Orange Interloper

Paddington Bear comes to mind. 

His aunt was a believer in the cold hard stare. 

He liked marmalade.

I like his aunt, I could get on with her.

I don’t like marmalade.

IT arrived on Tuesday

I particularly don’t like this kind of marmalade.  IT is upsetting my digestion.

I have been giving IT the cold hard stare.  Fortunately IT does understand the cold hard stare, but seems to have a short memory for these things and comes back regularly to check and get refreshers.

F and I watched a film called Turner and Hooch the other night.  There is a scene where Turner drags Hooch about the house explaining that ‘this is not your room’ repeatedly as he goes from room to devastated room.  I have patiently explained , “this is not your room, this is not your litter tray, this is not your food bowl, you will not sleep in my hammock, ….”  It’s like shouting into a storm.  Except there has been no shouting.  We cats have ways of communicating messages that you humans rarely comprehend.

For now IT is being called OI by the humans.  Orange Interloper.  F found him in the garden.  He’s not feral (unfortunately, because she would have left him there if he was).  Somebody had dumped him, possibly only minutes earlier.  Since she brought him indoors he has been going out of his way to ingratiate himself to the humans.  He has been doing CUTE, and bouncing, and purring, and chasing his tail (and stupid stuff like that).