For the record…

I hope I didn’t put you off last time with my list of things I don’t do. That must have been a bit disappointing. Plus, it’s not an exhaustive list. Sorry. So this probably wouldn’t be a good time to discuss the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny…? I guess I should make it up to you… even the scores… whatever you wish to call it. Shall I tell you about the things I can do (that’s not an exhaustive list either, by the way)?

Reflexes? Like a cat. I remember once walking past some children playing hoopla. Sensing a saucer-sized ring of stinging flying rubber zooming at my head, I instinctively (and without looking) put my hand out and caught it. I’ve never seen a bunch of children’s mouths open so wide. It was tempting to toss the ring back into one of the gaping gobs. But I didn’t, so don’t panic.

I think it’s because of the way my brain works… It’s like a V12 engine… super-charged, super-powered and super-speed. When I need it to, it goes into overdrive and runs so fast that the world seems to run in slow motion. Mind you, it also goes into overdrive when I definitely don’t need it to. Like at 3 in the morning when I’m trying to sleep! You too? You see, we’re not so different, are we?

Sense of smell? I would give any bloodhound a run for his money. It can be quite creepy when working in all-female environments though. Work that one out for yourself. But once I know your smell, I can tell if you’ve been in a room in the past 30 minutes. These daft ‘designer perfumes’ do make life difficult, though. Are they all actually trying to smell the same? They seem to smell either of washing powder or a pick-and-mix counter…

Hearing? Well there was that incident when I had it tested and they had to stop the test after about half a minute because they didn’t have equipment good enough to test my hearing. It’s bat-like, apparently. Is that irony? I’m not sure, I have never been good with irony.

It can be a nuisance, as I live in the centre of town, right on the fight path to the local University. And no, that wasn’t a typo – try sleeping through their pugilistic meander back to their holes of residence at 3am on a week night.

Freshers’ week – or ‘Threshers’ month’ as we like to call it (after the local offie – sorry, off licence) – can be a particular torture. I was considering buying one of those high-pitched cat-annoying things, you know: it sends out a high-pitched signal which is supposed to annoy cats and teenagers, but that plan came a cropper when I realised that the only person who would hear it would be downstairs’ kitten… And me. It makes my ears itch like they’re being tickled by a bad joke in moon boots.

But of course, there has to be one downfall, eh?

Eyesight? Yes please. Now I’m not saying that my eyesight is bad, but I’ve got to the stage where my glasses have to be thinned down. It’s not a good look. And worse, if I want to read something close up, I have to take my glasses down and shut one eye and peer very closely. The only problem with this is that my dominant eye is not my ‘good’ one! Oh, you have no idea of the amusement this causes… For other people.

I don’t do detail, but boy, can I spot movement. The slightest flutter of a leaf and my eye is immediately drawn to it. Predator instinct, I suppose. Which would be great if I was a tomcat out on the prowl for a mouse.

So… hearing like a bat, eyesight like a bat, too.

Great.

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