La Géorgie dans mon esprit

~ iamthesunking

I recently visited an old school friend for lunch, and he and his wife have a cat. I love meeting fellow cat freaks, not only because we always have plenty to talk about but because there is a chance that their freakishness is greater than mine, making me feel a bit better about how much we indulge Louis Catorze.

It’s better still when said cat freaks weren’t cat freaks when we first met, but have become so over time. I love seeing Cat Daddy’s look of horror when I tell him that someone used to be very cool but now follows a cat around and obeys its instructions. I also love reminding him that he was the one who asked our builders to create a pillar in our kitchen, so that Catorze would have a designated feeding station.

Georgia is one of the few cats that I know who, at fourteen, is older than Catorze, although she looks a hell of a lot better (but then most cats do). She is one of the prettiest cats I have ever seen, with coppery fur that appears to glow from within, like the embers of a dying fire. The household very much revolves around her, and she strides purposefully about the place as if she knows this.

She is the princess.

Georgia has a cat flap in the patio door, but I noticed – and commented on – the fact that her Cat Daddy opened the door for her.

“Oh, she won’t use the cat flap.”

If you are not a cat person, and you are rolling your eyes at the princessiness of this, trust me, this is nothing. Opening doors for cats, when they have a perfectly adequate cat flap that they choose not to use because we humans open the door for them, is but a MINIMUM REQUIREMENT in most cat households.

When Georgia is ready for her nap in her favourite spot in the upstairs study, she insists that her Cat Daddy accompany her there. And, when her nap is over, he must accompany her back down. This is a new one, even for me. At first, I heard this, I thought it meant he had to carry her. But, frankly, having to escort her each way isn’t much less princessy than that. And it’s only a matter of time before Georgia WILL expect to be carried. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Catorze were to teleport his way to her and say, “Ma chérie, you’re missing a très bonne opportunité ici!”

Waiting for her Cat Daddy to hurry up.
A perfect oval.

My only regret of the day is that I didn’t follow them and video the pre-nap procession up the stairs, because now I will be forever wondering whether my once-cool friend walked alongside or in front of his boss lady, or a few paces behind like the servile serf that he has become. Then I remembered our guest book … and our Louis XIV antique silverware … and our beeswax candles … and the jambon de Bayonne … and the organic aged Comté from the cheese deli (NOT plebby standard Comté from Marks and Spencer) …and the John Lewis cocktail coupes that I bought for Catorze’s birthday celebrations … and everything else that we lay on for our ungrateful cat who treats us like dirt.

Oh dear. People who live in glass Châteaux, and all that.

Here are some more Georgia photos, to take my mind off how pathetic and self-abasing I have become:

Cooling off on a hot day.
The grass really makes her fiery colours pop.
Looking beautiful in her garden.
Guarding her domain like a proud lioness.

25 thoughts on “La Géorgie dans mon esprit”

  2. Pingback: La Géorgie dans mon esprit

  4. Hello,

    Lovely article! Meeting other cat lovers is always a joy, and Georgia seems like a true princess. The photos are beautiful.
    Regards,
    Jamie

    Liked by 2 people

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  5. Georgia looks gorgeous. Thank you for introducing her to us and thank you for telling us a bit about her life.
    If it makes you feel better, our cat Timon, who is about to turn three, becomes a more and more demanding cat.
    😺

    Liked by 3 people

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  6. Oh… Georgia is looking so adorable! I prefer meeting people who have cats too, it always results in a good connection. Thank goodness 99% of my friends live together with a cat. And opening a door (with a cat flap) for a cat… the story of my life! 🙂

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  7. No kidding! My Persian kitty boy Andy is capable of opening the kitchen cabinet doors and drawers by himself – and he does! – but any time I’m in the kitchen, be insists on me opening the cabinet doors for him. He then examines the interior for “mousies” – I guess… – but the real reason is for “scritches” on his back, face, and chin and lots of “What a good kitty!” praise.

    Georgia is an exceptionally pretty kitty girl, and as noted, extra special for being a ginger “sort of” tabby!

    Liked by 2 people

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