On Friday night there was no sign of Louis Catorze, which was rather unusual as he has slept on our bed with us pretty much every night ever since the first day he came to live with us. That said, since the time he hid somewhere in the house (hiding place still unknown) and we made Oscar the dog’s folks go searching in their shed for him in the middle of a storm, we have learned not to panic too much at his disappearances.
When Cat Daddy went downstairs and opened the dining room door the next morning, out shot Catorze, all indignant and screamy. Yes, the little sod had used his Cloak of Invisibility to sneak in and had been shut in there all night.
I heard Cat Daddy say, “Well, it’s your own fault. You should have meowed for help.” Then I heard purring and squeaking, which are the classic signs of Boys’ Club rough play and forgiveness for whatever misdemeanour may have previously occurred.
Luckily Catorze hadn’t turned the dining room into les toilettes, nor had he trashed the place doing parkour trying to get out. However, he had managed to break into the cupboard containing all the good crockery and cutlery and had rolled all over everything. This photo is of one of our napkins:
Now, the cat people that I know fall into one of two camps when it comes to this kind of thing:
1. Disinfect and/or incinerate everything
2. Dust it off and nobody will notice
Dinner guests past and present, you will be relieved to know that Cat Daddy and I are firmly numéro 1. I think it’s safe to say that, given the choice, most people wouldn’t opt to eat from tableware that has been rolled on by a gross cat. And, whilst they wouldn’t necessarily know about it, we would.
The contents of the cupboard are now cleaner than an operating theatre. And, as the festive season approaches, Sa Maj is ready to receive pilgrims, both old and new, for dinner.
jesuisleroisoleil 
Il que j’admette, j’adhère plutôt au groupe numéro deux.
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Moi aussi. Dependant sur la sévérité….
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The bride and I both have poor eyesight, so we just roll with it. So far we have not had a guest for dinner stand up, say “oh gross!” and walk out after the soup was served.
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As an immuno-suppressed individual, you’d think I’d not have cats, yet I’ve survived nicely even though I admit to pushing a cat hair or two to one side on my dinner plate rather than getting all worked up about it and tossing the food. When the kitty gets affectionate and licks me, I try not to recall that a few minutes before, he was cleaning his bum with the same tongue! Not dead yet! LOL! But I do use lots of hot water and soap.
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The dining room table is one of Lily’s favorite napping spots. So… camp 2.
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Cat fur is both a decoration and a condiment. As you can see I fall firmly in camp №2.
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Not THIS much, surely? 😱
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Maybe not so much as a condiment. But as a decoration, I wore a pair of old jeans for working on the nature reserve yesterday that were more cat fur than black denim.
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Nature reserve is fine! Dinner party, I dunno … 🤢
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Surely all cat parents know that this is not cat hair, it’s kitty glitter! Similarly, there is no escaping it. 😸
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But … THIS MUCH? 🤢🤢🤢
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I cannot set the dining room table with a tablecloth and napkins too early before an event. One of the cats will surely take a nap on the tablecloth, pushing aside the centerpiece and fluffing the tail across several plates! I’m not neurotic but I try to have a clean table for guests. I set about a half hour before they are coming and keep an eye on the cats! Once the doorbell rings they all scurry under the beds so I don’t have to worry once people arrive.
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