I suppose to most people the term, "Happy Hour" is one usually heard in a Pub. Not so, in this house. Happy hour strikes with deadly accuracy around about 11:30PM or anytime between 11:00PM and 12:00AM. It's a no-holds-barred free-for-all in which there is no winner. My three beloved cats, Fatty, Lilah and Ming are past masters at this game and the only advice we can give any guests is: cover your glass and duck! Under the circumstances, we're really very lucky to have friends who don't mind having an enquiring paw shoved in their faces while trying to eat. Some of them actually don't mind allowing some fool cat asking for a "share" in a glass of wine or trying to steal their napkins during the meal. I think, since we got the cats, that we are incredibly lucky to have any friends left at all! Some of them don't even mind the occasional cat tearing up behind the chair they're sitting on and landing with no grace or dignity. Mainly, they're just stopping long enough to check where they can launch themselves next! The friends I pity the most are the ones who actually stay over for a few days. Those are the poor innocents that my cats will not leave alone. Any luggage must be thoroughly checked out and scrutinised for a strange bit of cat fur, all discarded clothing must also be checked and if it passes muster, it might be squirrelled out after "lights out". Then, of course, there is the Aladdin's Cave. The true kitty trophy. The ultimate kitty toy……The DIVAN! This can be bounced on, climbed in, crawled under and all sorts of cool things, but I still think that "Happy Hour" is still the true test of friendship.

Very few people could stand this lot when they get going. It's like a battalion of soldiers in hob-nailed boots pounding down the passage "posse style".They come hurtling from different corners of the house and just go nuts! I've even had the posse mistake the entry-way by a whisker and end up tripping themselves up, much to our joy and their disgust. (Needless to say, that bit of Happy Hour was curtailed so they could address the problem of lost dignity)! When this Happy Hour thing hits it's zenith, they go into overdrive, screeching through rooms, over chairs and tables, up the curtains, around and around the house at top speed. I can't stop the idiots! No-one can! You just have to wait until they wear themselves out.

As alluded to in a previous letter, my poor old computer gets a heck of a bashing. It's had countless cups of coffee spilled on it, it's nearly overheated because my fool cats found it was warm on top of the monitor and they always hang about me when I'm working. NOW, dammit, I have to make sure I either don't start work until the little treasures have done the Happy Hour Havoc or start much earlier. As I speak, Fats is flat on his back on the sofa, Ming is lying full length in front of the radiator and Lilah has gone to bed. (Funniest thing I ever saw was their eyes bugging out when they saw the radiator for the first time! Nearly gave them a heart attack. Now, after a few singed tails and burnt noses, they've figured out that it's HOT.)

I think I'm going to have to seriously think up some cat psychiatry for them. They're not well, the idiots……and that brings me to something else! God has a sense of humour! True! ALL of my cats are odd. I think the Creator makes the ones with defects especially for me. You know…."Oh look! Another screwy one, we'll send this one down to that loser family in Australia. They'll take it!"

~sigh~. Oh well. I'll just predecease them. That'll fix ‘em!

Copyright © Jo Gray
June 26, 2002