Feline acrobatics

In my experience, there is no other domestic animal that conducts itself with grace, poise and dignity like a cat does. A cat demands attention when it enters a room; it saunters gracefully as it moves and then has the uncanny ability to look into a human’s eyes and express such total disdain with just its facial expression. Cats seem to be in control at all times, conducting themselves with precision and elegance. They seem to think themselves better than the rest of the mere mortals that inhabit this earth.

Last night I was sitting up in bed watching TV while The Midnight Cat lay curled up in a ball at the foot of my bed, snoozing. As I sat watching, I started absent-mindedly stroking her with my left foot. I slowly stroked her outstretched legs and her tummy. After about five minutes she stirred and looked up at me from her slumber, shooting me the trademark disdainful look that only a cat can pull off. I realised that my absent-minded foot rubbing had crossed the line from appropriate cat patting to an invasive sleep-depriving violation.

Suddenly, with no warning at all, she attacked my foot with her four paws; she grabbed my foot with her front paws and dug the claws into my skin while she kangaroo kicked my heel with her back paws. The action of the kicking forced her body to be propelled backwards across the bed. She was on the edge of the bed. It was at this point that her dignity and grace went out the window as she realised she was going to fall off the edge. Cats can jump effortlessly, leaping from heights that are comparatively huge distances, with that same sophistication they always exhibit; this was not like that. I could see her face when she realised she was going to fall, watching the horror as she dug her front claws into my foot and tried to use her back legs to grab onto the mattress.

I laughed as this graceful little creature, formerly so poised and commanding, fell from the bed and back down to earth where us mere mortals walk so humbly.