The other day I was preparing a beef wellington for Louis Catorze’s Cat Uncle. He is seriously ill in hospital, and beef wellington is his favourite thing in the world. This was what I had to endure after giving the little sod a few scraps of jambon de Bayonne, which I had used to wrap up the wellington:
I’ve always known that Catorze liked jambon de Bayonne. That’s no secret. But this level of screaming, and the scary sweeping of the floor for stray scraps like a land mine detector, were downright unnecessary.
Oh, and, later that evening, when the wellington was resting on the worktop, the little sod jumped up and lunged for it. Luckily Cat Daddy was facing that direction and was able to stop him before he was able to wrestle it to the floor. (It probably weighed more than him, but this wouldn’t have stopped him.)
Trying to steal the lunch of a terminally-ill man is deeply ungentlemanly, even by Catorze’s already low standards.
I am back at school this week, with a few staff training days before the kids return at the end of the week. I was about to say “It’ll be a relief to be around surly teenagers instead of Catorze” but Cat Daddy is away for a few days. So it’ll be surly teenagers by day, then by night I’ll be home alone with a bored, unstimulated, unhinged hell-beast.
Oh. Mon. Dieu.
For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com
louiscatorze.com 
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