clean for kitty

Always keep your rooms tidy and your dress presentable, my mother used to tell us girls, just in case the Queen Mother decides to pop in for tea. She had the right to be so silly, for one day when my mother was still a young impressionable child, the Queen’s mum actually did pop in for tea. And she stayed the night too! Or at least that’s how the story goes.

Well, I have another reason to be clean: Au Lait. My silly cat in a strike against hunger (I’m trying to help her lose some weight) has taken to licking—nay eating—my clothes if I forget to put them away. At first it was just ribbons and plastic bags, then woolly hats. Now if I leave the closet doors open, she’ll start hacking on the hems of my lovely skirts at random. Dear God, if the Queen Mother ever does come to tea, please don’t let her wear lace.

I found Au Lait chewing on the sleeve of my favorite jacket today. Does it taste good? I can’t imagine that it does. I said, “No!” very sternly (just how I learned in self-defense class) and squirted her with the water gun. That’s the fifth time in two days and now I’m beginning to think she likes it. Am I creating a mutant? The other night she almost tried to jump in the bath. Who ever heard of a sea-faring kitty? In any case, I still love the little beast dearly. I need her and she needs me.

And now for the moment at least we’re both clean.