I'm in the bathroom dressing after a shower and the door suddenly opens very slowly. From the light of the bathroom through the open door I can see The Maj porning. He's lying on his back with legs akimbo perfectly framed by the doorway while The Boy slumbers in our darkened bedroom. I'm puzzled by the door's movement wondering if a friendly poltergeist is trying to draw my attention to The Maj's comedy pose. It's only after I lean forward to investigate that an explanation presents itself.
As a house cat, The Maj doesn't get the same amount of exercise an outdoor cat might so we've attempted to create various distractions around the flat to encourage activity. One of these attempts at inspiring physical exertion is a piece of elasticated string that dangles from the bathroom door at a height requiring The Maj to jump in order to successfully attack. On this occasion (like so many others), he has failed to disengage his paw and a trip wire of elastic stretches between the bathroom door and where he lies.
Many times, have I entered the bedroom to find The Maj looking startled as he gives a Nazi salute unable to attach his claws from one of his scratching posts. He is a constant source of entertainment and more recently has taken to spring cleaning. On the terrace outside, he's perpetually licking and eating cobwebs – behaviour perhaps indicative of cats' curious nature. Like small children, animals seem to want to sample the world through their mouths and are attracted to movements, instinctively wanting to touch.
Research shows spiders often eat their own webs as they are made of protein so I at least know The Maj's web fetish is harmless and actually acts as a kind of healthy supplement for him. And while his hair may give everything in our flat a ginger tint, I now know if I hold him up to the ceiling, he's at least happy to get rid of some of those hard to reach pesky corner cobwebs.