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I hate her (updated)

by halfwayharry 

Posted: 29 April 2004
Word Count: 2287
Summary: A couple struggle with a spoiled brat

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‘Look at the mess he’s made,’ Rachel shrieked. Kevin hardly had time to get in the door. She almost pulled him into the living room.

‘Oh no,’ he said, looking first at the havoc that I had wreaked while he was out and then me.

‘You have to do something about him Kevin, this can’t go on,’ she said standing close to him. She regarded me with fear and fascination. I returned her look calmly. I knew it was in my interests to appear penitent now that Kevin was here.

‘Go have a cuppa darling. I’ll sort this out.’ Kevin shuffled her into the kitchen. She looked back at me. Her nerves were shot but it was her own fault. She had interfered in a happy situation. Although, I was in ‘penitent’ mode I scoffed inwardly at her. I knew that the combination of her terror and Kevin’s adoration of me gave me plenty of scope.

‘Danny!’ Kevin’s look was one of disappointment and I genuinely felt some remorse. He looked around the room and sighed.

‘What’s all this about, eh? he asked gently. I decided to pounce on him at an appropriate moment. That moment arrived when Kevin flopped on to the sofa facing me. I leapt on to his lap. He rubbed my ears in his special way but I could tell he was unhappy.

‘You’ve gone too far this time, son,’ he said in that babble you humans speak. ‘You’re a bad cat.’

I used all my tricks to win his affection but sensed no real mood shift. He lifted me firmly but gently from his lap and I watched sadly as he ran the noisy machine around the room.

Rachel came back in. She sat as far from me as possible with a stiff back.

‘It was a present from my mother for the wedding,’ she intoned to Kevin who inhaled sharply on hearing this. Now I can understand many of the sounds that you humans make when you ‘speak’ and of course we cats are expert in interpreting your body language and are sensitive to your primal emotions. It will be some time however before you reach the same high levels of communication as my own species. I was aware therefore that the pillow that she had stored in the cupboard held more value to her than I had realised.

‘It was duck down,’ she wailed prompting Kevin to sit on the edge of her chair and put an arm round her. Pathetic. They had plenty of pillows upstairs. ‘And this isn’t the first time,’ she said glaring towards me.

‘Shhh now. I’ll get you another one,’ Kevin told her resting his head on hers.

‘Let me finish cleaning up and we’ll sort it out,’ he placated the simpering fool. He started the noisy machine again. He knew I hated it. Usually he would carry me out of the room. But I was forgotten. She was more important. I watched as the feathers that I had so recently and pleasurably been chasing disappeared into the noisy machine. I was getting nowhere so decided to leave.

Outside, as I sat washing my paws for comfort I reflected on my life with Kevin. Like most of my species I left my mother’s side at an early age. I was not particularly disturbed. Although I enjoyed the company of my family I found them tiresome and being an advanced member of my species soon realised the potential benefits of human company. However, my advancement and daring almost led to my downfall when I darted from an open window into the wilderness one day. I had been allowed some supervised exercise along with my brothers and sisters but was bored with this. I heard the pandemonium behind me as I escaped.

‘Mum, one of the kitten’s has got out of the window,’ one of the tiny humans shrieked. Actually, that particular human was my favourite. She had been very good to me. Nevertheless, a cat needs freedom.

‘Elvis,’ they called walking up and down outside the house. They accompanied this with sounds designed to attract a cat’s attention. I steadfastly hid in the bushes. It was comical watching their feet march up and down trying to find me.

‘It’s okay darling, he’ll come home,’ the older human told my favourite. I could see that my favourite was upset. After all, who wouldn’t be after losing a cat like me? I fully intended to return once I had explored to my satisfaction.

Although I was an advanced cat I did not have the wisdom that I enjoy today. I am ashamed to say that I became lost. It was cold. I was chilled to the bone. I found a vent that was blowing heat and huddled close to it shivering. I hoped that a mouse or some such creature might pass my way but my luck was out, or so I thought.

‘Hello, little fellow,’ boomed a voice. I turned to see Kevin framed by the streetlight, smiling.

‘Miaow,’ I greeted him. I further explained that I was hungry and in need of sanctuary. My mother had warned me about strange humans but something told me that this one was safe and friendly.

‘Here you go,’ Kevin said placing me inside his coat. How fortune had smiled upon me. The vent that I had found shallow comfort against formed part of Kevin’s ‘flat’.

‘I’ve always wanted a cat,’ Kevin told me. He was in a state of religious ecstasy having just returned from the temple. ‘And now I’ve got one,’ he said kissing me. He mashed the contents of a can of tuna into a bowl and poured me a saucer full of milk.

Now, Kevin had been a very religious man before he met her. He attended the temple most nights. We cats understand these things. Not only are we religious; we were once the objects of worship. I had often followed Kevin almost to the door of the temple. Out of respect I would not follow him in. He called it the ‘pub’. On the night that he found me Kevin had obviously been engaging heavily in religious activities. I began to notice the signs. The poor man would become exhausted, unsteady on his feet. He would usually fall into the deepest of sleeps until the squawking thing beside his bed sounded and he would have to leave for ‘work’.

