Well, it’s about time I was back. It’s been ages. Cat Slave #1 has been hogging the blogging limelight far too long.
Time for a new instalment of the Feegle Cat Chronicles. This time it’s all about how to work as a team.
Now that Wullie kitten is firmly settled, we’ve developed a system of co-operation. Well, sometimes.
No Cat or Hooman is an Island
I don’t know who said this but I feel clever knowing it. Cat Slave #1 isn’t the only reader around here.
I used to think I was a loner before Wullie came along. Then I realised I’ve never been alone.
When I was born my mum had loads of other kids too. It was kind of icky but comforting as I felt those other warm bodies after I popped out.
It became a cat eat cat world, fighting my siblings for a bit of milk, though. We worked as a team eventually after a few sharp claws and naughty nips, and everyone managed to get a slurp.
I was what is rudely called the runt of the litter. There was nothing runtish about me. I was bootiful and still am. The others were kind to me though. They let me have fusses and grub from Mum too. We don’t mention Dad, mainly because no one has a clue who he is.
When the Cat Slaves brought me home I thought I’d go for the misanthropist life. Get me and my fancy words, eh?
For the first few days I hid away and showed them who was boss of my life. No hoomans allowed. Then I realised they provide the food, treats, and a clean litter tray. I decided to grace them with my presence. We became a happy trio until… THE KITTEN HAPPENED!
Let New Members In
Some groups are exclusive and secret. The hoomans tell me a lot of these are dodgy and my 2 ½ years-old ears don’t need to hear about that. I have a feeling they’re full of dogs *shivers*.
It was a lovely life having two soppy hoomans doting on me. I just had them well-trained in giving out belly fusses and chin rubs at whim when Wullie happened.
I confess I was a git. When that little ball of fluff appeared I went off to another room and had an epic sulk.
Wasn’t I enough? Why had a new member been let in without my consultation? Why was he sitting in their laps when I had shouted shotgun on them?
Wullie wormed his way into my jealous heart. I realised he was actually okay, sometimes.
He takes the heat off me when something gets broken. Everyone blames Wullie because he’s a bit bouncy. He grooms me although he never quite gets to the spot I need cleaning.
The little fella is part of our team.
Recognise Your Kind
Wullie is a cat. I am a cat. We are each other’s spirit animals. He’s not as bootiful or poised as me but I forgive him. He’s a young ‘un with so much to learn.
Recognising your kind isn’t just about being the same species. The hoomans are Wullie’s and my kind too. They are just as weird as us. They do odd things like eating things that aren’t cat food, they don’t sleep all day, and they go to the toilet in a bowl. Absolute animals.
Everyone in our house is called a Shit Head. It’s supposed to be affectionate. No one discriminates in being called this name. We are linked by our shit -headedness.
Know Strengths and Weaknesses
Wullie and I hold strategy meetings while the hoomans are sleeping. We plan the next steps in cat world domination and consider our strengths and weaknesses.
My strengths are being bootiful, looking innocent particularly when I’m not, responding to the hoomans with a cute squeak, having pinky paws and nose, being loving, snuggling up to the hoomans for their comfort, and just being Feegle really.
Wullie’s strengths… Do we have to? Oh, okay.
Wullie has the loudest purr in the world, he’s playful, has pretty half Bengal markings (the other half is from his unknown dad but we don’t mention him), he is an amazing climber, and he’s very affectionate.
Our strengths make us an invincible kitty cat team. No matter what trouble we make, the hoomans cannot be annoyed with us for long. They forget our weaknesses even when Wullie is shredding the curtains.
It’s best to be aware of a team member’s weaknesses too so you can encourage them to work on them. Although how we’ll ever sort out Wullie’s shredding, stinky litter tray offerings, flatulence, and a nose for causing trouble, is beyond me.
What are my weaknesses? None. None at all. I’m bootiful.
Note from Wullie: Apart from you chasing me around the house, chewing my ears, batting me on the head when I’m just rubbing up against you, your insistence on double burying my poop after me… *Feegle chases Wullie away*.
Don’t Be a Know-it-All
You need people around you. You can’t know everything, unless you’re me, of course.
Hoomans need other hoomans, especially you writer types.
Cat Slave #1 says she has good writery friends on that cobweb thingy in the puter.
I’m not sure how they are friends when they’re not real. She insists they are supportive, encouraging, and she learns from them. They are a team.
I’m not going to tell her she has invisible friends and hears voices. It seems to work for her.
Over to You
What teams are you part of?
What have you learned about being in a team?
How bootiful am I? You may add how much in the comments as long as the answer is, at least, lots.