I'm a Dog person, not a Cat person. Cats know this, and so make a beeline for me. One particular Moggy in the Netherlands would walk up to me as I was just going to work, then just flop, waiting to be given a tummy rub. How could I refuse? When I was about Andrew's age, I used to ride on our huge ginger tomcat, called Spuffles. (Mum wanted to call him Tibbles, my sister wanted to call him Fluffy, and my Father wanted to call him Sputnik. So they compromised.)
I've seen a picture of Spuffles sitting on my Mother's lap, both with backs straight. His eyes were about level with hers. Yes, he really was as big as I remember, 30+ pounds of whalebone, gristle, muscle and fang. Alsatians used to cross the street to avoid him. Yet he was very gentle with me, even when I did the usual things a Toddler does.
So here's an Epic Poem for all cat-lovers out there. The Story of Schroedinger's Cat.
And remember : Dogs have Masters, Cats have Staff.
UPDATE : Looks like Tim Blair is a Dog Person too.
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