I’ve been to a cat show today. It consists of people paying to be able to look at cats who do absolutely nothing (and mostly sleep while doing so). I paid the (admittedly smallish) fee willingly.
I undertook torturous effort to be able to see the cats. I ventured out in the inhumane cold. I used two trams and one bus to get to the exhibition hall. Normally, it would take one tram, but there was a diversion. Tram rails cracked on the usual line, apparently from the frost.
There were dozens of cats to see, probably nearing to a hundred. I moved from exhibit to exhibit, going aw all the time as I went. Disappointingly, the cats were placed in cages, though they didn’t seem to be too bothered and just slept in a perfectly nonplussed manner.
I exhibited extreme willpower because I didn’t take any of the cats home. Some of them were actually for sale, which rather puzzled me. What kind of a person would sell their cat? It’s akin to selling a child. When I returned home to my own cat, she either didn’t realise I was cheating on her or didn’t let on.