Maison de Moggy: I paid money to be ignored by bastard cats

By the age of 20 some people have achieved great things.  I, by comparison, had paid good money to be ignored by cats.

The idea behind Maison de Moggy is nothing short of genius. A pop-up café which caters to the most destructive modern vice of all: cat love. We’re a society that just fucking loves cats.

After all, just look at the cult following our Library Cat has.

Go to Google and mash your hands on the keyboard – I’m willing to bet that at least one of the results was someone gushing about the furry little psychopaths.

But there’s one big problem – our love for cats is by-and-large one sided. We adore them in the hope that they’ll love us back, which they never do. Because cats are bastards.

It will come as no surprise, then, that this is Maison de Moggys main weakness.

And it’s a shame, because that’s really the main attraction.

They just couldn’t summon any love out of their shrivelled, awful cat hearts. That day, at least, they just weren’t that keen on people.

The ones up in their main section were basically that kid your mum made you invite to your sixth birthday party – they’d come up, eat some of the cake and then fuck off back to whatever dark corner they’d slithered out from without a second glance.

Occasionally, they’d step in the tea, and that’s where the previous metaphor failed a bit.

And that’s not to mention the two who’d been interred in the miniature Cat Gulag downstairs, the “Relaxation Room”.

The smoky one was aggressive and fast, making a dash for sweet freedom at least twice during our brief visit.

The black one, however, didn’t even have a spirit left to break. It just sort of lay there, making weird noises.

The worst part was that the website had advertised something which was basically paradise, but with shedding.

What I got was an hour of occasional petting, interspersed with being given the same disdain that someone gives a turd they’ve just found on their windscreen wiper.

It was like Freshers Week all over again.

Despite all this, If you’re a cat-lover, I don’t understand you, but I’d encourage you to give Maison de Moggy a try.

Maybe we just caught them on a bad day. They’ll love you, for sure.

For everyone else, the bottom line is that the place is pretty underwhelming. The staff are nice. The tea and cakes are alright.

They won’t change your life, but at least they might numb that special kind of shame reserved for when you’re ankle-deep in rented cats, which are gorging themselves on cake crumbs like the scavenging little tossers they are.