Last night I was watching my cat, who is ginger, black and white, washing herself on the sofa. It is very relaxing watching my cat. She seems to have such a simple life. All she does is eat, sleep, wash herself and wonder around the garden admiring the bird life.
I find her washing herself mesmerizing. She seems to know exactly what she needs to do. She spends the right amount of time and effort washing each part of her: left paw, right paw, neck, nethers, tail, stomach, ears, nose, stomach and sides. She seems to have the right amount of spit for the job. And she always looks clean to me. She always smells of clean cat. I like the smell of clean cat. (Incidentally, f it wasn’t for the smell of clean cat then we wouldn’t even have cats as pets. Its a long story, but basically because the Romans decided that cats were better than weasels as pest controllers on account of the fact that they smelt nicer, and then brought them over to Britain when they conquered our lands, we have the lovely cute, cuddly cats as we know them today.)
Then I had a weird thought. Do all white kittens, as they grow up and they learn that they have to groom themselves, come to the sudden realisation that being born a white kitten is actually a bit of a bummer in the washing department? Surely they have to spend longer than the average cat on washing and grooming? If you are a white cat, everyone can see the dirt. So you must wash, and keep washing, all day every day.
Do they therefore feel jealously for their more multi-coloured brothers and sisters?
White cats may take better selfies than black cats (or so some believe, I don’t share this belief), they still lose out because they have to spend much longer than black cats washing themselves in preparation for their amazing selfies. What sort of cat would you rather be? I think I know what I’d like to be.