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Meet Manasse

For a while it seemed as if World War III had erupted in my living room, but instead of all-out battle, there was little skirmishes here and there...and the winner, on points, must be the latest addition to my household. Manasse may be little, he's also fearless and of a persevering frame of mind. Perhaps I should have called him David instead...Anyway, he seems to be carving out a place for himself quite steadily, and the girls don't seem to have much of an answer. At first, Leila and Clio were united in their indignation, but by the first morning, Clio started to make overtures after she saw that Manasse shared her interest in chasing little balls of rubber around the room. Leila soon put a stop to her sister's traitorous behaviour, though; and ever since then Clio's been absolutely horrid to my little boy. Things came to a head the night before last when fur started flying everywhere...and then in the morning Leila turned up for breakfast with Manasse in tow. Last night, she allowed him to sleep on the bed with her and me, while Clio kept a jealous watch from on top of the bookcases. When I come home from a few hour's shopping, it's the girls who have gone into hiding while Manasse awaits me on the couch.

He has boundless energy and gets into all kinds of scrapes, but he doesn't seem to care whether he gets stuck here or falls on his head there, and doesn't cry. I remember when Clio came to live with us, she meowed and tried to escape by seeing if she could dig a hole in the parquetry constantly for the first 10 days; but fortunately, Manasse exhibits none of this frantic kind of behaviour -- because I can also remember that at the time, Clio's was driving me round the bend. I can't tell you what a relief it was when she finally shut the hell up, and came to sit on my lap.

For now, Manasse is too busy exploring his new environment to sit still for long. But he is friendly and not at all shy of me or other people, and he seems to have reached some sort of understanding with Leila, which is most important as she's the No. 1 cat in my house.

I'm still happy to be excused from work for a while, but I have just realised there is a terrible downside to my time off: I'm spending money hand over fist, and I don't know what on. I'm frittering it away on unneeded things: like yesterday, I spent a whopping 7 euros in one of those trendy coffee and tea 'galleries' that seem to have sprung up everywhere in the last few years, on just 200 grams of freshly imported tarry lapsang souchong. And I don't even own a teapot!



May. 2nd, 2004 08:38 am (UTC)
Oh, he sounds darling! (I think a kitten is such a guilty pleasure -- I personally subscribe to the "adopt the least attractive older animal at the shelter, and leave the kittens for everyone else" school of thought, but getting a kitten again is SO tempting!) My Andy is dying by inches of kidney failure, and in a couple of years (please God) I may succumb to the lure of a kitten.
May. 4th, 2004 02:55 am (UTC)
Only once, about 6 months after Aloysius had died and no one I knew even remotely had litters, I entertained the thought of getting an older cat in from the pound. I went there and fell in love with all the cats -- couldn't make up my mind which one to take, and so I left again without having achieved my purpose.

Kittens are much easier to deal with. They don't give you a choice; it's they who decide whether they'd like to come home with you or not. Or at least, that's the way it's always been for me, ever since my first cat Emil first made a beeline for me!