The scene opens in darkness as Schrodinger is contentedly surveying his work. He sits, quill pen in paw, attempting to compose a poem. Hoomum continues to snore in the background.
“Roses are red, violets are blue, oh my dear curtains, how I have missed you….”
If the quality of his poetry leaves something to be desired, it must be remembered that he IS a cat.
He stretches, nudges his brother and between them, they decide it is breakfast time.
“OOOOFFFF!!!”
Indeed, this is the typical way hoomum starts her day as first one, then the other, cat jumps onto her bed and like a guided missile, one aims for her belly while the other aims for her chest.
Of course she pushes them away, but then Angus spots it: is that a mouse under hooomum’s pillow? Well, as an act of purely selfless charity, he must of course dig out the mouse, so he sets to work, back paws braced on hoomum’s neck, front paws scrabbling into the bedding for all he is worth. With a grunt, hoomum pulls him into what is known as “the cuddle brace” – it looks like a cuddle, to the inexperienced, it could feel like a cuddle, but in fact the entire furry body is pinned to her side in a death grip, so it cannot therefore be considered a true cuddle. With a squirm, a scrabble and a POP, Angus dispenses with the cuddle and jumps off the bed.
Here, Schrodinger takes over. His approach is more nominally affectionate, having already been outside – in the rain – he stands in the direct centre of hoomum’s chest, pushes his damp nose into her face and then with a FLUMP, lies down on her face – all four kilos of soaking wet fur of him.
With a *few* expletives, hoomum finally agrees to get out of bed. Sleepily, she stumbles in the direction of the bathroom as Schrodinger waits patiently, watching her.
She stops.
She sniffs.
She has smelled it.
And Schrodinger smiles.
“CAAAAAATTTTTT!!!!! You BLOODY MENACE!!!!!“
Schrodinger looks at her quite reasonably, “but hoomum, Lent is over! You can’t possible have expected me to maintain such a strict discipline once the new liturgical season of the church year has arrived? Surely not!”
Spitting with anger she replies, “Forty days abstinence should have been MORE than enough to break this disgusting habit cat!”
“Oh no hoomum! Forty days was only enough to remind me of how much I MISSED curtains. They are my favourite you see. Besides, you hooomuns who give up chocolate or alcohol or other things in Lent, don’t permanently give them up do you? You didn’t HONESTLY think I had permanently given up curtains did you? Really?”
The cat blinks in innocent astonishment as hoomum starts to remove the curtains from their curtain pole.
Besides, Schrodinger continues, “You DARED to invite a second hoomun into MY house and allowed her to stay in my FAVOURITE bedroom. You can’t possible have thought I would allow you to get away with that, did you?”
“Are you kidding me cat? Debbie regularly offered you obeisance and adoration. She stroked you every time you jumped up on the sofa – even when you repeatedly put your furry bum in her face – she talked to you, reminded me that you are indeed superior in the household and fully in charge. What more could you possibly have wanted of a houseguest?!”
“Well duh.” Schrodinger replies. “For there not to be a houseguest of course. It’s MY house. Besides, you didn’t ask my permission first.”
By this point, hoomum is spluttering with barely contained rage. Schrodinger is of course entirely unruffled (which is saying something with his quantity of fur).
“By the way hoomum, it’s breakfast time.”
“Breakfast? BREAKFAST?! You’ve got to be kidding cat! You’ll be lucky to be on bread and water rations for a week!”
Schrodinger is quite calm in his reply, “And is such an ungenerous and cruel act truly in the spirit of your priestly calling hoomum? Really? You must ask yourself, ‘What would Jesus do?’”
With a flick of his glorious tail, Schrodinger jumps up and out of the window but, in a parting shot, his amused voice echoes back from the roof:
“Oh, hoomum? You might want to check the kitchen curtains too. After all, confession is good for the soul.”
Schrodinger's Diary 
Leave a comment