Wednesday, 1 September 2010
Guest Cat Of The Month For September: Taz
Tazzy, Tazbert, OhmygodthebloodycathasthrownupontheduvetAGAIN
I can’t believe you’re asking me that. 17, but it’s just a number, OK?
Hello? Did I say you could stop stroking me?
Headbutting people until they stroke me, taunting our stupid dog
What constitutes a perfect evening for you?
It’s raining, Tamsyn is home and there’s a fire in the grate. After an hour or so of intense stroking, I’ll dine on tuna and milk. Maybe I’ll freak the rabbits out with a death-stare or two. Then I’ll sit at the kitchen window and watch the dog snivel as she gets colder and wetter, until she succumbs to pneumonia. But I’m sure that’s pretty much everyone’s perfect evening.
Thinly sliced cheddar; medium maturity, for preference.
Defining moment of your life?
Death leap from a second floor window to land on next door’s terrier. Actually, it was more of an accidental tumble, but don’t tell anyone that.
Duh. The dog. Seriously, she makes George Bush look like Einstein.
If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines, what would it be?
Round up the dog population and give them one squeaky toy between the lot of them, then sit back and watch the fur fly. Failing that, I’d make those cheesy little cat treat things free on the NHS. They’re so moreish.
If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?
I’d like to meet George Clooney. He looks like he knows how to tickle under a girl’s chin just right. Mrrrrrrraaaaaooooow!
Which one of the cats in Under The Paw would you like to be stuck in a lift with?
I’m more of a lone-kitty type but if I had to choose, I’d say The Bear. We’re both a little challenged in the eye department and he looks like my namesake, the Tasmanian Devil.
I don’t remember much before Tamsyn and I became flat-mates but I do know those early years together were pretty wild. I lost count of the number of times I woke up on top of the wardrobe with no collar on and no idea how I got up there! Then The Screamer came along and it was all nappies and early nights. Before I knew it, I was being squashed up against a sticky face and having tea parties with Barbie.
Then the other cats moved in and I entered my darkest days. Those kitties were bad-ass cats and I preferred to roam the neighbour’s garden than come home. It was a relief when Tamsyn left the bozo she was with and it was just the two of us again. And The Screamer, of course, but by this time she’d grown out of tea parties and I didn’t mind her so much.
Everything was ticketty-boo until the dog came. I think the stupid creature actually thinks I like her. If only she knew I spend every waking moment planning her death. I mean, what kind of animal wags its tail when it’s happy? Once she’s out of the way, I can go back to doing what I do best; helping Tamsyn write her books. What, you really thought she wrote them on her own? Don’t make me laugh – I’m her right-hand cat!
Taz (and Tamsyn) write books for children and teens – find out more at www.tamsynmurray.co.uk