Feline Tyranny

The bad day becomes a bad night with bravery on no-one's agenda. Next chapter to Michael and the Lollipop.

Things I don’t fully understand #428: The internet’s obsession with cute cats. Let me be clear, cats are not cute. I’m fairly sure each individual kitty embodies the latent psychology of the Yorkshire Ripper and combines it with the passionate indifference of your average bathroom carpet. My dad is the only person I ever saw get along well with my own childhood cat, and I’ve always assumed this was due my pet’s considered respect for the old man’s own apathy toward it.

Being someone that often has rather too much time on his hands, I’ve spent a great deal of it considering this issue. I wonder if it isn’t possible that scientists have made huge mistakes in their evaluation of animal hierarchies. Personally I consider cats to be the apex predator. Think it through, this is an animal that manages to manipulate its human ‘owner’ into providing food, warmth and shelter and while simultaneously, completely opting out of its own implied contractual obligations to return affection in any way that meaningfully fits the phrase. I imagine that every night each individual kitty returns to the mother-ship to receive instructions on when precisely their take-over should be launched.

Now would be one of those times when I could fully indulge myself in such musings, surrounded as we were by at least four of the things. Fortunately, or unfortunately I was currently distracted by the pathetic whining of my companion Michael, still clearly lamenting his rejection even in his state of restless sleep. I considered briefly waking him so that he could share my agitation, but given the choice between the cats and another of Michael’s tantrum’s I was ready to cover myself in ravioli and step outside.

I should back up. Being a physically deformed, misanthropic pessimist there was absolutely no-way I was going to launch myself into the unknown crucible of a badly organised road trip without contingency plans. Two sleeping bags, a tent and several cans of bolognaise ravioli seemed ample by way of supplies. If Bear Grills could survive for days in the desert living only on elephant dung, I was sure this would be more than enough to see us through any eventuality. Being something of a self-confessed idiot, I had further imagined I would have hitherto dormant man skills in the areas of camp fires and hunting. Somehow these fantasies had managed to ignore my distinct lack of hunting equipment, experience or the potentially devastating effects that heavy rain could have upon my ability to coax a flame from hastily gathered tree branches.

Still, as damp as the tent now was, both inside and out, it definitely represented an upgrade on our former position in the middle of a rural Oxfordshire road. 45 minutes it had taken me to encourage, cajole and eventually - virtually drag Michael out of his melancholy tantrum, and given his disastrously poor ability in tent construction I couldn’t help wondering whether or not it had been worth the effort.

All of which brings me back to the cats. Either these are supremely evil and well organised agents of the devil, or I am the Cassanova of bad luck. In the latter case, it seems that cold bolognaise ravioli is the best cat-nip since, well, cat-nip. Each of these fluffy devils meandered menacingly around our poorly constructed domicile, scratching and pawing at the canvass while mewing encouragement to one another. Either they really don’t like wet windy nights either, or they had taken it upon themselves to victimise and torture me for nothing more than a cold can of pasta.

By the minute, more seemed to arrive and threaten to overwhelm us in a fury of fur and claws. What the hell kind of relationship do you people in Oxfordshire have with these things anyway? Are you raiding pet stores across the country and setting these flee balls free to wander the country-side? It does strike me as the sort of place where people are affluent enough to care more about animal rights than human rights, but honestly they are taking on the proportions of a feline army, you've created a monster.

The torment ended abruptly enough, but perhaps not as reassuringly as one would hope. The screaming of something bigger, maybe a fox, put paid to my well-considered theory placing cats as apex predators and forcing our harassers into a hasty retreat. While the stealthy beast never threatened our temporary abode, it had done more than enough to fill my head with half remembered stories of foxes eating babies and such. Surely one wouldn’t attack two fully grown men? It didn’t seem likely, but I was absent when the bravery genes were allocated. Between the, by now, heavily saturated tent and the spectre of being at the centre of my very own ‘fox-hunt’, I can’t say I slept particularly well. Morning light at least brought some reassurance, in that if the fox had actually been a werewolf as my imagination had been attempting to convince me, it would have had to withdraw by now.

Reviews

[Jack Wolfe]

An interesting introduction, I assume there’s more ‘story’ to be had due to the notes above. (You may want to set this into a book when publishing that way the reader can simply press the next chapter tab to continue reading).

The story read well, fluent, no hold-up in train of thought, and the narrator/main character comes off as likeable if not real. I couldn’t agree more with his assessment of cats, which helped me to relate to his character, thoughts, and overall demeanor.

I imagine this is set up to be a prologue, as it only sets up premise and character, no real action has taken place, so I’ll reserve my judgment on that aspect until further notice. I found one line that cause me to hesitate, and really its only because I can’t help but notice, most would read pass it, call it my pet-peeve, “The torment ended abruptly enough, but perhaps not as reassuringly as one would hope.” I’m a huge advocate for omitting ‘LY’ adverbs, and in this line you have two. (Again most wouldn’t notice it, but I personal(ly) can’t help it). Another small problem would be, you hinted at his nervousness of the creature of the night, but I really didn’t get a sense of underlining fear, e.g. lying awake scaring himself. (Perhaps this was intentional.) Thanks for the read; I’ll do my best to get to chapter two.

[Farm Donkey]

I think you're right about setting this into a book, I'm still figuring my way around the site to be honest. This chapter is a bit of a filler, intended to follow 'Michael and the Lollipop' but I agree it doesn't really work on its own. I'm not sure it works as it is, with the other chapter so I think I need to look at it again, but I want to blast out a few chapters before I stop to consider a plan for where I want to take it. Right now I guess I'm just amusing myself a little bit. Still, I found your thoughts really helpful, it's especially nice to hear from a fellow grammar Nazi. I do think that things should be written correctly and there a couple of things in their that don't sit quite right including the point you mention, though I hadn't noticed it before. I often find it quite difficult to have a detached perspective on my own stuff, until much later. Anyway, I'm rambling! Thanks very much for taking the time to read it and sharing your thoughts. I hope you'll have a look at the other two chapters I've written (both intended for the same book) and let me know what you think about those too.
Thanks again.

[Jack Wolfe]

I will try and get to the next some time today. You say this chapter comes after the next, is there an order I should be reading in?

[Angel Alli]

I really enjoyed your style of writing. It is witty, entertaining, and detailed. I like being able to peer into the mind of the protagonist because it makes the character seem relatable (although I have to disagree on his opinion of cats) and also gives a good look at his personality. However, I did become confused at certain parts(the initial setting, what was happening), but I think better transitions could definitely fix this.

[Delmar Cooper]

I laughed and that was ,I assume, your goal. I laughed because I believe your take on cat behavior is true. Yes, they do return apathy with interest - I won't say affection,

As to your story, I think you need a better transition from generalized observations about cats thence into a tent with a partner. And what ,pray tell, were you two doing in that tent in the first place? Are there no rooms at the inn? Also the reason for the excessive cat population might better come earlier than later in the narrative.

Bottom line. Funny and I enjoyed it. Flee ball should be fur ball?

[Farm Donkey]

Thanks for the review, much appreciated. This is actually a chapter that would be in the middle of the book probably straight after Michael and the Lollipop which is also up and may or may not explain the points you have raised. I agree too though that the context needs firming up a little, might give it a re-write at some point - especially the final paragraph which I can't help but feel is massively underwhelming. Thanks again for taking the time to look at it.