THE tiger lay languidly on the strong bough of the tree, worn almost smooth by the repeated rubbing of feline pelt on the burnished bark.

Shielded from the sun by the dense canopy of leaves above him, he stretched his front legs out lazily, long sleek muscles rippling, and dug his razor sharp claws into the timber before dragging them back towards him, simultaneously sharpening them further while practising for the surgical like precision of the disembowelment of his next meal.

Satisfied with the result, he hopped nimbly and effortlessly to the dry jungle floor where he continued his wake-up routine.

More stretching ensued, so that muscular blood flow was increased. A thorough clean of each and every working part was meticulously, painstakingly and laboriously carried out. Bladder and bowel were emptied casually and nonchalantly in appropriate places; again dual achievements of obligatory organ function and necessary territory marking were accomplished.

Only then did he stroll off, shoulders hunched, head low, his eyes scanning the horizon for an antelope or zebra that had strayed a little too far from the herd. When in hunting mode, his peripheral vision was diminished; there was no-one around, after all, that was going to attack him.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the problem with your average house cat.

In his head, he is that majestic, tiger hunting the plains. In reality he is confined to an environment that sometimes can’t provide his basic behavioural needs, never mind enrichment and stimulation. The results are almost inevitable.

Damage to precious property is common. The sofa, the bed and the table leg can all become surrogate scratching posts. Pretty soon, clawing them is addictive.

If, due to significant damage, they are replaced, the process becomes even more severe. Similarly, with nothing to hunt, unwanted attention is paid to any moving parts, so that the instinctive thrill of the chase and the subsequent kill can be experienced.

Human feet and hands soon become painfully involved, further reducing interactions. Normal hunting behaviour is replaced by pouncing on your ankles or climbing the curtains, both of which end in tears.

Pretty soon that clean-up process becomes an obsession; relentless over-grooming can occur until the hair is pulled out and the skin becomes bald and raw. Inappropriate elimination (peeing and pooing in the wrong place!) is also likely. You can hardly blame them, when the litter tray is right next to the food bowl. Who would want to go there? And so it goes on.

But all is not lost! With a little bit of thought, much can be done to help. Remember the bough of the tree that he likes to bask on? Make one! It should be up high, so he can survey his kingdom, and the route to it should satisfy his need to climb.

It should include a couple of platforms at different heights. Start grooming him a little every day; it is functional and a useful social interaction. Hunting play is crucial. A toy mouse on the end of a fishing line or a laser pen can help. Go for it, tiger!