Siamese The Ships Cat

One more sense makes Shabby one sensible Cat…

Dearest Nellie Cat

Ten-thousand years it’s taken us Siamese to hone our feline instincts Nellie, now we are forever using our six senses to help poor owners who only have five. Our sixth sense might be good for spotting which owners are a soft touch and which ones are dog lovers, but every Siamese will tell you how tiring it is keeping all six senses together while still finding time to sleep our eighteen hours. We do our best Nellie, but with owners having five and those stupid dogs three, it can be back-breaking work making sure we’re loved and adored by Kind Old Ladies.

Every cat I talk to nowadays complains about how hard it is to find a Kind Old Lady. It’s the topic of every cat conversation, just like owners who bang on about the weather. Cats bemoan this sixth sense challenge as tho it was a chore deliberately sent from dog alley, sixth sense this and six sense that, dog this and puppy that, lots of dispirited downhearted Siamese I know talk about nothing else.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking why is this Siamese beefing about how hard it is to use all six senses. The thing is Nellie, my reason for writing to you, is that I have seven.

My number seven is my absolute sworn secret, I have never told another cat. I use my sixth sense just like all cats, to know which owners are going to feed me and stroke my chin, which ones I can snuggle up to and move in with, and even trying to second-guess the long-shot ones who might one day turn into Kind Old Ladies – but I get kind of annoyed when I listen to other cats all-the-time complaining. My seventh sense is my nemesis Nellie, I have to work so much harder than most cats to control all my seven senses, I’m beginning to think I might not make it. I know this is wrong, that I should not think like this, but even my close friends are beginning to notice.

Please help me Nellie, I just want to be a normal cat, I want to be a cat just like every other cat. Can you help me to be a normal Siamese cat with only six senses?

Shabby from North London. May 2021


Dear Shabby

What we all wanna know here is, what does your seventh Siamese sense do? This number seven, could it turn you a profit? An’ what’s a nemesis? We never even heard of a word called nemesis. We can’t just guess you know, we’re not psychic.

We’ve all four given this some thought, but my sneaky guess is you already know this. Wosita here said we should all wear helmets, in case you can see what we’re thinking. So turn off your strange powers Shabby, while we come up with a solution.

When I was kidnapped, I was myself just a little kitty. My mom, I know she had seven but her number seven was the purest love, a love just for me, more than for my two sisters. My pop, I’m told he had special powers, powers that made all girl cats rush to have his kittens. I never knew my pop but I know he deeply loved my mom, she even now tries to find him. So honeybun, you an’ me might ‘ave some things in common, an’ it’s how I know there might be an easy answer.

Last night, just after midnight, I suddenly realised you’ve found a gap in the market. Could this number seven be turned into something special? Like a new exciting way to find Kind Old Ladies? We all know the biggest problem cats come up against is that Kind Old Ladies end up in Kind Old Lady heaven, an’ the trick is to spot a grey-head before she turns into a Kind Old Lady. This might be how you could best use your number seven.

Mildred here, our friendly veterinary, says she might ‘ave some cream that’ll maybe tone your seventh sense down, but like all veterinary stuff it’ll be over-the-top expensive an’ I bet you don’t have insurance. Being turned back into a normal cat might not be the best way for you. So me an’ Herminia, we wanna help get this extra sense working an’ we got a Mexican friend who said he could be your personal manager. He’s a Mexican dustbin cat but he’s good with numbers. He’s gonna come up with a business plan an’ something called a forecast, then he’ll send over his standard blank one page contract.

Our Mexican dustbin friend can also be your business advisor, he can be your consultant an’ your lawyer, he can find you a bank to sell you your payment protection, your key-man insurance an’ your credit insurance. Your new bank can also sort your eye-watering high-interest development loan an’ a nice juicy project loan, if you need a syndicated loan then you’re gonna need more than one bank, but a lead bank to syndicate all your other banks’ll be ok for now. Then there’s some bills of exchange an’ some off-balance-sheet financing you might need if your owner wants to drive a flash expensive car, one fixed up with nice number plates. An’ you’re gonna need all this before you even get outta bed on your first day foreseeing. You don’t have to use my Mexican friend, but you’ll soon see how all bank men an’ business advisors smell of those overflowin’ dustbin things.

Before I go, could I ask you one small favour? Could you just look into the future to see if I make it back to England? An’ if you see my mom, could you kindly tell her I love her?

Nellie, The Ships Cat


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