The Biscuit
Hatshepsut is a cat with airs - well, aren’t we all? She is a cat who has ideas above her station in life (which is below me). Don’t they all, indeed? Hatshepsut - of Hamlet and Bast, is a cat with many names. Hatshepsut became Hattie, then Hat. Then, as the humans are inclined, it grew longer again. It became Hat, the cat. As this rhymed with the nickname of a notorious gangster murdered by the Kray gang in the sixties (Jack the Hat McVitie), she became Hat the cat McVitie. McVities make biscuits… hence the moniker, “The Biscuit”. Warped, I know, but it is a cross we cats have learned to bear - it sort of compensates when you consider free food for life.
Hat is a cat with eyes that bore into you. A stare from those peepers will freeze even the most determined kitten. They may try to take her place on the duvet, but they try in vain. So, too does her mother who will defer to her wayward daughter on such matters - well, usually after a hiss and spat exchange. She will bounce onto the duvet, take up her place between the people and turn around three times before settling down. “It’s my place, darling, and don’t you forget it.” Even I tend to let her have that one - the agro is never worth it…
Oh, well, places to go, kittens to watch…
