I, Schrodinger, have reluctantly come to the conclusion that it is time to advertise for a new Hoomun to take over the role of serving me and meeting my every need.  

My loyal fans will of course know that I have struggled with Hoomum’s utterly unreasonable behaviour for quite some time but I am sorry to say that this time, she has simply gone too far.  The situation is now untenable.

Of course, any new applicants for the role will be expected to move into this house box as I am not prepared to move out (why should I? It’s my home after all) but clearly, I will need to give hoomama notice that she will need to find alternative accommodation.  

What has propelled me to such a disruptive decision you might ask? What has hoomama done to finally push me over the edge?  Well, it’s a long story so I suggest you find a suitably comfortable cat bed, maybe a touch of refreshing catnip or a tasty mouse to snack on and I shall begin my tale.

Three weeks ago, without any warning whatsoever, Hoomama disappeared. She was dragging a big box on wheels behind her but I didn’t think much of it as hoomuns often do strange things.  She was muttering something about the hoomun V.E.T. as she kissed my brother and I goodbye, but I was sure she didn’t really mean it.  I mean who would willingly go visit the V.E.T if they have another choice?  Besides, she was dragging a box on wheels, she wasn’t inside the box and everyone knows that when visiting a V.E.T, one is always inside the box.  I decided I must have misunderstood, returned to my nap and forgot all about her. I wasn’t after all hungry so I had no need of her at that time, she was welcome to get on with her strangeness and good luck to her, I decided.

Unfortunately though, I was soon to learn that hoomama really had disappeared.  In fact, she was gone forever and ever and ever, or six days and nights – whichever is longer.  Someone called a Kitty Angel came to visit us twice a day, just to ease our aching loneliness and make sure we had at least some sustenance to prevent us fading away into insubstantial nothingness, but of course I absolutely hated her visits.

Here Hoomum interrupts:  You hated her visits hmmm cat?  Shall I share the photographic evidence of you hating her offering you dreamies, catnip, toys, strokes, scratches and food?  Or the point when you were actually inside her bag choosing your own toys to play with?

Schrodinger:  Hoomum, shush.  I’m telling a story here.

Hoomum: Ah, my apologies cat, carry on.

With a lash of his glorious tail, Schrodinger picks up the tale…. (See what I did there?  See? Oh never mind…no one appreciates artistry these days.)

Anyway, by the fifth day of forever, my brother quite understandably decided that Hoomama had utterly abandonigated us and was never coming back.  He therefore disappeared to try his paws at being feral.  At first I wasn’t much bothered, I mean who wants a brother hanging around anyway?  All the more dreamies for me!

But by the end of day two, when a very weak and tired looking Hoomama unexpectedly reappeared, I was getting worried.  I told her so, quite loudly and on repeat. “Oh, you’re back.  WHERE IS MY BROTHER?  HE HAS DISAPPEARED AND YOU MUST GET HIM BACK FOR ME.  AT ONCE.”

Unfortunately, even though she gently stroked my head to say hello, she flatly refused to pick me up or let me curl up on her lap as is my due.  She kept saying some kind of odd, weird word called S.U.R.G.E.R.Y.  I don’t know what that word means, but it seems to involve sharp cutty things and Hoomama definitely wasn’t happy when I tried to jump on her.  I mean how unreasonable can you get?  She disappears forever and then doesn’t want to offer me the cuddles that are my due when she does reappear?  If she was stupid enough to let another hoomun near her with a knife, then that’s her problem.  She should have fended them off with her murder mittens but it should not impact my rightful need for snuggles.

Anyway, the next eight days blurs in my mind because by then, I was really missing my brother.  I tried looking for him, and calling for him, and occasionally Hoomama called for him too, but he simply refused to come home.  

Eventually, Hoomama found a magical way to put a picture of Angus on lots of flat shiny things, and recruited other hoomuns to walk through our neighbourhood to hand them out.  I really was getting most put out with my brother, as there was no need to cause everyone such upset but it seemed there was nothing I could do, so I demanded plenty of dreamies to comfort myself in his absence. I assure my readers this was an entirely selfless way of ensuring hoomama remained calm because if I’m calm, she’s calm.

