Once in a while one of our customers squeals. The other day this was accompanied by someone crying out “Oh my God – I just saw a fox. You’ve got a fox in here!” This is how we know that Master Shopcat (aka Chombol) has decided to enter the shop. For he is a very big, very fine cat indeed. He is not technically allowed so to do (we are a food shop), but he does like to inspect stuff. Usually, to be honest, he is simply after a cuddle.
Before we became a food shop he used to enjoy sitting in the window, as still as a stuffed toy, just occasionally swishing his tail to make passers-by do a double take.
Anyway, he is very much part of the team. And he is quite famous hereabouts – hence his inclusion on this awesome map of local cats.
Defining physical characteristics: Uh, quite a lot of fur for starters. Tabby fur. Not too long, and always oh-so-clean. Looooong white socks. A smudgy right eye. Dribbles a lot – but only when he’s very happy. Always always looks as if he is about to make a disdainful comment.
Often to be found: Chairing the pigeon parliament on the balcony (mornings). Later on in the day, try looking inside cardboard boxes. Or inside bags (especially rustley ones). Or else you’ll find him halfway down the stairs, which, as he is rather large, is quite an inconvenience. At night he prefers to sleep on Mrs. S.’ feet. Which is also an inconvenience.
What to say to him: It’s Chom time! (Don’t worry – this only involves ten minutes of your time and a piece of string.)
Sit! (accomapnied by a firm pointing of the finger). Amazingly this works. He is clearly part canine.
Actually, you can say more or less anything to him. He always answers. The important thing is to keep up the dialogue, as he hates to be ignored.
Best not say: No. It usually results in a slap.
Bye-bye. This results in his retreat under the bed for several hours. Pathetic creature.
Potted C(at) Vitae: Master Shopcat is an Essex lad through and through, right down to the white socks. If he had a car it would be a souped-up Honda Civic, and if he had a passport he’d holiday in Benidorm every year. His early upbringing left him needy (he sucks his thumb, or yours, when he is having a cuddle) and lacking manners (he prefers to steal food rather than have it given to him). He arrived at the Cornershop when he was around 7 months old (he’s now 11), and although he proved to be an atrocious bully to the other cats living there, it soon became clear that he is afraid of Most Things. Especially that place that we know as ‘Outdoors’. This does not prevent him from travelling with Mr. and Mrs. Shopkeeper occasionally (such a Mummy’s boy).
He likes pizza and smoked salmon and raw liver. Oh, and Master Shopcat really does believe that the world revolves around string.
You can read about Mr. Shopkeeper here.
Coming next: Mrs. Shopkeeper