I’ve had it all planned very carefully. First, turn up looking pathetic, preferably arrange for snow to stick to the fur on my back, miaow a lot, then embiggen my eyes to maximum cuteness, purr loudly and accept the proffered chicken, without seeming too needy.
Result. They let me in, fed me regularly, though I still had to keep nipping next door where she served Whiskas, but it was a place I could call home. Then, thanks to my cunning feline hypnotism thing, staring and blinking slowly, I persuaded them to get rid of the stupid gas fire and have a proper stove so I could stretch out on the rug and toast, winning the admiration of every visitor. Bliss.
The catflap came later, I pretended I didn’t know how to use it, just to freak them out. Did a poo or two inside including a rather spectacular one in the bath, so they knew who was boss. Mwa ha ha.
But I came in the other day to find another cat in MY bedroom. A blue-eyed fluffy-furred girlie cat, trying to inveigle her way into the hearts of MY humans, after all the work I’ve done. I was having none of that, out she went.
Then, oh the cheek of it, she turned up again today. I had it out with her in the garden, showed her who was boss, my humans were very impressed, they seem to think I’m sedentary and stupid. That’s just what I WANT them to believe. It worked too, they’re now as proud of me as punch, whatever that means. At least I think they are, when they open their mouths, all I can hear is blah blah blah blah blah…..