musik, I’m afraid.

    The cat that used to hang around at one of the places we used to live – I met her on the street at night, cuddled her and she followed me home, she still sat outside the next morning, waiting to get into the yard, it was a very nice, very black cat – that cat sometimes jumped though the open window of my mother’s bedroom at night and walked over her piano, scaring the hell out of my sleeping mother with this Gespenstermusik. My sister and I loved this cat and her humour, our mother not so much.

  6. I feel with your mother but had to laugh, too. A very talented character! But Queen cat here is quite lazy, so if she wants to start a career in minimal music, I think she should go with John Cage’s organ composition, where once a year a tone is changed, this at least would go along with her sleeping habits.

    • Some cats are even into opera. I saw Rusalka the other night – when the witch Jezibaba appeared on stage she held a black cat in her arms. The cat didn’t struggle at all to get down, not even when Jezibaba started singing her aria and a duet with Rusalka. The cat just looked around on stage and peeked into the orchestra pit when the music got very loud. Amazing cat. After all she must have travelled in a cat box to the theatre – cats really hate cat boxes and usually are in a foul mood when they get out.

  7. Oh, Rusalka, I envy you! This sounds like an extraordinary production, would love to see it on stage. And of course, this cat must be a musician by heart, or bribed with salmon and tuna… I totally can understand why they hate to be carried around in boxes, it must feel like traveling on a ship making its way through waves, and I would feel sea-sick and grumpy for days after that…

  8. Such a marvelous piece of music. I sing like an old owl, but especially while listening to Rusalka, i wish I could sing. It must be a great pleasure to see it on stage. Thank you very much for the wonderful hymn to the moon, The cat and I are listening with our eyes both closed. By the way, the cat on stage reminded me of the very important role a cat plays in Bulgakow’s Master and Margarita….

  9. My Russian friends took me to Bulgakows house, which wasn’t yet a museum back then. No Begemot there, but the walls next to the door of his flat were covered with quotes from the book. I read it ages ago, perhaps I should borrow it again from my father to reread it.

  10. Oh, that sounds like a very interesting voyage and even before tourism discovered Bulgakow. The Master and Margarita is definitely worth a second reading. I read it again after reading, Karl Schlögel’s book on Moscow 1937 and discovered a whole lot of new perspectives.
    By the way, I hope your father recovers well!

  11. Pingback: Et tu, Brute? | READ ON MY DEAR, READ ON.

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