15.08.2005 00:00 - A'r Dath wedi Scrappo Stevey Bach
Cats are, as I have discovered at the weekend, psychopaths.
By this I mean that they really don't understand that you're another thinking, feeling creature.
This was demonstrated to me on Saturday, by Button, our shared cat. Button loves to be cuddled and stroked. Unfortunately for Button Uncle Steve wasn't playing the game and was not picking up little Button, was he? So Button decided to take matters into his own paws, by leaping up into my arms. Unfortunately I didn't know that I was supposed to catch the rather large cat that was rocketing toward me at speed, and so Button was forced to deploy the grappling irons.
For about three seconds I was supporting the weight of a cat that was attached to my clothes and my flesh via its claws. I registered my discomfort in the standard way, which seemed to surprise Button a bit. I then managed to get my arms round the cat so that he disengaged. A small amount of cuddles later, Button was put firmly back on the floor whilst I went inside for minor repairs. I've got inch-long scratch marks down the front of my chest - and that's from a cat just trying to be friendly.
I wouldn't like to see the sort of damage he can inflict when he means it....
