We live in a three-cornered household. I occupy one corner and Tigger another. Given my interest in, and identification with, the feline races it will not surprise you to learn that the third corner is firmly occupied by a cat. She is female and we call her Freya. What she calls herself, I do not know. Freya wears an elegant silver tabby costume and has large yellow eyes with which she is able to gaze at me with hypnotic intensity when she wants something.
Freya is a big cat and almost continuously affectionate. She is very vocal and has invented a set of sounds which I have heard no other cat make. She is a “rescue cat”, acquired by a cat charity who reckoned that her owner was mistreating her. When I first had her, Freya was so nervous and resentful that I thought she would never settle down and I would have to give her back. Eventually she calmed down and is now so confident that I feel able to take her on the bus and train, albeit in her carrying basket. The cat that once ran away and hid from me is now full of affection and spends every night curled up against my legs.
The only problem is that she is overweight. I think this may have something to do with her chequered past. Tigger calls her “lardy puss”. If you think that a bit strong I will point out that Freya recently tipped the scales at over 7 kg. So she is on a diet and not liking it one bit. Funnily enough, I don’t like it either, but I can be ruthless at times and this is such a time.