Name Minna (short for Minnaloushe). I’m actually named after a cat in a poem by Yeats—not that I’m boasting, or anything *buffs her claws on the carpet and strikes a sinuous feline pose*
Favourite Pastime Sleeping.. Hunting for yummy things to eat that have been left out on the kitchen bench, like margarine containers (excellent to lick), cheese buns (gotta love those crunchy cheesy toppings), muffins (my favourite are banana choc-chip). Smooching my Feeder and acting all purry and adorable, and then, when that doesn’t work because she’s doing her homework or listening to the iPod, chomping on my Feeder’s ankles and yowling reeeeally loudly to remind her to feed me. Wondering when I’m going to get fed. Mak
ing a nuisance of myself so I will get fed—now! Wolfing down my food in 10 seconds flat. Conveniently forgetting I’ve been fed at all about 10 minutes after my last meal. Sleeping.
Human Slave My Feeder is a teenager and she likes to sleep in most mornings, which is just not on! I can’t tell you how often I’ve had to sneak into her room and remind her it’s time to get up and feed me. I like to do this by jumping on her pillow and yowling in her ear. Or, if I’m stuck outside, I’ve discovered I can wake her up in a biiiig hurry by scraping my claws down her bedroom windowpane. I’m determined that she will be fully trained to my exacting standards, but oh, it’s such a chore. I feel tired just thinking about it. Yawn. Must have a nap....
Favourite Toy My Feeder’s father is my favourite toy IN THE WORLD. He does an excellent imitation of a couch potato when he’s watching TV, and I’m training him not to wince when I jump onto his stomach with my claws extended. He’s perfected the art of drinking a glass of wine while lying down so he doesn’t disturb me any more than he absolutely has to. If he didn’t get home far too late at night to feed me, he might actually be the perfect human.
as the subject for his school speech! I was flattered at first, until I realized it wasn’t a speech about my star-studded past as a feline cover-model and heroine of the bestselling book The Nine Emotional Lives Of Cats. No, it was a tell-all expose! All my little foibles—like the time I went hunting and brought home a delicious piece of stale Madeira cake from the neighbour’s front lawn—were revealed to a bunch of evil Year 7 children. I was a laughing stock! And he got a very good mark for delivering such an amusing speech. Oh, the shame.....
The Cat and the Moon
The cat went here and there
And the moon spun round like a top,
And the nearest kin of the moon,
The creeping cat, looked up.
Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
For, wander and wail as he would,
The pure cold light in the sky
Troubled his animal blood.
Minnaloushe runs in the grass
Lifting his delicate feet.
Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?
When two close kindred meet,
What better than call a dance?
Maybe the moon may learn,
Tired of that courtly fashion,
A new dance turn.
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
From moonlit place to place,
The sacred moon overhead
Has taken a new phase.
Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils
Will pass from change to change,
And that from round to crescent,
From crescent to round they range?
Minnaloushe creeps through the grass
Alone, important and wise,
And lifts to the changing moon
His changing eyes.
~By William Butler Yeats~
