When I was growing up, my Mum was the lenient parent and my Dad was the strict one. This meant that I could get away with pushing the boundaries with my mum; maybe staying up a little later than I was allowed to, or being a bit more lippy than I should have been, or just not doing as I was damn well told! My mum used to tell me back then that I would have a child who would do exactly the same to me… she was wrong… I have a cat who does exactly the same to me.
My cat is a brat – but just for me. When Mark is here, butter wouldn’t melt. She doesn’t sit on the sofa, stands by the doorway leading to the bedrooms without even making an attempt to wander through and sleeps angelically in her bed. However, when “Daddy” disappears, Maisy the brat cat comes out to play. All of a sudden her bed is just not good enough and she is eyeing up the couch, but not just any seat on the couch – no, the seat which I sit on. Then, she swishes her tail back and forth as if I’m in her way. No amount of picking her up and placing her on the floor works – she knows, you see, I’m the lenient one.
She waits beside the door leading to the bedrooms and as soon as I open that door to re-enter, even just a crack, she sees her chance and she zips in, making me crawl under the bed to retrieve her. And don’t tell me that she’s just a cat – she knows exactly what she is doing. As I lift her up to bring her back into the lounge, which is plenty big enough for her to roam around in and has a view that most cats would kill for, she whines and screeches and I’m sure she’s giving me lip. So, Mum I guess you were right – and I am sorry! xxx