A couple of mornings ago, Louis Catorze and I settled in front of the television for our usual early morning horror extravaganza.
I had prepared for being TUC by making sure I had as many important things as possible – tea, the remote control, a book and my phone – within easy reach, so that I wouldn’t have to wake Cat Daddy and ask him to bring me further supplies. He was already cross enough with me because, since the research I carried out for my Louis le Comte post, he has been inundated with county notifications. So I didn’t really fancy annoying him for a second time.
Anyway, as Catorze stirred on my lap, his tail dipped into my mug of tea. I had a teapot at hand but only one mug, and I didn’t want to pour good tea into a mug containing horrible taily tea. And there was nowhere to tip out the taily tea without displacing Le Roi. So I had a dilemma. I knew that Cat Daddy would not appreciate being woken to help me. In fact, he would have just drunk the taily tea had he been in this situation. But I have horrifying visions of where that tail has been, so that wasn’t going to happen.
Just as I had finished typing my message but before pressing SEND, Cat Daddy’s wine subscription delivery arrived. Now, as I have mentioned previously, dislodging a cat when TUC is akin to blasphemy in the cat freak world. However, not answering the door on this occasion would have meant losing the life-giving substance that fuels Le Château and helps us cope with Catorze, and that – along with Cat Daddy’s Unrepeatable Expletives that would have ensued – was utterly unthinkable.
So Sa Maj was undignifiedly turfed off my lap to allow me to take the wine delivery. He was not pleased.
I am expecting nothing short of Armageddon now.
jesuisleroisoleil 
Claude pays no attention to his tail. It’s in everything. If I’m stupid enough to leave my cup of tea on the arm of the sofa, and Claude is next to me, his tail will jettison the tea over the flamingo tissue box and onto the floor. If he is sitting on the arm of the sofa, and he sees the mug, he won’t go anywhere near it. He’s not the brightest spark bless him.
On the tea and arm of the sofa thought, Boo will stare at the mug until I move it. Then he will stare at the coaster until I move that. He will not share the arm of the sofa with anything! (He doesn’t push anything off it though, either purposefully or not.)
LikeLiked by 2 people
So Boo creepy-stares … to make you move things? 🤣🤣🤣
LikeLike
He does. It’s really funny. It’s even more hilarious when he falls asleep on the arm and falls off. He’s all claws and no self respect.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh my! We need a blog post all about this!
LikeLiked by 2 people
He does look like a cat with an attitude!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, he certainly is! He is the worst!
LikeLike
Taily tea! I love it! I’ve had some taily food, just not tea! Sleep with your eyes open!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I did once have a taily plate, but luckily I had eaten everything I wanted to eat so I didn’t need to replace it. 😬
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m afraid, but wasn’t Louis delighted to see a delivery driver that day? Weren’t we told your cat liked every of them? 🚚
Have a Happy Easter.
LikeLiked by 1 person
He was, but he was miffed at being turfed off my lap so I don’t think he thought to make the most of it. 😐
LikeLiked by 1 person
Frankie was just on my lap several minutes ago when my wife asked me to turn the air conditioner down. “Okay,” I said, “as soon as Frankie gets off my lap.” Just now she made a big show of turning it down herself.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You were TUC and therefore powerless!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I know, right? 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I do hope Louis didn’t singe his lustrous tail fur in the hot tea!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not only was he unsinged, but he didn’t even appear to notice that he was wet!
LikeLiked by 1 person
His Majesty does look displeased. Watch for tumbrils. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Tumbrils?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Those are the carts that took people to the guillotine during the French Revolution
LikeLiked by 3 people
I HAD NO IDEA! 😱😱😱
LikeLiked by 1 person
Taily tea is mild compared to tongued butter.
I one went away for a few days and forgot to put the butterdish in the fridge. On return I found a broken butterdish and no butter. It must have happened on the last day as it was according to the cat sitter not in shards on the kitchen floor.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh my! Did one cat do this, or was it a team effort? 🧈
LikeLike
Pehaps Louis will honor Cat Daddy with some Taily Wine. One of ours is always letting his tail drag through the water bowl.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Taily wine is not ideal but better than taily tea, because (I like to think that) the alcohol would kill off any nasties. By that logic the stronger the drink, the more resistant to taily nasties. Taily eau de vie, for instance, whilst still not desirable, would be the least offensive option of the lot.
LikeLiked by 1 person
One of my fur monsters got away with secretly “sharing” my lattes for God only knows how long. I only found out because one morning, in her haste to steal a few licks of her lusted-after elixir, she neglected to see that I was exiting the kitchen. Not a shite was given as I watched her lick her chops…🤢
LikeLiked by 2 people
Ugh! I feel your pain because Catorze’s big brother, Luther, used to chew my toothbrush 🤢. I dread to think how long he’d been doing it before he was caught. Was your latte caffeinated? Was kitty ever unusually alert and wired? 🤣🤣🤣
LikeLiked by 1 person
Caffeinated. She was always mellow so I think she just liked that it had milk. Toothbrushes were kept in a drawer for just the above reason…
LikeLiked by 2 people