Finally, after eight forevers, and in the very middle of the night, my brother jumped back through the window yelling about how hungry he was.  He was filthy too, clearly he hadn’t bothered to take a single bath while he was off playing field cat.  Despite that, hoomama swept him up into her arms and gave him dozens of cuddles!  How utterly unreasonable is that?  The prodigal cat returns and gets cuddles, while the one who has been here all along gets nothing!  I was shocked I tell you, shocked. I’m sure no one could ever have imagined such an extraordinary tale happening before!

Ok, so I admit I was at least a little bit relieved that he was back, for at least thirty seconds anyway.  But I couldn’t understand why he was so hungry, after all there are plenty of mouses down in the fields but apparently he wasn’t quite as good a hunter as he always says he is because he fell on our food bowls and devoured every scrap of biscuits in them.  Then hoomama refilled them with meat! I mean who gets the best meat in the middle of the night?! What was she going to do next, kill the fatted calf?! Put a ring on his finger?! It was so unfair.

Hoomama kept making these weird bleating sounds and her eyes were leaking so I don’t know what that was about but she seemed happy despite it.  Hoomuns really are strange beings.  It didn’t take long for me to be feeling quite jealous, she never cried like that when she saw me and I don’t know what all the fuss is about, he’s only a brother, but I decided to let it pass.

Here Hoomum interrupts again:  Oh come on, you spent at least a day and a night all curled up with him too!

Schrodinger sniffs disdainfully. I did not!  HE was curled up with ME because he was so relieved to be back together with me.  I mean who wouldn’t want to spend all their time with my fabulous self???

Anyway, you could be forgiven for thinking that this is a happy ending to our story because we were all back together again.  You may of course then be confused as to why I have decided to advertise for a new hoomama.  I did tell you to be patient as this is a long story so here you might want to take a munch of your mouse to break things up a bit because sadly, I’m afraid this is only the beginning. At this point, hoomama started cooking up her dastardly plot, as I was soon to learn.

She started talking about ‘house arrest’ and while I have no idea what that actually means, what I do know is that she refused to open any windows or doors.  It didn’t matter how much I launched myself at them, yelled, paddled on them, tried to trip her up on the way to a window or any other trick I could think of, she simply wouldn’t open them. I tried to sit at the window and point out that I hadn’t disappeared, while also pointing out how handy the nearby curtains were, but it made little difference.  Hoomama refused to relent.  

She also spent time staring at her lightbox muttering a strange word that sounded a bit like “catio” – now I didn’t know what this “catio” business was, but it didn’t sound good, particularly because she kept smiling strangely at my brother and telling him he wasn’t putting her through THAT again.

Finally, yesterday, there was a knock at the door and hoomama allowed two new hoomuns into our house.  They were carrying big bits of something that looked quite heavy and they made the most appalling screeching, banging, sawing noises that my brother and I spent the whole day underneath hoomama’s bed (operating on the understanding that cats are quite capable of becoming liquid during dire circumstances as there is only a two inch gap between the bed and the floor).  

Finally, the noisy hoomuns went away and to my relief, I heard hoomama open the big glass door into my garden. My brother and I charged downstairs and straight outside….only to discover an utter abomination.  Well, it was so vile, I can’t even begin to express my rage.

My brother immediately fell to digging but apparently he broke a claw so gave up (lightweight) so I then took over.  Between us, we dug and we dug and we howled and we scaled the walls of this appalling captivity.  We shot filthy looks at hoomama and insisted she take the dreadful thing down AT ONCE but she simply smiled and ignored us.

This, apparently, is the meaning of the word “catio” and I HATE IT!!

Note from the hoomun:  With thanks to the team at www.protectapet.co.uk for the catio! I like it, even if my furry overlords do not!

Final note from Schrodinger:  We offer no thanks.  None at all.  Get back here this instant and GET RID OF IT! IT IS AN ABOMINATION!

That is all.

The advert for a new hoomama runs tonight.

Thanks also to the wonderful ladies at http://www.kittyangels.org.uk He loves you really….

Schrodinger: Harrumph. Maybe.