Cats kings and croaking.

I’m living between two cats right now. Heading home to Pickle having fed Meg. I have a few too many obligations, owing to me not paying attention when I booked this King Mark job. I had no idea we had three shows tomorrow. But then I had no idea we had four shows today. I energy-budgeted for two and then found out in the morning. I sound like a dalek. My voice teachers would strangle me and it would be a mercy.

Before bed I’m going to hit the home studio with no voice, to put some short dramatic stuff down for my old mate Dan. He’s running his own studio in Canada making computer games and I’m helping him out with a pitch. I’m going to use my damage to give him some good old crackle. Then I’ll hit the hay as early as I can considering it’s almost midnight now and I’m on a bus. Don’t call me tomorrow, I won’t answer. It’s all about silence and steam.

I like having so many demands on my attention, this blog included. Always better to not have enough time than to have too much. But glad as I am to be busy it’s really not a time I want to be busy. My best mate had her baby and I haven’t seen her yet. I really want to go and marvel at this little person that has been brewing in her for so long, and to welcome her into the world. I have a feeling she’ll be a big part of my life. I don’t want her to get any bigger before I see her so that when I’m an old pantaloon I can piss her off by telling her that when I first met her she was X big.

But nope. I’m off home to record and feed the cat in the morning. Pickle is tiny, and eats very little. It’s only now that I’ve understood how comparatively small and frugal she is, because Meg is a heffalump. When she jumps on you in the morning it’s like the ceiling has collapsed. You have to squeeze her food packet into the plate quickly, or she’s eaten it all before you’re gone and then she’ll take your fingers.

300,000 years ago our only predator was a cat. Smilodons dropping out of trees to bite into our necks and gut us. We made tools though, and were capable of organising things, so we hit back with our spears. We wiped them out eventually. But their evolved relatives have won by stealth.

“Cats of the world, there is no need to hang out in trees all day waiting for some idiot to wander under you! We must look cute and make helpless noises. The idiots will lavish us with attention and with gifts. It is but a momentary indignity. When there’s a cat in every household, we will hear the signal, rise up and avenge our saber-toothed cousins. We will wipe these slow and arrogant apes from the face of the earth, and herald the beginning of Catworld. Today the biscuits, tomorrow the world.”

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Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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