Curried Cat (Not ME!)

Max told me this story and I had to laugh. I wasn't there but he made it sound so good I said I'd tell you. Apparently the two legs were having a new kitchen fitted at their old house. They finally managed to reclaim the house and were beginning to revert to a life more ordinary. The cooker had regained its rightful place adjacent to the gas pipe. The washing machine had returned to its functional base adjacent to the water pipe and the male two leg was reclining with his clay pipe.

Everything was going smoothly until Saturday evening when it was decided in a moment of rashness to order a take-away curry. The house at that point was nearly normal but for the final edging to the tiles and carpet. The tiler had announced he would return after Easter to do the 2 minute job of laying said strips.

The female two leg decided that they should eat aforementioned curry on their laps as she wanted to watch some bizarre film so he dutifully obliged. The doorbell rang and the curry man was there with steaming bag and a broad smile. The male two leg took the smile and left him standing with a steaming bag but that's another story. Max is quite amusing when he gets started.

Division of labour in that household is a strict regime and female's role is to serve from the cartons whilst male opens them and washes up the empties. A streamlined operation that has been the envy of many a foreign nation seeking guidance on co-operation.

This Saturday night was no exception. The opening of plastic packages, transfer of contents to receptacles and scouring of containers went like clock-work. The male two leg was up to his arms in Fairy liquid as his wife took the first tray of offerings to his seat in the lounge to await the ritual devouring process. At this point I should mention Max and Sebastain had a climbing platform - a monstrous construction upon which they liked to perch to watch the two legs feed. Both cats were asleep in male two legs' chair; the female two legs' task in these circumstances was to place the tray on the accompanying foot-stool, evacuate the cats and summon his presence.

The house rang with heard a plaintiff scream followed by more abusive language than Max ever heard from his tours of the building sites of the realm. The male approached the lounge to find his wife balancing at a 45 degree angle with the cat climbing frame resting on her shoulder and the tray of his dinner looking somewhat forlorn but relatively intact. Sebastian - a fine feline example of 20 lbs. - was perched on top of the frame at a similar 45 degrees looking decidedly uncomfortable. It appeared he had made the transition from the chair to top of frame in one bound only to knock the construction off balance and onto the female as she approached.

Male two leg issued a lecture on care in the work place and commented that he preferred the raisa over his food rather than over his seat. His seat fortunately was a leather (well leatherette!) recliner so would wipe down relatively cleanly. It was at that point that they realised that Max had disappeared. Max you will remember is the smaller of the family, wont to sleep a lot and carries an "out of this world" attitude. In fact he is the feline version of Joe Pasquale.

The male two leg raised his eyes from the raisa-ridden seat and glanced at the door to the stairs. There sat Max, a bemused look on his face, a Mohican strip of orange along his head and a blob of raisa running between his eyes and down his nose. He had been asleep in the chair when Sebastian's vault to freedom occurred and had clearly taken full force of the flying raisa.

Max said the film was rubbish and their curry was cold by the time they got to eat it

Wish I had seen that - the situation - not the film. By the way this is Max and Sebastian