Hiyah fans, Viggo here.
Today I want to tell you about the book my woman has read to me over the last couple of days.
Being of the catty persuasion, I'm always interested in art about cats, obviously. Couldn't care a fig about other animals.
Right, this book, listen up.
It is called A Streetcat named Bob and it has been written by James Bowen - or rather it has been written by this other guy called Garry Jenkins, and he did a pretty good job pretending he was James Bowen.
Are you still following me, or did you dive too deep into the catnip last night?
Anyway, it is about a red cat in London, who hooks up with a down-and-out junkie (old Jaimy). Garry/James seemed to think this was very very special, where in fact we all know that us cats have far more sense that you humans anyway and we pick and choose among you. You think you chose your cat, do you? Phah! Dream on, my friend.
Bob and James form a bond, and Bob quickly realizes he's onto a very good thing when lonely James starts to coddle and cuddle him, and spends a substantial amount of his benefits on cat food and the vet. He even walks down five flights of stairs to let Bob do his business several times a day!
I can relate, I hate that litter tray as well, especially now that Bowie uses it all the time. Boy, does that shit stink!
James falls in love with Bob, and Bob lets him. In return for food, shelter and a nice warm spot in front of the central heating he starts accompanying James to the streets of London, where he is busking. He even susses out that lying along James's shoulders as some sort of cat rug, makes people donate more. And he protects James, who clearly is a sad specimen, by sitting in front of him and keeping mad dogs away.
My woman and I had an argument at this stage. She claims that I should try to empathize more, as James has had a rough time of it and being a heroin junkie is no picknick. And wasn't it a wonderful thing that Bob was the catalyst that helped James pick up his life, get off the methadon, start selling The Big Issue, get a publishing deal and now a movie deal as well and probably has a chance of leading a better, more healthy and fulfilling life?
What bothers me is that Bob, being a cat, surely has nine lives, but is clearly living his ninth incarnation and what will James do when Bob snuffs it? Hm?
At that stage she got all huffy and told me 'probably what I will do when you snuff it - get another cat' and relations were a bit strained after that for a while.
Did I mention that I bit her in the lip? I must admit I did feel a tiny frisson of guilt when I saw her sitting there all shocked and sad with a bloodstained tissue pressed against her mouth.
But she didn't have to call the doctor for a tetanus shot (she said she probably would have to), so she clearly overreacted.
Should you read this book?
Only if you adore cats.