HOW TO MEDICATE AN INTELLECTUALLY CHALLENGED CAT: INSTRUCTIONS FOR HOUSESITTERS

1. Clear space on kitchen work surface. Scan surface for sharp or burning objects, keeping in mind The Time Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend Set Fire To His Tail By Walking Too Close To A Candle. Arrange food dishes and remove two pills from jar priced erroneously and unfairly excitingly on Internet at “50p for 30!” (actual price: 50p each).

2. Call cats, using special patented Tomwhistle.

3. Place pouches of meaty slop on kitchen counter, carefully avoiding three year-old packets of Felix As Good As It Looks (aka As Bad As It Smells) at rear of food drawer. Dispense meaty slop.

4. Throw Intellectually Challenged Cat Resembling TV Food Enthusiast Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall off kitchen counter with one hand, whilst using other hand to carefully place two pink pills inside one dish of meaty slop. If possible, try to insert pills into meaty chunks themselves, rather than just into jelly. Whilst doing this, try not to dwell overly on substance concerned. Think of it this way: yes, it smells, but if you really thought about an egg or some milk, you probably wouldn’t want to go near that either.

5. Wash hands, thoroughly.

6. Dive across kitchen, just in time to remove face of Intellectually Challenged Cat Resembling TV Food Enthusiast Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall from pilled dish of meaty slop.

7. Whilst looking the other way and pretending to be occupied, quickly swoop down and pick up Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend. Pick up pilled dish of meaty slop, and place cat and slop in adjacent room.

8. Remove face of Intellectually Challenged Cat Resembling TV Food Enthusiast Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall from bottom of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend, and close door, firmly.

9. Feed remaining five cats. For full instructions on feeding, refer to How To Feed Six Sodding Cats: Instructions For Housesitters (Under The Paw, Simon And Schuster, 2008).

10. Open door of adjacent room, and release Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend back into kitchen. Collect leftover pills from Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend’s now otherwise empty bowl, and place on kitchen counter.

11. Chase Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend downstairs, maintaining enough speed not to lose sight of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend, but not so much speed that Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend runs out of catflap in fear.

12. Carefully circle Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend, feigning great interest in object in entirely opposite direction from Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

13. At the count of three (please note: counting should be done purely in own head), dive at Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

14. Pick self up off floor, ignoring disdainful looks of suddenly appearing Sensitive Artistic Secret Warlord Cat. Sit down in Formerly Sumptuously Restored 1970s Armchair Now Permanently Jealously Overseen By Attention Seeking Grey Dwarf Cat. Relax and clear mind of feline-related thoughts, being sure to avail self of film collection on adjacent shelf. Please note: for purposes of continued mind-clearing, best to avoid ‘The Complete Bagpuss’ DVD.

15. Wait ten minutes, then return upstairs. Call cats, using special patented Tomwhistle.

16. Throw Intellectually Challenged Cat Resembling TV Food Enthusiast Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall off kitchen counter.

17. Gingerly creep downstairs, gently calling Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

18. Pick Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend’s claw out of back, having not realised that, while you were heading downstairs, looking for Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend, Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend was above you, playing a game of “Prison” (aka ‘Use Bars Of Balustrade As Protection Whilst Violently Batting Soft Parts Of Passing Unsuspecting Humans’).

19. Open fridge, and retrieve Tesco Finest Honey Roast Ham from minus one drawer. Place on kitchen counter.

20. Open cat food drawer, and keep Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend’s interest by rustling sachet of meaty slop.

21. Take Tesco Finest Honey Roast Ham to pills. Realise “pills” is now in fact “pill”.

22. Pick up Intellectually Challenged Cat Resembling TV Food Enthusiast Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall and notice telltale pink smear around mouth of Intellectually Challenged Cat Resembling TV Food Enthusiast Hugh Fernley-Whittingstall.

