Cats view their world, and the humans in it, in a very unique way. Join this quirky group of felines as they navigate a minefield of human dramas, some giggle-worthy, some crazy and some, downright disturbing.
Felix hated meeting new cats.
After the perfunctory sniff-up and general pleasantries, came the inevitable moment where names had to be exchanged.
He was well aware that it was probably all in his imagination, but he was sure he glimpsed a shadow of disappointment crossing the faces of the recipients of this information.
How he wished he had an exotic-sounding name to share, like Sayonara, the Japanese Bobtail from Grover Lane, did.
Or even something vaguely pathetic, like Mrs. Fancy Pants, made you memorable at least, and remarkable in some way. I mean, come on! No-one had named their cat "Felix" since 1984!
But, he supposed, apart from her gross lack of imagination, he really couldn't fault Miranda as an owner. She was doting and quite easily-manipulated, as any good human should be. And she lived alone, which meant he didn't have to share her attention with any pesky love-interests, or a tribe of unruly offspring.
And, in Felix's esteemed opinion, this state of "singletonness" looked set to continue indefinitely. You see, Miranda was ugly. Some good-natured sorts might euphemise and settle on "plain", or something equally non-committal. But, there really was no sugar-coating it, she was ugly.
Humans didn't seem to appreciate this particular quality in their own kind. He found this odd, given the almost cult-status they awarded to pets with two legs, or one eye, or a cleft palate on the Internet.
But ugliness, or any "defect", real or supposed, was not well-tolerated in their peers. Quite the contrary. Because of this, Miranda's ugliness seemed to be a constant and enormous black cloud, overshadowing her life.
On many a chilly Winter's evening, snuggled under her duvet, watching television together, Miranda had shared with Felix her dismay at not having been born beautiful.
How many more opportunities she'd have had. She would have gone places and done things. Met interesting people. Fallen in love and had a future with somebody...
At this point, Felix almost wished that one of her own would take pity on her, like they did the two-legged cat, and rescue her from this defeatist mindset she'd managed to get herself sucked into. Even if it did mean he'd be scooted out of this comfy cosiness at bedtime to make space for another human on the bed, or be assaulted by an angry toddler from time to time.
Mostly he wished that Miranda could see herself as he did: a perfect acceptable sort of human, as humans went. Quite frankly, this fixation with the beauty she lacked was becoming tiresome.
Little did Felix know, a strange set of circumstances was about to unfold, which would shake him and his views on humankind to the very core.