Bad Cat

I’ve just been reading the news on the BBC. It’s funny, there’s rarely anything about Australia on there. Even Papua New Guinea gets more news coverage, though to be fair, those stories usually involve Australia in some way. Yet Australians seem to think that Australia is world power number 2, after the US. Australia is America’s number 1 ally! It’s kind of cute. But then, it does make me wonder, are we British similarly deluded when we think Tony Blair is Bush’s right hand man. I think the answer to that is no.

This weekend was a bit of a non-event. My very own right hand man got sick with flu – as opposed to a cold that he thinks is flu, and was really quite ill on Saturday. So I was running round Sydney doing all the household shopping on my own, and had to take care of him. I didn’t mind though. He’s sort of sweet when he’s ill! The cat decided that it would take up a vigil and sat next to him on the sofa for the entire weekend, and proceeded to sleep nearly the whole time. Except for one memorable moment when I wandered into the kitchen to find her crouched on the counter, licking at the roast chicken I had cooling there. Of course, I then harried her out of the house. This morning I caught her up there as well. She fixed me with a cool, level stare that said “I’m going to make a point of this.” Once again I chased her out, screaming, and scrubbed down the surface with tea tree oil. Honestly, I know I’m a pushover for that cat, but does she really think she can wear me down to the point where I’ll tolerate a cat strolling around the kitchen surfaces and sampling our dinners whenever it takes her fancy? Sometimes I think she has a most unnatural intelligence, but at times like these, I’m not so sure.