23. Wash hands, thoroughly.

24. Secrete remaining pill inside sheet of Tesco Finest Honey Roast Ham, creating pill sandwich. Step boldly towards Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend and sweep Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend off floor, then feed pill sandwich to Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

25. Witness small, girlish meow, and realise that, in attempting to follow How To Feed Six Sodding Cats instructions, one cat, Prettyboy Tabby Cat, was omitted from melee.

26. Place Prettyboy Tabby Cat on Strange Plastic Grandma Stool, with dish of meaty slop.

27. Watch Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend begin to convulse in corner of room.

28. Grab kitchen roll and dive, belatedly, in direction of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

29. Cautiously examine effluence of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend, finding no pink pill.

30. Double bag effluence of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend and place in dustbin.

31. Sigh, and wash hands, thoroughly. Spot pink pill – now quarter of former size - stuck to trouser leg.

32. Repair to fridge, retrieve butter, and firmly cut off thumb-sized knob. Place pill inside knob.

33. Repair to bathroom, and grab clean towel from rack.

34. Sweep Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend off floor, harshly curtailing second game of “Prison” in ten minutes, and swaddle Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend in towel.

35. Insert buttered pill between Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend’s mouth, and gently but firmly clamp shut.

36. Wait ninety seconds, gently rubbing throat of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.
37. Watch as pink and yellow liquid oozes from mouth of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

38. Place Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend on floor.

39. Open fridge, retrieving remainder of Tesco Finest Honey Roast Ham, chicken curry leftovers, spare ribs and kabano sausages (six pack). Open all packaging, and place on floor.

40. Pick up coat and bag. Wipe hands on corduroy jacket belonging to male owner of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend.

41. Exit house, posting spare keys through letterbox.

42. Receive phone call from owners of Intellectually Challenged Fluffy Cat Resembling Rock Musician Pete Townshend. Answer in high-pitched voice of elderly lady called Joan, from Fife, and profess ignorance of any subject mentioned. When subject of cats comes up, begin to talk about son’s upcoming rowing final. Please note: if actually called Joan, elderly, with rowing champion son, and from Fife in real life, choose different identity.

43. Call phone company and request new numbers.

44. Write note to self on hand: “Locksmith?”.

45. Pour large glass of wine, and run bath.

46. Rummage in bottom of bag, and find bath bomb, bought from popular natural cosmetic company and summarily forgotten about two weeks previously.

47. Gently crumble and add bath bomb to warm, flowing water, savouring aroma.

48. Light candle.

49. Relax into suds, feeling physically and spiritually cleansed, and looking boldly towards future.



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I Can Has Paté... But For How Long?

Latest development in the ongoing saga of Janet and his hyperthyroid pills (Janet is a boy, btw, for newcomers to Under The Paw): it has been decided that submerging the pill in paté is a reliable Trojan device. This seems to be working so far, but I've thought the same with various other tactics that I've used to make him take the pill, and been proved wrong. First there was the Submerging The Pill In Reconstituted Meat method, then the Putting The Pill In A Pat Of Butter method, followed by the truly icky Cutting Open A Chunk Of Meaty Goodness And Putting The Pill Inside That Then Resealing It method. Of course, these have all been usurped at times by the Grabbing Him And Wrapping Him In A Towel And Shoving It Into His Mouth method, but I would, if possible, like to think I'm not the kind of person who would drive one of his pets to leave home for good and tell tales of cruelty to random strangers. Moreover, I wear a lot of t-shirts at the moment, and I don't relish having to repeatedly explain to friends that the state of my lower arm is not the result of self-harming. I have a pea shooter waiting in reserve, recommended to me by my Siamese-owning former neighbour, Bob, which I've used once on Janet and found quite effective (the expression on his face was possibly the most shocked I've seen since the time 8 years ago that he forgot he could fly and decided to jump out of a second storey window in pursuit of a wood pigeon). I hope things don't come to that, but they almost certainly will.

