I hope you don't mind, but I've got my paws on the computer this week. I know my Mum means well, but, between you and me, she can get her facts a bit muddled. This story is all about me, so it's important to get the details right.
Now, as you know, my Mum and I go to the nursing home every Friday, and we've found lots of ways of cheering up the patients.
For instance, my Mum suggested that I should say 'hello' to each patient when we greet them. This seemed an excellent idea, so, when my Mum prompts me, I always say a polite "Miaow!".
You'd be amazed at the result. People's eyes light up and big smiles spread all over their faces . . . humans, I've decided, are very easy to please.
Then there's another clever double-act we've worked out.
When it's time to move on to the next room my Mum looks at me and says, "Do you want to go now, Chloe?".
This is my cue to turn to her in shocked indignation and give a loud "Nee-oww!" of protest.
It never fails! The patients go all pink with pleasure to think that I don't want to leave them.
Well, last week, after we'd been to see Muriel, Tony and Anne . . . and I'd said lots of 'Miaows' and 'Nee-owws' . . . the next person to visit was Peggy. Peggy isn't very well and she's usually in bed, so my Mum holds me over the bed to allow her to stroke me.
When we entered her room last Friday, Peggy was lying down and talking to her telephone. Humans, as I'm sure you know, have this strange habit of talking to telephones. I think they do it when they feel lonely.Anyway, when Peggy saw my Mum and me, she got all excited.
"I'm talking to my daughter in Melbourne," she said, "could Chloe speak to Linda?"
Well, as you know, I'm an obliging cat who's always willing to co-operate. But I must say I did feel a bit foolish at being asked to talk to a lump of plastic.
Nonetheless, Peggy had always been very nice to me and I didn't want to disappoint her.
So . . . "Miaow!" I said loudly at the telephone.
And do you know what happened?
That telephone spoke back to me!
It wasn't at all what I'd expected. But Peggy was absolutely delighted, my Mum was laughing, and it seemed that I'd caused a great deal of pleasure all round."Chloe . . . your voice has been heard in Australia!" said Peggy, reaching out to stroke me.
It didn't seem the moment to mention that I'd no idea as to where or what Australia was. But I'm sure you'll agree that, judging by the general reaction, it seems to be a very good place for a cat's voice to express itself.
Tell me . . . has your voice been heard in Australia?