‘Bloody hell, not again,’ Kevin would tell the squawking thing. I have never truly discovered what ‘work’ is but began to hate it as much as Kevin. He often spoke to the ‘phone’ about it. The ‘phone’ is a strange thing. You humans obviously use it for comfort. Kevin’s face would cloud over when he had to talk about ‘work’ to the ‘phone’.

Whatever this ‘work’ was it took Kevin away from me for far too long. It is obviously unjust. A man spending as much time in worship should be allowed to rest. Still at least his worship gave him much needed comfort.

Even more enjoyable were the nights when Kevin was joined by his fellow worshipper Gaz.

‘Where’s my mate?’ Gaz would shout after they had worshipped together. I would run happily to him. ‘I’ve got a treat for you, Danny boy,’ he would garble. We would share delicious hot food that he always brought back with him.

‘You like your kebabs don’t you Danny boy?’ Gaz would state in great amusement. I was touched that my appreciation meant so much to him. After Gaz had ‘crashed’ on the sofa he would generally be courteous enough to leave some of his food for me to finish.

And the mornings that followed. What joy. ‘Fry up mate?’ Kevin would ask Gaz. ‘Please,’ Gaz would reply lighting a burning stick and puffing on it. ‘I expect you’ll be joining us,’ would be a typical comment from one of them accompanied by a loving ruffle of my silky fur. And join them I would. I would tuck into bacon and sausage while they spoke self-effacingly of their endeavours the previous night. Their embarrassment was touching. ‘Don’t do yourself down,’ I would think. ‘You put some time in last night.’

And then Rachel appeared on the scene. Prissily sitting in the living room drinking tea. Now Kevin had brought female humans to the flat before but usually after a night of worship. This was during the day. She regarded me nervously.

‘It’s not that I don’t like cats. Well, I’m just a bit afraid. They look kind of evil.’ She looked to Kevin for support. He held her hand comfortingly.

‘Well, I’m sure we’ll all get on,’ he said happily. Danny, this is Rachel. Rachel this is Danny.’

Something told me that this woman wasn’t going away. Don’t get me wrong. This didn’t trouble me in any way at first. As long as Kevin was happy and I was the centre of their world it made no difference. But the changes happened. Not only did Rachel have no piety herself. She drew Kevin away from his religion. He hardly ever visited the ‘pub’ any more.

Worse, Gaz stopped coming around. Kevin began eating a milky slop for his breakfast and something she called ‘fruit’ which to me has no value other than for rolling around the carpet.

She is obsessed with pushing the noisy machine around and has forced Kevin into moving his clothes from the floor into the cupboards and drawers. ‘And what am I supposed to sleep on when he’s out?’ I challenged her on more than one occasion as she hid his clothes from me. Of course she didn’t understand.

‘Nice pussy,’ she would say nervously firmly closing drawers and doors. ‘Leave them open,’ I would protest. Like most cats I like a dark corner to creep into now and then.

And then the final humiliation. I had been heading to bed as they were about to go out when I was restrained by Kevin. ‘Sorry mate your moulting,’ he told me sympathetically CLOSING THE BEDROOM DOOR IN MY FACE.

Oh! I knew that this was her doing. She begrudged me every single comfort. ‘It’s only till you stop leaving hairs everywhere,’ she said patronisingly. I understood that she was talking about my hairs. She was always talking about them. She had spent hours picking them up with a strange device and putting them into a bag.

It was raining outside. I was suspicious that she had something to do with that as well. Sadly I watched them get into the ‘car’ and disappear. I had no comfy bed or clothes to lie on. In short I was bored. I had a walk around the kitchen surfaces because I knew that she hated it. I began my ablutions on the coffee table which was another place that she hated me to sit on. As often happens I became carried away with the process and jumped in fright when I heard the snap and creak of a firmly closed cupboard door burst open.

‘Aha,’ I thought. ‘Providence’. I decided to investigate and that was when I found the pillow. By Jove it was comfortable. Almost as comfy as the bed. It was by accident that I ripped it. I was assertively responding to an itch. A couple of tiny feathers flew and I chased them. Well, you can probably guess the rest. This brought about the current crisis which I face.

I was hungry and decided to go home to eat. I considered sulking and refusing food but felt that I needed to see how the land lay.

‘I’m not getting rid of him,’ Kevin was telling her assertively. ‘Good’ I thought liking his tone. He was standing his ground for a change.

‘I’m not asking you to get rid of him. He needs some sort of training. He’s completely spoiled.’ I knew that she was talking about me.

‘Darling,’ Kevin started patiently. ‘You can’t train a cat.’

‘You can get a behaviourist. I know somebody at work that brought one in to help their dog. She did wonders.’

Kevin sighed heavily. ‘It’s worth a try. But you have to make a bit more effort yourself.’

