The Story Of A Cat And A Rug.

 The power of signs.

Every now and again I the mood takes me to hoover and wipe the floors. A gargantuan undertaking - in my view at least - and one that  I am not the only one who abhors it.

We have a two rugs, one in the lounge and one in the vestibule, that are my first port of call when a dose of hoovering is in store. They get bundled up and taken outside for a proper shakedown. Lord knows that our cat is far from happy to hear the old hoover being fired up and she knows the signs of when it is.

Take today for example. It was so horribly windy outside  ( gosh, almost stormy ) that I cut short my walk and made the decision to substitute a bout of cleaning instead. Once I got home Miss Maus performed like a toddler wanting to go outside for her walk but as a parent I deemed it too hazardous. The buoys of wind would twirl her around like a toothpick.

 Meaouw, meaouw, meaouw....

...until I bent down to pick up the first rug. Gosh, I have never seen her dash so quickly into her hideout. Ears back, tail tucked in and off she went. As if the hoover had ever come close to her! Clever as she is, she has worked out once the coast is clear and her nemesis put into the corner. 

The cord isn't long enough for all the rooms so that halfway through my bout of hoovering I have to unplug and re-plug at another plug. Even though there are a few moments of silence she will only reemerge once the second lot of noise is over.

  Don't worry my sweet gal, this hoover incident won't be repeated for a long while!!!!

The joys of housework with a cat for audience...

Biggi