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I don’t know about the best pets, but let me tell you a little story about one of the worst.

You thought the food palaver was over at Part 21, right? Yup, so did we. 

Cat Daddy bought some hot-smoked salmon as an Easter holiday treat and, after taking it out of the fridge, he left it on the kitchen worktop to come to room temperature. We know perfectly well that Louis Catorze cannot be trusted around hot-smoked salmon, but we were pretty sure that he wouldn’t try any stupid shit with the two of us sat right there.

I expect you know where this is going. 

Cat Daddy and I were engrossed in an episode of Grace, so much so that we took our eyes off the suspect. I don’t know what made me glance over to the worktop but I’m very glad that I did: the little bastard had sprung up there like a silent ninja, and was about to tuck into the salmon.

Me: “Louis! Arrrgh!”

Cat Daddy: “[Unrepeatable Expletives of the Worst Kind.]”

I grabbed Catorze off the worktop and he let out the most awful, guttural growl, the like of which I have never heard before. No, he wasn’t hurt; he was just profoundly affronted. And, when I picked up the salmon to rehouse it in some cat-proof place, the cheeky sod had the temerity to pitter-patter to his plate and wait, assuming that I were about to serve it to him.

Cat Daddy: “We’re going to have to lock him – or ourselves – away whilst we eat it.”

Saint Jésus. Has our Easter holiday come to this? Has our LIFE come to this? 

For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com