Just Like A Man (JLAM)

Who needs a man when one breeds Burmese cats? They insist upon accompanying me to bed every night and draping their furry bodies over all parts of mine, even in 38 degree heat, Just Like A Man. They take up more than two thirds of my queen-sized bed, Just Like A Man. They steal all the doona, Just Like A Man and insist that the electric blanket remains on 3. Their claws leave marks akin to whisker rash, JLAM. They get under my feet in the mornings when I'm trying to prepare breakfast in two minutes flat, JLAM. They scatter the neatly folded washing searching for a pair of rolled-up socks, JLAM. They demand their dinner at 7 p.m. sharp (after a hard day employed trashing the house) – yep, just like a man!
If you've shrunk your favourite jumper in the wash, hang it from a curtain rod. They'll think it's a new curtain and leap onto it and hang there by their claws. You know they will - you've seen them do it. Soon that jumper will be so stretched by the weight of their bodies, that you'll be able to wear it again. I used to leave meat out to thaw on the sink. Not any more! They love frozen meat. They drag it around the house like a lion with its prey until the meat succumbs to this treatment and breaks into small pieces as hard as marbles - but they still eat it. I wonder if I could train them to crack nuts? Open stubbies with their teeth? The possibilities seem endless. Who needs kitchen gadgets when one breeds Burmese cats?
How many times have you replaced the wire in your flywire screens? They don't care. They love to sit on the sill staring out at the world when suddenly some frenzy overcomes them and they just have to be outside. I wonder if one can buy chain-mail from the local hardware store? Mine have also learned that, if they persist for long enough, they can get that rolled rubber which keeps the wire in the screen, out. Then they play mad things chasing, with glee, all the flies they let in while I was at work. Another one has learned how to open almost any type of door. I stagger out to the loo in the wee, small hours only to be joined by this furry purry. She jumped up onto the seat behind me one night and fell in. She's lucky I was awake enough to realise what happened before I flushed.
They have cat races regularly at about 10 p.m. I don't know who the handicapper is, but they set out to break each others’ times every night. They get up quite a pace through my rambling old house and they lose traction on the polished timber floors. They fish-tail, hang do-nuts, do spin-outs and skid sideways into furniture and legs willy nilly. They scatter the mats all over the rooms. They race around with Christmas tree tails and eyes like yellow headlights on high beam. I think I'll place rags on the floors strategically about the house. Who needs floor polish when one breeds racing Burmese cats?
It's impossible to read in bed. As soon as you open your book and settle back, one comes and sits on your chest. All you can see is fur. Two more dive under the doona and proceed to belt each other up never minding about your legs and other things which also happen to be under there. They lick your eye lashes and purr in your ear. They walk across your chest and put their tails up your nostrils. (They also do these things when you are trying to write). So, you give up on the reading and settle down to sleep. All is quiet until 3 a.m. when all hell breaks loose and they decide to party. That's when they get thrown out and I slam the door in their faces. They hurl themselves at it like furry "cat"apaults, but I own a heart carved from stone!
I have been woken by an alarm which went off two hours early because they'd walked across the controls and advanced the time during the night. They jump on top of the fridge and re-hang the pictures on the wall. It took me weeks to figure out why the pictures kept hanging lop-sided after I'd straightened them, then the light was right one morning and I could see their paw marks on the frames.
They knock over lamps, tip the pegs out of the basket and send the full ash trays flying - yet they can walk along the mantle without disturbing a thing! They constantly jump onto the table, the sink, the benches. They fish books from the book case with their soft, velvety paws. They spread the newspaper from one end of the house to t'other. They shred six rolls of toilet paper at a time.
You know that they do all of these things, and more. They are wicked in the extreme. Yet, they leap about with joy when I arrive home from work. They entwine themselves about my legs. They rub their heads on my chin and kiss my nose. They purr with contentment on my knee as we sit in front of the fire. They present me with kittens which provide me with endless pleasure from watching their antics. They give me their unconditional love and an abundance of affection. They astound me with their intelligence. They enrich my life with their presence, my beautiful Burmese cats.