Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Larry the new cat at No. 10 Downing Street

Some time ago I wrote about my cat Nera wanting the job as house cat at the home of the British Prime Minister, David Cameron.

Cat required at Downing Street

She did not get the job, but Larry, a cat chosen from the Battersea Cat's home. However, it does not seem to have been a good choice. Read following newspaper article
Downing Street defends Larry the Cat

Of course, my cats were not happy.

“I told you he was an impostor“ and Nera cat stamped her right paw three times on the ground to prove her point. She was annoyed.

“Come on Nera” said her sister Tabby “be honest for once in your feline life. You are just annoyed because you didn’t get the job.”

“That is not true Tabby. I did write a letter applying for the job, but had second thoughts and decided not to accept.”

“Nera, I don’t remember you getting a letter from the British Prime Minister with a firm offer. The only letters arriving in this house written in English are for Mrs. Human. I am sure if one had arrived for you Mrs. Human would have told you.”

“Of course Mrs. Human gave me a letter from the Prime Minister telling me I was in the narrow choice for the job, but then this mangy tom cat turned up and got the job.”

“It was a poor little cat with no home Nera, came from the Battersea cats home and had no human to own.”

“Poor little cat, my paw Tabby. He is an impostor. He ran away from his humans and smuggled himself into the cats’ home; pushed his way up front when the Downing Street people came looking for a cat for the Prime Minister. In any case he cannot even catch a fly, let alone a mouse or rat. Tom cats are hopeless. They just sleep around and get fat on tinned food.”

“Excuse me Nera” and Fluffy made an entrance. “You can take that last remark back. We tom cats are very good at catching mice. I have eaten many since deciding to live with Mrs. Human.”

“Did someone say something? Oh, it’s you Fluffy. Yes well it is true you have eaten many, but it was me and Tabby that caught them; typical tom!” said Nera

“You know Fluffy, for once Nera is right. Tom cats are hopeless mice catchers. You only have to look at those stupid lions lazing around while their women go hunting and bring up the kittens.” Tabby was serious.

“Yes, Fluffy, go and play with a ball of wool or something more appropriate for your intelligence.”

“Nera, just one question. Did you start the whispering campaign?”

“Of course not, Fluffy. If I have something to say I say it out loud. Perhaps I might have sent an e-mail to David telling him not to trust that new cat. Keep him locked up and don’t let him know what is really going on in No. 10. It might be that the cat was placed in the cat’s home by Nick Clegg’s grandmother. She paid the lady a bribe at Battersea to suggest that Larry is the best mouser they had to offer.”

“The cat’s called Larry? But that is a name for a lamb, not a fully grown male tom cat.” Answered Tabby.

“I don’t really care” said Nera “who wants to live at No. 10 Downing Street? Those rats feel at home there for a reason. They love to live in places where smelly rumours go around and life is based on lies. No, I am glad I didn’t get the job.”

“Of course you are right Nera” said Tabby “and who wants to live on smoked salmon and caviar. You only get indigestion from all that stuff. I suppose we are much better off with that dry pellet food stuff we get.”

And Tabby, Nera and Fluffy made a circle with the bodies twice and sunk down into a sleep. Nera dreaming of a life of luxury where she would have servants to wait on her every need, Fluffy dreaming of being the biggest rat and mice catcher even if he was a Tom and Tabby just dreaming of being a normal cat telling Nick Clegg everything that David Cameron was up to behind his back.

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