“Sweet little cat, please forgive me…”

Forgiveness is not her strong suit…

With two cats who like nothing better than silently turning around your ankles, it’s impossible to avoid stepping on one’s toes once in a while. Literally I mean. Once I made a cut in Pernod’s paw in an attempt to manicure his nails. The cut was tiny, but the feeling of guilt gigantic. Every time Pernod sniffed at his injured paw, the make-up treats appeared magically. He sniffed that paw for a long, long time.

Still, Pernod is easy-going: he quickly forgives his loved ones. Whether it’s out of kindness or just due to a weak memory, I don’t know. But it’s a fact that he easily forgets slips and that his trust in humanity doesn’t suffer from it. He can take a bit of buffeting. When I step on his little foot, he makes a deafening noise, and three minutes later he lies on my lap, taking advantage of the make-up session with declarations of infinite love.

Chatblis is a different story. If her majesty feels offended, you’ve got a serious problem. This week’s example: I’m cleaning up the house and Chatblis is sitting on the back of a black chair in a dark room with her tiny black body. Invisible to the human eye. I pass by with some empty cups and a pile of old newspapers under my arm. And with those papers I accidentally smack her down.

As fast as a ghost she rushes past me and disappears unto the highest regions of the house. I stay behind unhappily. Guilty. ‘Sorry, sweetie!’ I call after her, but it doesn’t make the slightest impression. Experience has taught me that I need to give her some time when something like this has happened. After fifteen minutes I can no longer stand it. I retrieve her under the bed. I kneel down and try to sweet-talk her. “I didn’t mean it like that. It was an accident. I’m really, really sorry.” But my explanation isn’t accepted. She gives me a sly look and I can continue talking to her back. Oh, the power of that tough girl…

As evening comes she reappears. I suspect she has forgiven me because she’s hungry and I’m in charge of the food supplies, but what difference does it make? It’s good enough for me.


  • Publication out of the book Miauwkes’ by Veronique Puts. Like this story? Press the blue ‘follow’ button on the blog page and receive an email every time a new story is published.

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