John doesn't like a cat walking over him all night so Ollie is put outside at bedtime. Also, most of the time Ollie ignores John's sweet-talk - it is a matter of personal grievance that the cat never sits on John's knee but pesters me endlessly.
Last night John had been bed a couple of hours when I went to remove Ollie from the top of the television and put him out the window. The nights are getting cold and Ollie turned on a pathetic performance, yowling and clinging to the top of the set I weakened. "OK," I said to the cat. "But if I let you stay you remain here on top of the television!!!!"
"I promise," yowled Ollie. "Just don't put me OUT."
In the morning I beheld an interesting sight. Ollie was stretched lengthways on John's bed - John was arranged in a mound on the ouskirts with a foot hanging on the floor.
"Has he been here long?" I nervously asked the mound.
"He arrived ten minutes after you went to bed," growled the mound.
"You could have put him out," I ventured.
There was no answer from the mound. Then a hand reached out and tickled Ollie's tum. "It was cold out there," said the mound "wasn't it didums Ollie baby."
Ollie stretched, yawned, looked directly at me and smirked. It was then I understood the cunning nature of the cat. It was all a matter of flattery. John was so delighted that Ollie had selected his bed instead of mine that he'd agree to anything. The cat was IN.
I'm dying to see what happens tonight. I'll let you know the outcome.