In the meantime, my main problem is a) how much paté actually costs and b) trying to explain to my other cats that, despite what some of my enemies and very good friends might claim, I cannot produce spreadable paste on demand. The latter is proving particularly difficult in the case of Pablo (see below, looking eager and unusually sane), who is currently stalking me on a near-24 hour basis and has taken his fondness for headbutting to new extremes. I mean: I like a friendly nudge from a cat as much as the next ailurophile, but I'm sure there's something wrong when an animal a tenth of your size nuts you so hard he almost sends you sprawling across your kitchen floor.

The Notorious Bird Brothers

Above this text, you see a picture of some foliage. Looks ordinary enough, doesn't it? Not the kind of thing you'd expect to walk past and feel a portentous, lower back-based chill? Yet, at the time of writing, it hides an aural tormentor of quite masterful malevolence (and I'm not talking about the covers band that tends to play at the social club nextdoor around this time of year). Within this foliage, somewhere, lurks the unseen bird that, over the last few weeks, has been making a mockery of my cats. I'm not sure if it actually is a mockingbird in any official sense, but it ought to be made an honorary one, even if it isn't, such is its skill at messing with the feline mind. Put is this way: if Pablo, The Bear, Janet, Shipley, Ralph and Bootsy were to co-author a book with the same title as a famous Harper Lee novel right now, it would definitely not be about racial tension in the Deep South.

I've had birds in my garden before that mimic the sounds of domestic life. At my parents' house when I was a teenager, there was one that could do a pitch perfect impression of our ringing telephone. A couple of years ago, when another Telephone Bird turned up in my current garden, I was unperturbed. And a few months later, when another bird arrived with a cheep that was an almost exact replica of one of Pablo's two meows, I had to admire its moxy. Pablo tends to fluctuate between a panicked squeak and a throaty Rod Stewart warble. Frankly, I would have been more impressed if this bird had managed to replicate the latter sound, but you had to give it its dues for its plucky cover version of the former. Did Pablo - who, as regular readers of this blog will be aware, is not my brainiest cat - go out into the garden and stare about him, bewildered, thinking, "Help! I am being followed around by me!"? Probably. But no doubt he and his step-siblings are even more confused by the latest in the local series of avian mimics, who likes nothing more than to imitate the exact sound of me whistling my cats to tell them it is dinner time.

The Foodwhistle Bird is more sophisticated than its predecessors. Its taunts are not only designed to bamboozle; they are premeditated to seriously mess up a cat's schedule. I still think my cats can just about distinguish between the sound it makes and the sound I make, but it's becoming a close call, in more ways than one. As the wretched skybeast starts its merry tune, they can often be seen bolting through the cat flap and into the kitchen, an eager look on their faces. I, in turn, can be seen looking at them in a bemused fashion, and saying, "What's your problem, morons? Do I look like I've got a beak?" Even when its efforts are less strident, or they're not feeling particularly hungry, I'll see them open one jaded demonic eye in slumber as it begins its call. I'm also wondering if it might be responsible for Ralph's current agitated yowling. Perhaps this is an explanation for why he spends hours standing outside the bedroom window, shouting his own name in terror ("Reeawwwlph!")? Maybe the Foodwhistle bird has whispered in his ear and threatened to imitate him next. Will this be the one thing that tips my tabby's summertime Seasonal Affective Disorder over into full-blown madness? Right now, it seems dangerously possible.

From my point of view, it's also a bit of a bind, as scheduled slop-dispensing has become more important in the weeks since Janet was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. But at the same time, I can't say I'm not intrigued. The local birdlife is clearly evolving in leaps and bounds every month in its mimicry skills. "What comes after The Foodwhistle Bird?" I find myself wondering. The Jeremy Paxman Clearing His Throat On University Challenge Bird? The Seinfeld Slap Bass Bird? The Really Hungry Tiger Bird? I can only conclude that, whatever the case, this could be an interesting time to open the windows and revisit my Pavlovian mealtime experiment with The Knack's My Sharona ...