(a post from Facebook)
“Al, you have cats. So why are you so mean to them in your books?”
Oh, I don’t know… how about this bitch, Sally. The nutter who gets the zoomies at 4am for no reason, who will sleep at my daughter’s feet then run up the bed and over her head when I try to put her in the garage, who will look at me, meow loudly to be let out, and then walk away when I open the door. Or, how about today, when she was hiding in a box in the garage when we left to take the kid to school… so I stopped the car to let her in the house and she bolted, for no apparent reason, across the road and down the drain. Where she stayed underground for TWELVE HOURS! And when I ended up flat on my belly on the drain under the neighbour’s car trying to entice her out, the little bitch began purring and rubbing herself against the concrete walls (it was by torchlight so I guess romantic 🤷♂️). I could almost reach her but not enough to make a grab (I “could have” got her tail but didn’t by the way because I’m a fucking delight!) Then when I knocked on the door to ask old mate to move his ute he (sleepily) said “that cat?” and the little slag was waiting at our front door. So yeah, maybe that’s why I’m mean to cats in my story. Oh, and Sally is the nice one. Nyx is the bitch.