The curry cat

Alleycat’s poisoning and the suffering he endured released certain latent possibilities in his character.   For one thing he’s started to behave high-handedly whenever he can.  It’s his prerogative.   He was always nasty to the dogs, and once he pooed on a guest’s bed but that was quite all right and more or less acceptable.  Since the poisoning though he’s grown demanding and querulous.  Today, for example, when I came in from work he paddled on the plate of curry that the Looking Glass Lady had prepared for my tea.  He stepped in my plate with all four feet because he felt that I was ignoring him.  After he’d trampled my food he jumped on my shoulders and soiled my best shirt and after that he sprang on to the back of our costly sofa and stained an irreplaceable cushion with his curry-tainted pads.  He’s also created a series of chambers for himself in the thickest shrubs in the garden, and he stays there all night and all day and won’t answer my summons or come to my call, and he hides there when he’s done bad things.  That’s what he’s like these days, but I don’t care because he’s Alleycat and I love him.

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