‘Oh, it’s love me, love my cat is it!’ she said this sharply rising to her feet and putting her cup down on the coffee table. ‘Ugghh,’ she said noticing my paw prints on the table for the first time.

Kevin was desperate. ‘Please Rachel; don’t let’s have that “it’s me or that cat” argument again.’ I understood this. I had heard this argument. ‘Pick me Kevin’ I thought gleefully.

I stood stock still as they stared at each other. The room was charged with the heaviest of emotions. My heart raced. ‘She’s going to leave,’ I thought joyfully. But they fell into each others arms. Rubbish.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she burbled, crocodile tears streaming from her eyes. ‘I know how much you love that cat.’

‘I’m sorry too,’ Kevin told her. ‘Oh god, can’t you see what she’s doing,’ I thought. Rachel detached herself from him. She wiped the false tears from her eyes and approached me. I was wary I can tell you.

‘We’re going to be friends, aren’t we?’ she trilled. And then she did something that she had never done before. She stroked my silky fur. I enjoyed the feel of her soft hand and despite myself responded to her ministrations. Her stroke was pleasantly light compared to Kevin and Gaz. However, a cat has pride. ‘I don’t come that easy,’ I told her. It took a can of tuna and a good ten minutes brushing me outside before she won this particular cat round.

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Comments by other Members

halfwayharry at 17:41 on 29 April 2004  Report this post
Thanks to everyone that gave me feedback on this story before. I have updated it to take many of your points into account. (I didn't realise that I was going to get rid of them).

The only thing I haven't worked on at this point is the 'reveal' and plan to attend to this later.


Zigeroon at 18:55 on 29 April 2004  Report this post

Brilliant. First time I've read it and it is amusing with a great ending.

Friday at 19:33 on 29 April 2004  Report this post
Peter, Excellent. First time reading. I love the narrator’s voice. He tells a good story. Danny the cat - has got attitude.

Favourite lines:-
- I had often followed Kevin almost to the door of the temple. - He called it the ‘pub’. (classic)
- Something told me that this woman wasn’t going away. (Great)

For the line: -
‘Oh no,’ he said, looking first at the havoc that I had wreaked while he was out and then me. (Maybe... 'and then ‘at’ me.)

It’s all good. Loved the ending.
Really enjoyed it, made me laugh.
All the best,

Becca at 19:41 on 29 April 2004  Report this post
Not sure what happened here, Peter, I'd read your story and commented, I'm sure. Yet... I remember saying I wished he'd kept Elvis as a name. Did you edit it or something and lose the comments from before?

Becca at 19:42 on 29 April 2004  Report this post
Oh sorry,I see it's updated.

Silverelli at 17:53 on 30 April 2004  Report this post
This is great, Peter.
Very imaginative. Lit bits I liked were Elvis referring to 'my favourite", the jealousy factor, and the overall cat's perception.
Its a very trippy read. Were you on LSD when you wrote this? Just kidding.
I'm a dog person and generally not very fond of cats, but I do like Elvis.



I agree with whoever, said Elvis is better than Danny, come on, the King of Rock and Roll. Who was ever a cool Danny?

Friday at 18:02 on 30 April 2004  Report this post
I like the fact he is now called 'Danny' - Danny the cat, how cool is that. (oh, look I'm rapping).


‘Danny’ in Grease… Sinatra played a ’Danny’ – ‘Danny’ the cat in ‘I Hate Her’ by Halfwayharry – see loads.
I rest my case. Dx

halfwayharry at 22:42 on 30 April 2004  Report this post
Wow, thanks very much everybody. I'm glowing. Glad to see you have great taste in music Adam.

Ralph at 20:24 on 02 May 2004  Report this post

This is brilliant. Add me to the list of admirers for Elvis/Danny.

Even though I profess to being a cat lover, I also have to admit that I was a little suspicious of his stand point to begin with. I really thought he was doing his best to wind Rachel up, but by the ending my heart went out to him.

You really seem to have the feline psychology down to a fine art... Hopefully I'll be able to hold a bit more sway with our two monsters now I've read this... :)

Thanks for sharing it



halfwayharry at 00:58 on 05 May 2004  Report this post
Thank you Ralph.I will admit that there are echoes of my own previous bachelor existence in the story seen through a cat's eyes. I once took a three-legged cat home in a drunken state because I thought it was cold. That's another story.

Certainly appreciate you comments.


Jim Beard at 08:16 on 11 May 2004  Report this post

As someone who is owned by five cats I am with Kevin on this one. However, what will happen when Danny starts his own amorous adventures, will he desrt Kev for the paws of another? Just as well that Rachel started to come round otherwise it would have been curtains for her.

Enjoyed it very much.


halfwayharry at 17:14 on 11 May 2004  Report this post
Thanks Jim

Danny has been ahem 'attended to' by the vet so that shouldn't be an issue.

Shani at 09:39 on 30 January 2008  Report this post
I loved this - especially the tone you put into Danny's dialogue

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