Guest Writer's Cat Of The Week: Spike

Name
Spike

Nicknames
Mr Spike, Spikalike, Spikealicious, His Most Spikealicious King Spike of Spikington (for Sundays), Mr Fluffypants (for being told off)

Theme Tune
Zadok the Priest (the one they use at coronations, royal weddings etc)

Age
7

Owner
Kate Johnson

Catchphrase
“You bow, and taking off your hat, address him in this way: O Cat.”

Brief biography

I was born in humble circumstances, to a single, homeless mother (quite possibly in a stable, who knows). No one knows who my father was, but presumably he was a handsome devil. My sister Sugar and I were adopted by a human who spoiled us rotten, just as she should, and life was entirely pleasant for the first year. But perfection can’t last forever, and a year later the Demon Puppy shattered the peace. The little sister I never wanted. Six months after that, unimaginable tragedy struck when my real sister was killed in a traffic accident. I mourned her for months. So did my humans, until their eyes were caught by a new pair of kittens, Jack and Daisy. The little whippersnappers were, I admit, a distraction from my grief (and the little sods kept nicking my food). After a year or so I even deigned to acknowledge their existence. A little while later those softhearted human dunces took in another cat, a wily little streetfighter who looked like butter wouldn’t melt, and gave her the frankly ridiculous name of Jemima. Look, it’s not that I don’t think girls should learn how to fight, but the wilful fool will keep attacking humans who are perfectly nice to her. I keep trying to teach by patient, wise, peaceful example—never strike your human in fear or anger!--but the little chit won’t listen. Life is, otherwise, peaceful and well-ordered: my humans are well-trained and the food is usually decent. I can come and go as I like, visiting my flock...except that there’s been something wrong with the cat flap lately, because whenever I exit it, I find myself very cold and have to come back in. I want it to be fixed, please, so I can bask in the sunshine and be admired by all passers-by. It’s only fair, after all.

Favourite Habits
Since I am the King of Kings, and a god come to Earth, I pretty much do whatever I want, whenever I want. This mostly involves sleeping, because it’s hard work being this gorgeous. I like to perfect my cute posing skills: my favourites are ‘Here’s My Belly’ and ‘Look! It’s SuperSpike!’. I also quite like hiding in wait for the birds on the front lawn, although how they always spot me I’ve no idea. I like helping my human with her writing: I know she appreciates it when I sit under her chair so she can't move it enough to stand up. It forces her to write more, you see, thereby earning more money to spend on delicious treats for me. I'm considerate like that. I enjoy disrupting humans’ reading time by sitting on their newspapers, and I love helping with Christmas wrapping. It’s not emasculating to appreciate glitter.

What constitutes a perfect evening for you?

A stroll outside if the weather is pleasant. I don’t like the cold and wet, it makes a mess of my perfect fur, and the less said about snow the better (what’s the point of being so physically perfect if no one can damn well see you?). Then I come in and take a seat at the kitchen table to await my evening refreshment. This varies in quality from lovely roast chicken, to fish in a nice sauce, to something frankly disgusting with vegetables. The humans are quite obliging about transferring the food from their own plates to mine, although sometimes I wonder why they bother.

Favourite food
Turkey ham. They buy it specially for me, you know.

Defining moment of your life

They’re all defining, darling. Life is a catwalk.

Any enemies?

Yes. That bloody Demon Puppy. The little insect is only a year younger than me, but does she comport herself with any dignity? Maturity? No, she behaves like the imbecilic infant she once was, and therefore I shall continue to refer to her as a puppy. Noisy, smelly, and if I ever want to enjoy a game of Chase The Human’s Feet With My Claws, she intervenes. I won’t tell you what she did with the catnip mouse. Disgraceful, I call it.

If you could do one thing to make the world a better place for felines what would it be?

Every house should have a cat flap or seven. I like to go and visit my people, you see, because not all of them are lucky enough to have a cat, and I am so magnificent it would be churlish of me to deprive them of my presence. But sometimes I get stuck, like that time I spent two days in a garage.

If you could meet a celebrity who would it be and why?

I’m not sure there’s anyone more exciting than myself. The Queen, perhaps, to try and disabuse her of the idea that those silly little dogs of hers are the best pets. The very notion.

Which one of the cats in Under The Paw and Talk To The Tail would you like to be stuck in a lift with?

Listen, I’m not hugely fond of other cats. They take the attention away from me. I suppose the one who’s always sad looks relatively peaceful, however.

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