Cat Daddy and I returned home on Sunday evening.
Upon arrival we were greeted by the chat-sitteur, who regaled us with tales of Louis Catorze’s almost-exemplary* behaviour during her stay at Le Château. He made a particular impression on her boyfriend, who declared that he’d “never met a cat like this before”. Yup. We know the feeling.
However, Catorze himself was very conspicuous in his absence from the welcoming party, choosing, instead, to sun himself on his outdoor cat plinths (yes, PLINTHS, plural – he fits perfectly well onto one but insists on lying across two pushed together). At one point I glanced outside, we locked eyes AND HE YAWNED AND WENT BACK TO SLEEP.
When we went outside to marvel at how much the garden had grown, we thought the little sod would surely come and say hello then.
Me: “Louis!”
[Silence, tumbleweed, crickets.]
Cat Daddy “Louis!”
Catorze, very feebly: “Mwah.”
Chat-sitteur: “Louis!”
Catorze: “MWAHHHHH!”
Not only did she receive the most rapturous “Mwahhh!” of all of us, but her voice seemed to galvanise him into action and he finally moved his lazy arse in our direction. He let us cuddle him, briefly, then went back to sunbathing on his plinths.
He is not cross with us for leaving him; that would imply that he actually gave a shit. This is just classic Catorze. And it’s also classic CST; the little sod spent so much time outside on the day of our return that he missed the arrival of – and the chance to accost – Lee driving the Fig van from Ocado.
I have another month-and-a-bit at home at him before I return to the company of moody teenagers. At least they will seem very polite in comparison.
louiscatorze.com 
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