“I've never met a dog that wouldn't make a better cat”

Thomas Marmalade

So, into my best ginger coat, and off to the Artscape (Owner driving, picking up Owner's Daughter on the way - she works for an important web site). First impression: man selling souvenir programmes in the foyer, kept on yelling “programmes!” very loudly and often, woman also selling programmes called out softer and less often, seemed to be selling the same number. Spotted some other souvenirs: mugs, T-shirts, caps, toy kittens, etc.. Second impression: women get dolled up for the theatre, men don't (but Owner was wearing his old jacket at least). One person was in shorts!

We found our seats, music started, the show begun. My tail and whiskers! What excitement on stage, flashing lights, loud music and then all the theatre cats arriving from every which-way. Nothing like this happens back in old Rondebosch, at least not on the Owner's patch (he doesn't go out at night much either). The whole company dances and leaps about and sings Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats and The Naming of Cats. I've also got three names, but of course I'm only using my public one to sign this review. More dancing and more singing followed without a break. I struggled a bit to get all the words from one or two of the principal male singers (who thought up their great names? Oh yes, T.S. Eliot). The Rum Tum Tugger didn't work too well for me, just a little bit of over-acting (and scratching?) perhaps, but the audience seemed to go for him. In contrast, the female leads were all clear as a bell, as were Bustopher Jones and Old Deuteronomy among the toms. I laughed a lot at the all-singing, all-dancing duet by Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer.

Turned out there are some dogs in the show after all! The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles: bark, bark, bark! Thought they were all a slice or two short of a good ham sandwich with what could have been shoe boxes on their heads and feet, but as the Owner's patch is thankfully a dog-free zone, I'm not that experienced with the canine breed.

The theatre was packed so we elected to stay seated during the interval: great choice! Several of the theatre cats then came right into the audience climbing up and over both vacant and occupied seats. Owner's Daughter got to stroke one behind the ears and I said hello! Audience members with bald heads got singled out for rubs and tickles to general amusement.

Second half was brill! Was taken by the sad story of Gus the Theatre Cat and thrilled by Growltiger's Last Stand at sea against Ghengis and the scary Siamese with swords and pitchforks. Then Skimbleshanks, the railway cat, came on: sang great, I caught all the words. Suddenly on stage was a whole railway engine, conjured out of bits of junk that went pyrotechnic: quite scary!

Great dancing (as well as licking and rubbing) throughout the whole show. Star for me was the magical Mr Mistoffelees who descended from the roof then danced up a storm, the audience clapped him like mad (me as well, my paws still ache, so dictating this review to the Owner). Right at the end Old Deuteronomy guides Grizabella up to the Heaviside Layer. She deserved her new life as she sang the show's signature song, Memory, with verve and passion.

Overall a great show, much appreciated by the audience which gave a deserved standing ovation at the end. My advice to fellow felines: get your own Owners to take you, you'll not be disappointed.

And so home to bed, think I'll let the Owner sleep in to at least six on Sunday, before waking him for breakfast. Miaow!