Village Of The Cats

After eight blissful hours of sleep, we arose this morning and took a train from Taipei Central out to Pingxi. Or Pingsi. There is some ambiguity here, partly because of the difficulty of transcribing Chinese in a Latin script, and partly because somebody has been round the town applying little 'S' stickers over the X in Pingxi. Or little 'X' stickers over the S in Pingsi.

Cats

There are lots of cats that live around the HDB flats.

They can't live in the flats themselves, because cats are noisy and smelly, whereas dogs are reliably silent and fastidious. Many is the postman who will have bad memories of being savaged by a vicious housecat, many is the man who relives nightmares of being chased by a cat off its leash, or of seeing his flock of sheep worried to death by a cat turned loose in a field. They might appear friendly and fetch a ball when you throw it, but cats - oh, hang on, that's dogs I'm talking about. It's easy to get confused.

Criticism

I'd been a bit worried about the cat. She hadn't been using her litter tray that assiduously lately. I don't mean she'd been missing it. There's just been no evidence of any digestive processes, except for the food vanishing from her bowl. You can put stuff into a cat, but that shouldn't happen indefinitely without something coming out. Yet, short of giving her a good shake, I wasn't sure what I could do to move things along.

Two cats

We've been looking after our friend's cat, Lila, for over a year now. She's an endearingly clumsy grey haired cat, who likes cheese, yoghurt, and walking on our chests to wake us up at five in the morning. Lila's fulltime staff (cat's don't have owners, they have attendants) was away in Africa for the last month, so after a brief Lila-shaped absence in our flat, we'd got her back.

Unfortunately for Lila, a second cat was on the way...

More doughnuts, cats, cars

We left the city of Dartmouth and headed out into the wintry wilds again, driving through the fog into the middle of nowhere. As we ploughed on, strange signs wafted up from the whiteness: grapes, golfers, and then at last, the sacred service station, with its promise of sweet, sweet gasoline and delicious fried foods.

Short walk

After the high of last night, I made the dual error of staying up until 2am, and then hiking Dragon's Back at 9 in the morning.

Cats and hats

Today I collected the painting of the crucified cat from the framers. I only realised once it was back at the office and being viewed with bemused disgust by everyone else that it had a fairly close match to our corporate colour scheme. I'm not surely that I can sneak a vaguely disturbing depiction of feline sacrifice onto the wall without anyone noticing. But it's worth a go.

Cats and dogs

My girlfriend wasn't particularly enamoured of the painting that I brought home, reacting to it in the same way that you might when your cat fetches in a dead mouse for your delectation. Well, to be exact about this, she said the picture was scary, which I feel is stretching the point. Once a cat is nailed to a cross, even if it has a pair of breasts and a teddy bear attached to it, it's not much of a physical threat.

I assume. It's not like I frequently crucify cats, as I hope I explained yesterday.

Hummous

Hummous, hummous, hummous. Hummus, hummus, hummus. Houmousz, houmousz, houmousz.

Yes, my diet is less varied than the ways I can spell it.

Cats

Apparently a cat called Oscar has been stealing underwear from washing lines in Southampton and bringing them back to his owners. They are astounded by its kleptomaniac tendencies. And certainly not stealing their neighbours' knickers. Oh no. I wouldn't suggest that. Although it does seem a bit convenient. I'd like to blame things turning up in my apartment on a cat. Like, I don't know, stacks of cash or bearer bonds or small gold ingots. Knickers are small beer compared to what a cat could hypothetically steal. It would just be a matter of properly training it.

Manic depression, a frustrating mess

Jimi Hendrix has released a new album, Valleys of Neptune.  I'm not impressed.  Frankly, it smacks of nothing but self-indulgence and laziness that he'd spend forty years without putting out anything new.  I mean, even Chinese Democracy didn't take Axl Rose that long.