Tuesday, February 26, 2013


Chloe here . . . I have a little problem and I was wondering if I could ask your advice?
You may be able to help by having a word with my Mum.   I'd be so grateful if you could.

First of all, let me put you in the picture.
Would you call me a demanding cat . . . a difficult cat . . . an unreasonable cat?
Of course you wouldn't  . . . you know me.  But, just between the two of us, I sometimes wonder whether my Mum knows me as well as you do?

Incidentally, did you know that it's my third birthday today?
Not that I'm expecting any cards or presents, or anything like that . . .  just thought I'd mention it.

To get back to the problem we were talking about . . . my Mum is full of good intentions, no-one could deny that.  You've only got to see us setting off for our walks in the garden, she never goes without large bags of bird seed and peanuts.

Why?  It's all for my benefit . . . it's so that she can attract the birds and squirrels, and I can have lots of fun playing with them.

But this is where my poor Mum loses the plot.
Normally she's completely responsive to my wishes, I don't even know I'm on a lead.  She let's me race ahead, climb trees and feel totally free to do what I like.  But there seems to be something about bird seed and peanuts that thoroughly confuses her.

Just after she's sprinkled the bird seed under the bushes . . . just as the birds start to approach . . .  just as I'm tensing my muscles and slowly creeping forward . . . what does my Mum do?
She gets over-excited, forgets the purpose of the exercise, and suddenly tightens her grip on my lead.

I'm sure you can imagine what happens next.
To my shock and frustration, I discover that I'm held rooted to the spot . . . trapped . . . totally trapped.  In no way can I possibly act on my feline instincts.  What I want to do is to pounce on and play with all those fascinating, fluttering feathers, but I can't get within a paw's length of them.
Have you ever been forcibly restrained by a strap around your middle?  Believe me, it's not funny!

This happens each time we go into the garden, and each time I persuade myself that it's all an accident.  I know that my Mum would never intentionally spoil my fun, so why is it that she always tightens the lead at that crucial moment?

Then there's another matter that bothers me . . . there's the puzzle of the misplaced peanut holder in the hawthorn tree.

Just study this picture for a few moments . . .

 . . . do you see the squirrel?
Now, I've noticed that squirrels have very large teeth, so it seems wiser to chase them than to pounce on them. But how does my Mum think I can possibly chase a squirrel when it's feeding so high above my head?

So there you have it, my problem in a peanut shell:  instead of playing with the birds and chasing the squirrels . . .  all of us having lots of healthy exercise and good fun in the garden . . .  I'm left fretting on the sidelines, watching the birds and squirrels enjoying themselves without me.

I knew you would sympathise and understand my point of view . . . and, yes, I fully agree, wildlife watching does have a certain excitement of its own. But, oh dear,  for an energetic three-year-old cat, it's also extremely frustrating.

Between you and me, I sometimes find myself wondering . . . could it be . . . might it be . . . what if my Mum really doesn't want me to get close to the birds and squirrels?

No! She's an  honest human.  I'm sure she wouldn't be as devious as that.
After all, she knows full well that I only want to play . . . she does know that . . .  doesn't she?