The proverbial cat on the mat and debut venture into using an iPad app that's been staring at me for over half a year.
The transition from bamboo pen, my tool of choice for the computer, to big, fat, clumsy finger, slapping the screen and producing, albeit amature—an amusing doodle. And, when all is said and done, who is the cat on the mat? He or she doesn't resemble either of my two cats. Although one of the two, I'm owned by is a black and white cat called Missy.
Missy came from the sanctuary—a work in progress, was so frightened when she came to live with us that she started her residency in a cupboard in my study. At mealtimes, she would fly in, Zeppelin-like to devour her food, after which she would flee to her hideout again. The cat in the cupboard scenario continued for six whole weeks. On the odd occasion, if we met between rooms, she would literally run for her life, with a terrible scrabbling, scratching noise of her claws attempting to get a grip on the dark, wooden, parquet floors.
Finally, after six whole weeks of this crap and sporting an enormous scratch on my arm for good measure, I extricated her from the cupboard with a broom—permanently. It was then I discovered she was in fact a black and white cat, as opposed to all black and she had four legs as well. On that day, I told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to shape up, or she'd be going back!
It was as though she understood.
Our first contact was on the stairs. I hesitantly extended a forefinger in her direction, accompanied by a hopefull: 'Fingee?' This in turn was nervously accepted by a moist, black nose.
That was three years ago now and although Missy will always remain a nervy cat, these days, after a right royal trampling on my lap, to check we're still friends, in the evenings, she snuggles up next to me on the red sofa, sprawled out on her special woolly rug—I draw and she sleeps.
© Alison Day
