Ziggy now appears on Google Street View.
It’s all because of this cat tree…
We’d noticed for awhile that Ziggy liked to climb high, so we decided to get her a tree. Admittedly I didn’t research for long. I ordered the Fluffy II because it was reasonably priced and 163cm tall. I guesstimated since it was ten centimetres shorter than me, it would be high enough to interest the resident feline but wouldn’t take up too much room.
What I failed to take into account was the Fluffy II’s width. And its thick, thick covering of faux sheepskin. And the giant furry crow’s nest on the top.
It was bloody huge. It hogged half the window and dominated our not-large living room.
“I think we’ll need to return it,” I said to Gareth as he finished the assembly.
No way, said Ziggy, who immediately jumped to the top level.
She’s been up that bloody tree for about 80% of her time ever since.
It’s like she’d been phoning it in the last three years, hoping this moment would come. Now that she has Fluffy Towers, as Gareth named it, she no longer has to feign interest in engaging with us. She can simply reign from above, watching and judging, descending only briefly for food or litter tray or treats or a backyard stroll or a few stair runs. Then she’s all, “BYEEEE!” and hops back up to the luxurious embrace of fake fleece.
She spends her days alternating blissful snoozes with surveying the neighbourhood.
At night, she observes what is happening in the kitchen from the safety of the penthouse.
Recently I went to Google Maps on my computer to plan a bus journey. When I typed in our address, the thumbnail image of our street caught my eye. It looked like the Google Street View car had been in the neighbourhood back in March, for the first time in a decade. Instead of a previous resident’s caravan, our driveway was now empty.
I clicked and zoomed in. And lo, there was Fluffy Towers in the window, topped with two blurry triangles of snoozing cat ears!
That made my year, I tells ya.
The first time Mother-In-Law Mary saw Fluffy Towers, she froze halfway up the drive and burst out laughing. She slapped her hands to her thighs and laughed and laughed and laughed. Before that moment I’d thought, maybe it isn’t so ridiculous, we can get away with it! But such a reaction from lovely mild-mannered Mary confirmed it was bloody ridiculous.
We are now at peace with the big woolly wedding cake (as father-in-law Dave calls it) and its sun-blocking properties. There are occasional double takes from passers-by. And as I took a parcel the other day the postman remarked, “I see the Queen is in her castle today!”
But every time I arrive home to this surly face, it’s a small price to pay for a happy cat.