Andy versus Pandora - the bets are on

Andy is determined that Pandora will be a 'well-behaved cat' with 'impeccably manners', that she will do as she is told and give us no cause to complain and rue the day she darkened our door mat. The core of this tenet is fixed on two issues -that Pandora will a) NOT sit on the kitchen table whilst we are eating breakfast and b) learn to play fetch with her fluffy ball.

Pandora thinks the 'table ban during brekky' is v. unfair, as Phoebe climbs on the table all the time. Tybalt doesn't climb on the table. He uses it only as a springboard between the top of the kitchen cupboards and the floor, and to do jigsaw puzzles on. Phoebe HAS to sit on Andy's arms whilst he is having breakfast. I think she sees herself as some kind of diet aid, in that three minutes of Phoebe sitting on your arms renders you completely numb from the elbows down and therefore unable to use cutlery. But when Pandora tries to climb on the table at breakfast, she finds herself being put straight back on the floor.

She is learning. She now takes up a position on one of the spare chairs and stares at us over the table top. Occasionally, she will try to gain access to the table through stealth and cunning.

'No, I'm not really sitting on the table,' she will say. 'I am sitting on the newspaper. The fact the newspaper is on the table is neither here nor there.' Or 'Only 0.4% of me is touching the table. The fact that the tip of my paw is in your boiled egg is neither here nor there.'

Sometimes, she will just make a run for it and 'POW!' there she is in the midst of it all. I think she reckons that brazen cheek might be the order of the day, a bit like a shop lifter marching out of a shop with chin-up confidence, a 10 pack of pants and jumbo bag of cashews stuffed up their jumper.

And sometimes she goes for the 'look at me, I'm so cute, I'm a cute likkle ikkle kitten, how can you refuse me my every wish and desire, including the need to finish off your granola?' Andy refuses quite easily via the medium of picking her up and dumping her on the floor.

As for 'fetch the ball,' well, she is learning to do that quite well, too, although Andy has the best results, probably because he is a vet and commands a firmer respect than I. Up and down the hall she goes, retrieving the ball that Andy throws from the kitchen. Admittedly, she doesn't always bring it straight back, being easily distracted by things like racing Tybalt up the stairs or the sudden urge to stick her leg in the air and clean her bottom. And sometimes she just sits and stares from the ball to Andy and back again whilst he calls, 'Fetch the ball, Pandora, fetch the ball,' as if to say, 'Fetch it yourself.' But generally, she does 'fetch' with as much success as, say, an elderly overweight Pekinese.

Yes, Andy is very determined that Pandora shall be a well-behaved and polite puss-cat. He is a very, very stern lord and master, as the picture below admirably demonstrates...