This is a story about a cat. However don’t get me wrong, this is no ordinary cat story. It is not like all those other cat stories that you may have come across in your lifetime. This is a cat story with purpose. It is a story about passion for life, responsibility and most importantly, like all good stories, about love. So who is this cat that we place our undivided attention? The name of this most auspicious of cats is ‘Snookums’.
At first glance Snookums appears to be a normal cat, with normal black cat fur and normal yellow cat eyes, he even lives in a normal middleclass cat neighbourhood. However, if you look a little closer you can see that there is a certain dignity and poise to him. He doesn’t consider himself one of the clowder, even though he is a cat. He is not the type of cat that becomes satisfied with just taking food and affectionate tummy rubbings from his human masters. Instead he is the type of cat that actually thinks about his life and that of his fellow cats. Of course, his fellow cats don’t appreciate Snookums’s efforts to enlighten them nor do any of the other cats attempt to break out of their stereotypical and predictable cat lifestyles.
Essentially, Snookums is lonely. There are no other cats to share his highly developed cat thoughts with. The others are only interested in who can lick themselves to the highest sheen and meow the most mind numbing meows. So Snookums just ponders on day-by-day and tries to ignore this great, sad abyss within his little but quite unique cat mind.
But enough meowing and lazy preening about, time to get to the story.
Our story begins in a typical middle class neighbourhood on a beautiful sunny day. You know the kind, where all the houses look the same, there is that smell of freshly mown grass and everyone in the street acts depressingly cheerful to each other while also spying on each other every chance they get. I think it’s a weekend…not that this has any relevance to the story however.
As the newspaper boy, performing his weekly route, rides his bike past a particular suburban house, a very distinctive series of sounds emanates from an open window.
“MEEOOOOWWW……MEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW……..MEEEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW……..MEOW”
“OOOH Mr. Snickle Futts is hungry, oh my poor baby here you go….Oh I WUB U so WUCH!” said pathetic human ‘master’. Snookums roles his eyes as he watches this depressing daily ritual from his carefully chosen position on the windowsill. His house mate, Mr. Snickle Futts, was the exact opposite to himself. In fact Mr. Snickle Futts was just like all the other cats, so very disgustingly…well…cat like. Their human was also very humanish. Basically this means the human was easily manipulated and about as intelligent as a talking grape…but only just.
To be continued…?
