Nowhere Near The You-Know-Where

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellows,

The big pet store is only about 10 minutes walk from my office. I walked along there meaning to get the little guys some different flavours of cat food. But because I am me I also managed to walk out with a cat drinking fountain, some catnip mice and some feathers on a stick.

It was the feathers on a stick that bothered me. They didn't come in a bag, so I was forced to walk right through town carrying feathers on a stick. I mean. They are perfectly innocent toys for cats. But if you don't know that I have cats. And if your mind is anything like mine...

Let's just say I worried the whole time that people might think I had just walked out of the Big Adult Saucy Fun Emporium and that  I was carrying items for Dubious Uses. And these things are not subtle. I was attracting a lot of attention. "These are just CAT TOYS," I wanted to tell innocent passers-by. "They are FOR CATS! Really!! They haven't been ANYWHERE NEAR my wife's tutley!"

I didn't do that. I suspect it would have exacerbated the situation. It didn't help that the bigger of the two sticks - the one with the prominent feather - was called the "Wild Thing". Now there's a name that can be misinterpreted. The other was called the "Wispy Bouncer". 

No. I'm unable to make anything rude out of that. Maybe you people can do something with it.

So there I was, gripping my Wild Thing as I went down the street. I was worried in case a sudden wind should whip it out of my hand and take someone's eye out. Maybe it is my innate paranoia, but I thought I sensed teenagers giggling. Old people tutting. Mothers telling their children to avert their eyes. And some middle-aged women looking at me pensively.

"Away with you!" I wanted to say. "I don't want you rubbing yourself up against my Wispy Bouncer!"

Oh, there you go. I managed it.

I blame "50 Shades of Grey" you know. People are much more pervy-minded these days. The irony being that I am staid, nay boring when it comes to Naughty Fun. I really don't do anything "out there". I mean, I'm sure we've all tried handcuffs at one time or another -

- And here I'm hoping you are all nodding - 

- But I thought they were sort of dull. I think it is because I lack the training of a classical actor. I can't play-act. I think you are supposed to lie there helpless saying, "Oh no! Please don't do rude things to me!" in a convincing way. But my heart was not in it. I think I might have asked the other person if she would mind scratching my nose.

So I don't know why I had a guilty conscience as I walked home flapping my feathers. Even if I DID have indecent ideas for the cat toys it would be far too dangerous to follow through. Let me explain. When we first got Jasper as a kitten, the cat rescue bloke delivered him with Feathers on a Stick. 

The cat rescue bloke gave the feathers to Er Indoors and she started playing with Jasper. He waggled his little hairy bottom and pounced and pounced and POUNCED*.

"Oh he's FAR more active than THAT," said Cat Rescue Guy. And before Er Indoors could say anything more about it, he snatched the Feathers on a Stick away from her and started doing CRAZY patterns in the air with it.

Jaspers pupils DILATED like saucers. He lost all sense of where he was. He drew his claws, released his muscles and SPRANG.

"The last thing I saw was a kitten-shaped silhouette coming right at me in slow-motion," said Er Indoors later. 

I watched in horror as Jasper Kitten attached himself to HER FACE and SLID down. 

It was one of those moments where you try to keep your own calm because you don't want to panic the other person. 

"Oh. Er. You might want to just go to the bathroom," I think I said. Because that sounded better than, "SWEET JESUS YOU'VE BEEN DISFIGURED BY A KITTEN."

She had a claw-cut that ran from the corner of one of her eyes right the way down to her MOUTH. It was P*SSING blood. 

Cat Rescue Idiot (who dressed like Steve Irwin and I think he thought he was him) suddenly went very white. He excused himself and left in a hurry. With bloody good reason.

Er Indoors also retained her calm though. She didn't want to upset the new kitten. And anyway, it wasn't Jasper's fault. She went to work the next day and endured the nickname "Scarface" for six months but we never blamed the kitty. Meanwhile, Jasper settled in fine. But we know not to get him over-excited because he seriously loses all sense of where he is. For example, he ran straight into a door this morning because there were birds outside.

So I won't be getting TOO wild with the Wild Thing. And it won't be going anywhere near the you-know-where. I could lose a Wispy Bouncer.

S.

* Jasper, not Cat Rescue Guy.