25/05/2026
There is a very ancient and sacred rule of cat ownership that everyone knows, but nobody dares question.
When a cat chooses to climb onto your lap, curl into your arms, or tuck themselves against you like a tiny furry hot water bottle, you have officially been anointed.
At that point, your own needs are irrelevant.
Tea going cold? Shame.
Phone just out of reach? Tragic.
Legs going numb? Character-building.
Bladder quietly reaching crisis point? Offer it up to the gods.
Because once a cat has settled, purred, sighed dramatically, and decided that your body is now furniture, you are legally, morally, and spiritually forbidden to move.
There is an unspoken contract.
The cat gives you love, warmth, trust, and the honour of being chosen.
In return, you surrender all personal freedom until the cat decides the appointment is over.
And honestly?
Fair enough. We knew the terms. We signed with our hearts. And possibly our left leg, which we can no longer feel.
