What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?
I can’t say I would LIKE to do this. But, in some alternate universe, I’m pretty sure there was once a version of me who did the job of testing things before the king used them, to make sure they weren’t poisoned, booby-trapped and so on. And I say “was” rather than “is” because can’t imagine Other Me would have lasted longer than a day.
The following tale illustrates my point:
On a normal morning, when Louis Catorze settles on the attic bed, he’s in for the day, and he might shuffle his lazy arse down at 2pm at the earliest. Now that CST is under way, it’s more likely that it will be much later.
Yesterday, at midday, I broke a glass right by his feeding station. Naturellement my only concern was damage to les pattes royales, so I set about sweeping up the pieces, kneeling down and surveying the area from every angle for the telltale glint of any escapees. The more I moved, the more pieces I could feel crunching under my knees, but most were too small to see. The one positive was that Catorze wouldn’t be down anytime soon, so I had a good few hours to make sure I had swept up every last splinter.
You know where this is going, don’t you?
When I reached the point of making some progress but by no means being finished, I heard the pitter-patter of doom. Then there he was.
Me: “Oh God, Louis. Why do you have to come now?”
Him, approaching me: “Mwah!”
Me: “Nooo, don’t come to me!”
Him, ignoring me: “Mwah!”
I scrabbled around undignifiedly on the floor, trying to flick shards of glass out of his way as he walked. If you have ever watched curling*, just imagine Catorze as the stone gliding along and me as the sweepers, scrubbing away to smooth his path. (Yes, I was swiping at fragments of glass with my bare hands, with all the vigour of TWO people.)
*Non-Scots: ask your Scottish friends. Alternatively, YouTube “curling with cats” and watch one of the videos. You will not be disappointed.
Fortunately the little sod managed to pick his way through the slivers of glass without slicing his feet. When he reached his empty bowl he mwahhed piteously, so I dutifully served him a portion. He sniffed it and walked away.
I am certain that there is still glass remaining, which I have missed, and that I or Cat Daddy will step on it before the week is out.
The duties of a skivvy to a Sun King are varied and subject to addendums / addenda / addendi (?) at a moment’s notice. So I shouldn’t be surprised that [insert whatever the opposite of “Glorified” may be] Human Land Mine Detector is part of the job description.
louiscatorze.com 
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