Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns, 13, is a cat. He is most famous for walking over tin foil as part of a BBC Radio 5 Live experiment. He has rightly been compared to space-dog Laika and Edd the Duck.
Have I caught you at a good time? Yes, I was awake. May I commend you on your impeccable timing.
So what's your usual Sunday routine? Well, on a Sunday I often have both of my humans here to attend to me. I usually start the day with loud, persistent meowing outside the entrance to their nest until Shortlegs cracks and lavishes attention and, most importantly, breakfast upon me. I then condescend to play with her, it’s important to keep the humans occupied, and it’s nice to see the joy on their simple faces. She especially loves the game where I hurl green fluffy things around the living room, she retrieves them, and then we repeat the process. I then settle down for the first of my 98 sleeps. At some point Hairylegs will arrive and, in a tribute to my status as ruler of the house, remove me from his side of the sofa.
Sunday is a normal working day for me – that garden gate doesn’t stare at itself – so I go off to work (please don’t ask why I do this, it is beyond all human comprehension). I then alternate between work and sleep until 6pm when the humans prepare my supper. I reward them with play again, and then I sleep, before returning to work. I turn in for the night at about 11pm, 11:40pm, 12:27am, 01:12am, 01:32am….
Five years ago did you think you'd be where you are now? A little over five years ago I was the ruler of a flat in Leeds and then, somewhat unexpectedly, I was the victim of an alien abduction. They took me away in their craft and probed and inspected me. They removed my teeth and some other things too. I was then granted my new kingdom, which I have reigned over ever since. I often wonder what happened to my fellow abduction victims, those doughty, plaid-shirted Kentuckians with their faltering pick-up trucks.
Where will you be in five years? Unless I am the victim of another abduction I intend remaining right here, continuing with my life’s work.
What's your motto in life? Ego sum cattus quod vos es meus mancipium.
I have 24 hours in your hometown. What should I do? My kingdom is called Horatio-Pyewackett-Caractacus-Fearnsville, you are not invited. Should you turn up uninvited, I will be forced to smite you with the highest form of punishment at my disposal. I shall hide under the bath (this is not an idle threat).
You've got thirty minutes in the kitchen. What are you going to knock up? I have my humans to attend to that sort of thing for me.
You've just won £10 on the lottery. Spend or save? Such human fiscal concerns are beneath my contempt and I do not concern myself with them, unless you can exchange this windfall for Whiskas, in which case, spend.
What can't your friends/family understand about you? My minions are not capable of my, higher, form of thought. As a result they understand virtually nothing about me.
What are you currently obsessed with? My career.
What should we all be doing more of? Bringing me tributes and preening and feeding me, obviously.
And finally, when you go to bed tonight, are you looking forward to Monday morning? No, I shall be looking forward to rising again approximately 25 minutes later.
So what's your usual Sunday routine? Well, on a Sunday I often have both of my humans here to attend to me. I usually start the day with loud, persistent meowing outside the entrance to their nest until Shortlegs cracks and lavishes attention and, most importantly, breakfast upon me. I then condescend to play with her, it’s important to keep the humans occupied, and it’s nice to see the joy on their simple faces. She especially loves the game where I hurl green fluffy things around the living room, she retrieves them, and then we repeat the process. I then settle down for the first of my 98 sleeps. At some point Hairylegs will arrive and, in a tribute to my status as ruler of the house, remove me from his side of the sofa.
Sunday is a normal working day for me – that garden gate doesn’t stare at itself – so I go off to work (please don’t ask why I do this, it is beyond all human comprehension). I then alternate between work and sleep until 6pm when the humans prepare my supper. I reward them with play again, and then I sleep, before returning to work. I turn in for the night at about 11pm, 11:40pm, 12:27am, 01:12am, 01:32am….
Five years ago did you think you'd be where you are now? A little over five years ago I was the ruler of a flat in Leeds and then, somewhat unexpectedly, I was the victim of an alien abduction. They took me away in their craft and probed and inspected me. They removed my teeth and some other things too. I was then granted my new kingdom, which I have reigned over ever since. I often wonder what happened to my fellow abduction victims, those doughty, plaid-shirted Kentuckians with their faltering pick-up trucks.
Where will you be in five years? Unless I am the victim of another abduction I intend remaining right here, continuing with my life’s work.
What's your motto in life? Ego sum cattus quod vos es meus mancipium.
I have 24 hours in your hometown. What should I do? My kingdom is called Horatio-Pyewackett-Caractacus-Fearnsville, you are not invited. Should you turn up uninvited, I will be forced to smite you with the highest form of punishment at my disposal. I shall hide under the bath (this is not an idle threat).
You've got thirty minutes in the kitchen. What are you going to knock up? I have my humans to attend to that sort of thing for me.
You've just won £10 on the lottery. Spend or save? Such human fiscal concerns are beneath my contempt and I do not concern myself with them, unless you can exchange this windfall for Whiskas, in which case, spend.
What can't your friends/family understand about you? My minions are not capable of my, higher, form of thought. As a result they understand virtually nothing about me.
What are you currently obsessed with? My career.
What should we all be doing more of? Bringing me tributes and preening and feeding me, obviously.
And finally, when you go to bed tonight, are you looking forward to Monday morning? No, I shall be looking forward to rising again approximately 25 minutes later.
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5Live BBC Radio Experiment Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns Jonathan Lee Sunday Sixty Tin FoilAbout the Author
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- Jonathan
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- Known to some as Jon and others as Jonathan, I'm freelance copywriter, creative and designer. I produce innovative and commercially driven concepts that promote your business and products to stakeholders and customers alike.
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