Book Description

Do you wonder what your cat is thinking while stalking the tablecloth fringe or racing through the living room on clearly important but ultimately mysterious business? As a mere human being, or “Lap” as they call our kind, you might never guess the complexities of the feline mind. But fear not, dear reader, you are about to be taken into the confidence of a cat. The Door “When we are inside the house we are often thinking of the outside, of how many cats may be walking through our yard, sitting on our fences, leaving scentmarkings for us to find. So we go to the door and wait at the door and wonder, again, what on earth is the purpose of the door.” A Paper Bag “We have spent many hours attempting to discover the secrets of the paper bag, to no avail. Even when we surprise it, leaping from a high place, the paper bag acts exactly the same way, and we find no creature inside. How does that work? By what physical laws does it operate? It is a mystery. And we do love a good mystery. Just not at our expense.” In the Sink “We do not understand or appreciate your fascination with our occupation of the sink portion of the household. The reasons we are here, in the sink—despite the risk of wetness—are obvious, are they not? The sink is cooler than most places in the house. The coolness from the sink surrounds us as no other coolness can surround us. If there was a sink Out of Doors, that would be one less reason for us to come home at night. But there isn’t a sink Out of Doors. So here we are. In the sink. Trying to sleep. Just a nap, you know.” Hilarious and clever, silly yet profound, We Are the Cat brings you into the inner life of cats, revealing the many joys hidden in a piece of string, the deliciousness of sleeping in a sink or in the sunshine, the endless mystery of what is on the other side of the door, and what our cats really see as they observe us from their perches. A NOTE FROM AUTHOR TERRY BAIN’S CAT Dear Reader, When we first heard that the “author” of this book—or, as we sometimes refer to him, Scratch—was writing about us, we were nonplussed. But then we gave it some thought. Some timely and careful consideration. And we have come to the following conclusion: We are not inclined to allow him to write a book about us. We have been watching him, and reading what he’s written so far—the book about dogs and such, with references to us scattered about—and we do not entirely approve. (We also would ask why on earth he would choose to write about dogs before writing about cats. This we feel speaks directly to his character, and we therefore must assume that he is more seriously flawed than we previously thought. So, no, he should not write this book.) It isn’t that we don’t agree with much of what he has written about dogs (though what we have read makes little sense to us. We understand “reading,” and “language,” but the sense it makes is much like dogs themselves—that is, not much sense at all). We would hope that should he write a book about us that we will not be made the butt of his jokes. We are in favor of people knowing us better so as to leave us alone more often (when we want to be left alone), or to appreciate us as they should (when we want to be appreciated). But we are not in favor of a book that does not take us seriously, or that paints a picture of us that is untoward, or that is otherwise not written by a cat. He is not a cat and therefore should not be allowed to write such a book, no matter how seriously he writes about us, no matter how catlike he seems to be at times (or doglike, as it were, which we think should disqualify him altogether). We do not wish him to speak for us. We will speak for ourselves. Kind regards, Swiper