Mac the Birman Cat

Have you ever tried eating fresh mouse? Yuck! It’s disgusting. I only ever tried it once because Mum gave me one when I was little. I had to share it with my brother and sister, and we ate it – and then sicked it up somewhere out of sight. Well, you do what Mum says when you’re a kitten.  It was the same with the shrew which she pushed under the door as a special treat for us when we’d been shut in.

Give me regular cat food any day. Not any old cat food, of course, I have my favourites, and I make them known although I may change my mind just after they’ve bought me a huge box of it. It’s just as well to keep the staff on their toes.

As you’ll have gathered, I’m a cat and proud of it. Not just any old cat but a Birman but don’t muddle me with a Burmese which has different colouring and shorter fur. We’re the Sacred Cats of the ancient temples of Burma, and there is a legend about how we got our deep blue eyes defending the monks of the temple.

I go by the name of ‘Macafferty’ as far as the humans are concerned or Mac to my friends. Of course, I’ve got a pedigree name, but no-one calls me by that. I’ve also got a name in the cat language, but as you are unlikely to speak cat, I won’t bore you with that.

I live with my brother who they call ‘Ruffles’ because he has a magnificent ruff. I don’t think they can cope with complicated names.

I thought it might be helpful for kittens if I give some hints and tips on training their owners when they start in a new home. So my next post will start on these.

Bye for now

Mac

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