It was cold this morning leaving my flat, probably any other flat would have been the same. And the cat was sat on my car bonnet, keen not to be disturbed.
I said hello, and he/she said nothing. He/she/it is a cat, but still they could have made the effort. “You’re gonna have to move, I need to go to work.” I stated shrugging apologetically.
Maybe the cat didn’t understand me, maybe because it’s a cat, but that excuse was wearing thin. A push of the button on my key and the locks unlocked and finally the cat stirred, stretching like a cat does. A slow rotation of its head, and the cat’s eyes made the welcome effort of catching mine. With a confused and irritated cat like look, it asked me what I thought I was doing.
“Get off my car, I have to drive to work.”
The unimpressed cat looked unimpressed and told me how unimpressed it was. “I’m unimpressed” it said.
“Why are you unimpressed?”, I said talking to a cat.
Carefully, with the speed of a sleepy cat, the sleepy cat rose to its feet and sat down upright on the cold bonnet surveying the countless parked cars parked on the street in which it mainly slept. “Why do you have to use this one, there’s all those other ones I’m not resting on.”
“You wouldn’t understand, you’re a cat.”, and I sat down in the drivers seat and started the engine.
The cat stood and looked at me through the windscreen. “I will leave this car now. Not because I want to, and not because you want me to, but because I have a dignity as a cat that you as not a cat will never understand or enjoy.”
“Get the f*** off my car!”, I shouted beeping the horn; and slowly the cat dismounted and wandered off to find a Vauxhall.