“Why so scrawny cat? Starving for fat fish or mice… or backyard love?”
Matsu Bashō, haiku
Tony, who has not appeared directly in this book until now, once explained the concept of the dead cat. It went something like this: “Dead Cats – revolting really although of course they can be very charming when they are alive. No, the dead cat syndrome is when someone devious and malicious wants to distract you from their misdeeds and throws a Dead Cat onto the table.” – You must understand T at this point is really out there – eyes bulging as he speaks – to be honest, I don’t see any of this cos I am on the end of a mobile and can only imagine, then suddenly he switches tempo. “Not a real dead cat, of course. You understand that would be totally revolting but something equally disgusting or distracting or just plain malicious. Grr I shudder thinking about it. Of course, when there is a dead cat on the table everything else pales into significance. The mood has changed, subject has changed and the dead cat however has got away with it. Again.” Personally, I’ve got nothing against dead cats. In fact, just recently I saw one on the street. For a moment I thought it was our neighbour’s cat Freddy. Then when I looked again, I realised it was far too scrawny. Freddy always feels rather plump around the middle, as if having consumed an entire potato salad. (Maude’s recipe, by the way, is her own salad cream, not she insists, Otto’s or Nigel’s, chives and a squeeze of lemon.)