Saturday, 27 June 2015

Mewster: Master of Humans

I realised the other day that I 'introduced' Mewster back in March but hadn't actually written any further posts about the furry little loon cat, so lets remedy that here.

Who owns who?

It is safe to say that Mewster owns us and not the other way round.  When we first got her she was a quiet little rescue cat, we could barely get a peep out of her but over the years she has found her voice and uses it to manipulate us daily.

She has comic timing and knows when she is being spoken about, she will meep or meow at just the right time in a conversation and has a range of cat sounds to indicate what she wishes us to provide for her (usually food).

Cuteness is a tool of manipulation

Her thing at the moment it to dig around in the ashes of our neighbours BBQs for meaty scraps, she then comes home and walks over the sofa or any light coloured surface.  You can see that she has white paws so struggles to hide the evidence of her misdemeanour's but will then give you a little kiss on the arm or nuzzle up against you and of course all is forgiven.

She has learnt simple tricks like giving high fives, and on command jumping on your shoulder to become parrot cat.  She patrols the garden and house, strutting back in proudly when she has chased a neighbour cat off our patch and has protected her humans from this terrible invasion.

Master of derp

She isn't all sleek cat though, she is a clumsy little thing, when you're sat in the living room and she is running about upstairs it sounds like you have a rouge pony jumping around up there.  She can be super creepy as well, you'll get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, switch the light on and she'll be sat in the sink watching you.  She stares at Sam for ten minutes or so at a time never pulling her gaze away, thank goodness she doesn't do it to me because it looks like she is reading his thoughts which are most likely 'why is that damn cat staring at me?'.

So that's Mewster, we wouldn't be without her.  When I was on holiday I missed her little face a lot, when she became super clingy on my return I was not so secretly pleased that she had missed me as much as I had missed her.

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