'You know Cato, your freezer ambush ploy, I really congratulate you. It was very, very good.'


So says Inspector Clouseau to his man servant, Cato, who has been tasked with keeping the Inspector's ninja skills in tip top condition. This manifests in surprise and sneak attacks by Cato who will suddenly pounce on his unwitting master, even if it means spending large amounts of time in a freezer lying in wait, only to emerge wearing an icicle death mask.


Let me introduce you to my Siamese cat, Palermo, who has been channeling Cato for the longest time.



Any of you out there who own a Siamese will know instinctively what is coming next...


You are fast asleep, maybe slumbering, snoozing with that delicious wallowing pleasure, allowing yourself the luxury of a bit of a lie in. Right? Wrong!

Along comes Palermo. Pissed off that his bowl has remained empty for a little longer than the regulation feeding time, and makes his first move. Like ninja cat, he gets nearer and nearer and nearer. He begins to shout - a keening, pitiful wail. If this doesn't stir me, the ante is upped and he moves in for the kill: A raking bite across the forehead, a closing of teeth around cheek fat. I yelp, curse and get up before further sorties occur. Works every time, sadly. But he's not quite finished. As I prepare his food, little nips to my exposed calf indicate that I am not chopping fast enough.


Later, for sport, he has taken to lying in wait on the stairs, knowing at some point I will run up or down them. As soon as I increase my tempo in response to door or phone, the chase begins. Somehow, like his ancient relatives on the Serengeti, I am miraculously transformed into Wildebeest and he, Lion, as he gallops beside me attempting to bring me down, paws wrapping around my legs. 


It is after such encounters that he feels all is right with his world. His work here is done. He has sharpened up my ninja skills for another day's combat. He has exacted his required pound of flesh.

Tomorrow, the dawn will rise and this son of Siam will lick his paws in readiness of the crown duels that he has come to relish.

He's no longer a cat, but a Cato. Siamese if you please, Siamese if you don't please. 


As you walk down Kafka Street with me, you are going to see a lot more of this guy appearing in various articles. Get to know him. He is, after all, the real star of this rodeo, and he's with me every step of the way. 

Move over Marley, roll over Bob, there's a new mane man in town. Palermo, the cherootiest Clint Eastwood in the feline world. His yawns are legendary, his claws are sharp, his feral fancies, notorious, and his likes... Lion-size. Just like his dad x Click To Tweet