Word count 32,173
So, as I’ve posted before, I have a cat. He’s a gorgeous wee tabby that I got from a rescue shelter about a year and a half ago. I love him and could quite possibly talk about him all the time but he’s not really that interesting and would get really boring really quickly.
As much as I love him it has come to my attention that he is in fact a sexist pig. I guess it shouldn’t be too much of a surprise, his name is Fonzie and he was therefore named after someone who didn’t have the most enlightened view on women.
My flatmate and her cat moved in recently, and her cat is a gorgeous black female cat called Nala. Now my Fonzie seemed very intent on laying down the law and making sure that Nala knew that HE was the head of the house and that she was quite clearly subservient, being a quiet and laid back sort of cat Nala was pretty happy to oblige.
This all seemed like normal feline behaviour of the resident cat asserting his authority – until yesterday. Yesterday my flatmate was out the front of the house saying goodbye to a friend and both cats were out the front. Nala was sitting quietly, minding her own business when Fonzie snuck up behind her and smacked her on the arse. So it’s official – my cat is a sex pest. I despair, I really do, I didn’t raise him to go around smacking bottoms like some sexist, lothario.
But then he is a Mamma’s boy and you have to watch them.