Are cats responsible for 99% of illiteracy?
Posted: Mon Feb 23, 2015 5:55 pm
And will your cat permit you to type a reply?
This isn't an original idea of mine, but a cartoon I saw a while back. But by heck it had the ring of truth! As a readaholic and would-be writer, I've come to the conclusion that cats HATE the printed word (unless it benefits them of course!) Naturally a book, or magazine or newspaper, is a comfy place to roost, especially when it's on your knee and you have that settled, peaceful look that attracts the cat or cats of your heart to invade and enjoy that peace with you...THEY call this 'enhancing the experience' of course.
My Emily is the worst offender. She says that that flat black thing is not my laptop! SHE is my laptop. Trouble is, she doesn't come with a keyboard or broadband. And as for a nice read, well...Her body language puts Marcel Marceau to shame. Sitting over me on the sideboard she hunches, she looms, like a great big (dare I say it?) PURRPUSSFUL vulture. No putting her off. Have to rearrange me, book, and let Emily lounge...oh and she wants cuddles and bellyrubs too, and...and, well, it's very hard to get past the first paragraphs...
And that's not all. In this house there are A LOT of books. The cats and I sort of fit round snake vivariums and bookcases and when one of my (now sadly departed) tomcats, Finn, joined us after a feral adulthood and was introduced to a life of soft beds and full bowls and...books, well he didn't quite see the point of books. Books were on a par with car hubcaps, and he'd only one use for car hubcaps. Line up, take aim, fire...Pee D James, I do apologise! (Finn never did!)
Even the other night, as I sat up in bed with, as always, a book, my youngest cat Molly was having her mad half hour, which is like living with a poltergeist. This time she sprang on to the bed, attacked my book, chewed a corner of a page off, tore off another chunk and...tore off on her merry way, leaving me to find the sellotape...cats!
I think the worst insult though was when, a year or two back, I bought a spare laptop. This thing was a lemon. It never thrived with me. The first indication was a couple of days after its arrival when it jammed completely and I was forced to take it to a very glum computer shop person who accused me of 'disabling the mouse.'
'You've pressed a lot of keys together!' He sounded quite pleased.
'No I haven't!' I'd treated the damn thing like a new baby. Then the penny dropped.
Molly and Finn had paid friendly visits to me, via the keyboard, clumping over it, purring, sure of their welcome...and disabled the mouse!
Well, isn't that why cats were put on this earth? To disable the mouse?
This isn't an original idea of mine, but a cartoon I saw a while back. But by heck it had the ring of truth! As a readaholic and would-be writer, I've come to the conclusion that cats HATE the printed word (unless it benefits them of course!) Naturally a book, or magazine or newspaper, is a comfy place to roost, especially when it's on your knee and you have that settled, peaceful look that attracts the cat or cats of your heart to invade and enjoy that peace with you...THEY call this 'enhancing the experience' of course.
My Emily is the worst offender. She says that that flat black thing is not my laptop! SHE is my laptop. Trouble is, she doesn't come with a keyboard or broadband. And as for a nice read, well...Her body language puts Marcel Marceau to shame. Sitting over me on the sideboard she hunches, she looms, like a great big (dare I say it?) PURRPUSSFUL vulture. No putting her off. Have to rearrange me, book, and let Emily lounge...oh and she wants cuddles and bellyrubs too, and...and, well, it's very hard to get past the first paragraphs...
And that's not all. In this house there are A LOT of books. The cats and I sort of fit round snake vivariums and bookcases and when one of my (now sadly departed) tomcats, Finn, joined us after a feral adulthood and was introduced to a life of soft beds and full bowls and...books, well he didn't quite see the point of books. Books were on a par with car hubcaps, and he'd only one use for car hubcaps. Line up, take aim, fire...Pee D James, I do apologise! (Finn never did!)
Even the other night, as I sat up in bed with, as always, a book, my youngest cat Molly was having her mad half hour, which is like living with a poltergeist. This time she sprang on to the bed, attacked my book, chewed a corner of a page off, tore off another chunk and...tore off on her merry way, leaving me to find the sellotape...cats!
I think the worst insult though was when, a year or two back, I bought a spare laptop. This thing was a lemon. It never thrived with me. The first indication was a couple of days after its arrival when it jammed completely and I was forced to take it to a very glum computer shop person who accused me of 'disabling the mouse.'
'You've pressed a lot of keys together!' He sounded quite pleased.
'No I haven't!' I'd treated the damn thing like a new baby. Then the penny dropped.
Molly and Finn had paid friendly visits to me, via the keyboard, clumping over it, purring, sure of their welcome...and disabled the mouse!
Well, isn't that why cats were put on this earth? To disable the mouse?
