Political Correctness and the Felines

Political correctness does not really exist in my language as such (and I speak a few languages). What does exist for me is tolerance and in all languages. If I want to celebrate Christmas I do (although to be quite honest, being a non-believer I only do it for the rest). If someone prefers to celebrate a festival of lights, then it is their choice. I absolutely do not have a problem. I abhor discrimination, it is just not so important. Important is that we can all talk to each other, understand problems we all have and not differentiate between skin colours, religions, even what you eat. I like to discuss with my friends from other countries, to know what it means to live by another creed or way of life. It can only be beneficial and help towards understanding.

“Mrs. Human, Mrs. Human, just a minute: all this big talk about being equal and understanding. What about me?, I me and myself. Where was the friendly understanding when you packed me off to the vets?”

Oh dear, my chief feline Nera is waving her paw and has a few meows to contribute.

Nera in the flowers

“Nera I did not pack you off to the vets, as you say. It was a necessity. You were tearing your own fur out, walking around with hairs hanging from your teeth. This has nothing to do with political correctness, it was a necessity. The remaining fur you had was matted together similar to a moth eaten Persian carpet and what was living in your coat, who knows?”

“But no-one asked me if I wanted to have a haircut. It was not a haircut. It was a vicious attack, an act of revenge from a anti feline vet that had nothing better to do. Tabby, stop rolling on the floor with laughter, it is not funny. I have been insulted.”

Nera’s litter sister was looking at Nera with her new fur style and laughing.

“Nera, you must admit the vet really went to town with the shears this time. She must have been practicing on a heard of sheep before she started on you.”

“Tabby, now you are adding insult to injury. Mrs. Human, do you know what the vet said before she started on this fur massacre. Before I fell asleep, under anaesthetic of course, she said to the assistant “We will have to clean her teeth. Her breath smells and she has tartar on her teeth”.

“But Nera, be glad she discovered it otherwise your teeth might have fallen out.”

“Mrs. Human I definitely heard what the vet said to you on the telephone.”

“ Nera has traces of tartar on her teeth, brown stains, and it could lead to tooth decay. It is to be expected from an older cat, she is now 11 years old and it is better to remove the tartar. We can now do it quite easily, as she will be put to sleep.”

“Nera, it is for your own good and look now, you have such wonderful clean teeth and a new look.”

“All in the name of improvement you think. I liked my wonderful, super luxury fur. All the other felines in the neighbourhood were jealous of my handsome looks. All self-respecting felines have feline breath odour, it belongs to us. Who wants to smell like a peppermint stick, when you can smell like a tin of fresh tuna fish and I am not old. I am at an interesting age, in my prime. My pride has been hurt. Now look at me: I resemble a stand-in for Puss in Boots in a Walt Disney film. I think the vet must be practicing for haircut of the year, the new look for felines. Not with me, I am annoyed. This is not political correctness. I will definitely get a post-traumatic stress disorder from this treatment.”

“Rubbish Nera: in a few weeks your fur will start to grow again. It will be much better, silkier and no longer serve as a transport for ants, snails, bugs, and all sorts of seeds from the garden. Your fur was becoming a magnetized Velcro, a feline hook and loop fastener, being stuck together with all sorts of strange objects. The vet did not even dare to examine the fur he removed, he burnt it straight away in an incinerator.”

“And now I suppose you will be showing my new look to all those people out there in your blog; big deal.”

“Nera, look at it like this. There will be so many felines jealous of your new look, they will be scratching the vet’s clinic door to have the same. I saw that Garfield’s new girlfriend is a Sphynx feline, so you are still in the narrow selection.”

“Oh, I see, he is now going for the naked look. You mean he might see my photo and recognise my true beauty.”

Now I have a happy Nera, satisfied with her new style and everything is again politically correct. Huh? I mean she is a feline and not a personality or?

Nera the cat had a haircut

Nera the cat had a haircut

8 thoughts on “Political Correctness and the Felines

  1. How undignified! I shouldn’t laugh, but it really is funny.

    I wandered in from your Anglo Swiss blog and I’m pleased that I did. Anything with cats wins me over 🙂 They’re very beautiful but then all cats are.

    Like

  2. I once had a cat that looked exactly like Nera (before the haircut). Kip. I did not name him; I inherited him when he was already fairly old. Though I never knew just how old he was. He was the proudest and most majestic cat I have ever known.

    He’s been gone for quite some time. Your cat is eleven years old? That is just about the perfect amount of time to make wonder if cats can be reincarnated.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s