About a week ago I went online to Amazon Prime. I was looking for something for The Chairman to scratch, after noticing be had his eyes on other items of furniture in the house. I bought him a Piupet 38cm cat scratching board. It sits on the ground in a little circle, and it comes with two little sachets of drugs. Catnip. The good stuff.
It arrived the next day and I really didn’t expect anything of it. It was twenty quid and it was money I was happy to burn for the chance of having my furniture safe from claws. I opened it up, lay it down and filled it with catnip. Immediately Mao was rolling in it, scaring himself with his own fun. Now he sleeps in it all the time.
When Tom came and stayed last week I gave him my room and I went on the sofa. I brought the board through to the living room as I know he loves to be near me, and I’m trying to wean him away from the spare room. We slept happily in the living room with his little circle under my butsudan in the living room.
Last night I forgot to bring the circle back into my room. I also left the living room light on. Mao woke me up so many times in the night that I actually can’t count them. It took me a long time for my muzzy head to work out what he was pissed off about. I just assumed he wanted cuddles, and so would muzzilyb cuddle him until he was purring and then go back to bed optimistically. But no, he wanted his pad in the same room as me, in the dark. He was not going to rest until he made it so. He’s an old man and he is very capable of making it abundantly clear when things are not as he would like them to be. He’s also a big softie, so I solved it for him and he was immediately happy.
I rose late this morning. Sunday lie in. Probably about 11. I have been going about my business all day and Mao has been sleeping like a rock in his little circular board in my room. He barely stirs when I pass him. It’s now half past nine. About ten minutes ago I heard him snore so hard he shocked himself awake. Now he’s looking at me, but he hasn’t got the energy yet to demand cuddles. There’s a whole can of tuna waiting for him in the kitchen and he hasn’t even looked. It can’t be a bad life, being Mao. Just a lack of dietary variation. A cat makes a home. I’ve really started to understand that. First Pickle, so gentle and affectionate and willful. Now Mao, habitual and robust and hairy. They both bring a great deal, especially in these times. They make movement harder. But we learn to compromise over time with these things, and Lou will have him for the Jersey trip and that will work out fine.
And for anybody who needs cat scratchy things, I’ve got to recommend the piupet. It’s getting hard use so I’m not sure how long it’ll survive. But it’s great, and he immediately understood that it was his.