Don't wake me, unless you have chicken.

Me? Alone in the kitchen? In the middle of the night? With a catnip bag sandwiched between nigella and Jamie behind heavy glass doors in a wall cupboard? What do you expect? I am cat. I can get to it even when you hide it in the blender on top of the kitchen units. And I can sniff out food 20 houses away, during a tornado. I am cat. And when I take the mouse into the house. It shall always be 3 in the morning. And I will always meow to announce my triumph. Loudly. Relentlessly. Until you come to see how clever I am, then I shall growl and run away with my mouse. I am cat. And that seat. The comfy one you bought for you to sit and drink tea and watch the garden and the birds. That's not your seat. That's my seat. Where I can look at the birds. And lick my bum. I am cat.