78P CTURE: PH LL P CASTLETON/BAUERSYND CAT ON.COM.AUHELEN BROWN’s cat Jonah remains resolute as ever
F
or the life
of me I can’t
understand
why humans are so
obsessed with The
Beach. When the
thermometer rises
and every sensible
creature is making
a beeline for shade,
the furless ones emit
cries of joy and head
for the giant litterbox
beside the sea.
“You love The
Beach, don’t you
Jonah?” Scribbler
said, shoving me in
my carry case and
clicking the seatbelt
around it.
Yeah, right. As if a cat is going to relish
sitting in a box on the back seat for two
hours before being chased by mad dogs
and seagulls – with the added bonus of
being engulfed by uncontrollable mounds
of surging salt water.
The only thing I like about The Beach
is my furry grey blanket. Scribbler bought
it to compensate for uprooting me and
dragging me out of my city routine.
“Why does he do that?” Man asked
when I burst out of the carry case and,
yowling like a banshee, galloped around
the beach shack.
“He’s a bit psycho, aren’t you, boy?”
she said, dropping the blanket over me
and hugging me to her chest. “See?
Now he’s purring.”
After I’d settled in, the rest of their
litter arrived, slamming car doors and
shouting. I watched them tear most
of their clothes off and sit on the deck
exposing their newborn kitten skin to
the sun. Who’s psycho now?
“Any resolutions for the New Year this
time?” Man asked her.
Scribbler took another bite of her
panini and said she was going to lose
10kg (excuse me while I choke onNew year, same old story
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our sayAUSTRALIA’S NO.1 FORTNIGHTLYfurball). After
lugging a glass
f wine, she then
wondered if she
might change her
esolution to sleeping
ff Christmas.
Humanity’s drive
o improve itself is
ewildering. Every
anuary, they embark
n futile attempts
o make themselves
more admirable and
ttractive. They’d
e happier if they
topped fretting and
made the most of
very moment the
way cats do. But
would they ask moi for advice?
The sun sank like a giant egg yolk
into the horizon. They grumbled about
mosquitoes and wandered back inside.
“Why does Jonah always have the
best seat in the house?” asked one
of Scribbler’s grown-up kittens, who
frankly is old enough to be out hunting
for himself now.
It’s hardly my fault the only place
I can fully relax in is the sunny corner
of the sofa next to the potbelly stove.
“Does he really need the reading
light?” Man added.
The Beach would be more enjoyable
if they’d let me out at night, but
apparently I’m a threat to native
animals. Whoever came up with
that idea can’t have seen the size
of the wallabies around here.
Once the family had gone to bed,
a giant possum clomped across the deck
and taunted me through the window.
To keep things nice I asked if he had
any resolutions for the New Year.
“You don’t believe in that rubbish, do
you?” he said. “The moon’s out, there’s
plenty of fruit in the trees. What more
could you want?”
Contact Helen via helenbrown.com.aua
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