That darn cat

I found myself engaged in a bizarre argument last night. I answered the door after a staccato burst of unexpected knocking, to find myself face to face with a slightly irate woman, who proceeded to harangue me over the behaviour of my cat. This was odd, to my mind, for several reasons

1. She turned up on my doorstep at half past midnight. I'm not familiar with the rules of etiquette when making such a complaint, but the words "at a reasonable hour" must surely apply
2. Cats are not generally famed for their obedience, and their behaviour tends to be their own affair, rather than that of their owners.
3. I don't own a cat

The last was a bit of a sticking point, as I'm not entirely sure she believed me when I disavowed ownership of any felines. Some gentle prodding on my part eventually teased out why she thought I was responsible for the troublesome moggie in question. Apparently a large black and white cat has taken to resting for prolonged periods on my doorstep. I'm already well aware of this, having worried that I might have injured the poor creature after inadvertently treading on it a couple of weeks ago. For what I was told, it seems that particular experience hasn't severed the cat's attraction to my doormat. Of course, I found the fact that she knew where the cat could be found slightly creepy, since my front door, down a short flight of stairs and around a corner, is generally out of the way of prying eyes.

Despite my protests of innocence, the woman proceeded to tell me the cause of her concerns, namely that a large black and white cat (such as has been seen resting on my doormat several times - I'm sure I was cast a suspicious glance when she mentioned that again), has taken to invading her flat through her cat flap, terrorising her own cat, and generally wreaking merry havok. Various cures have been attempted, such as installing a new cat flap, and a new front door, but to no avail. Fortunately, she provided me with a clear line of defence when she told me that this behaviour has been going on for some eight months, whilst I've only been living here since December. Recognition flickered in her eyes. Unfortunately this turned out to be because she was victim of a mishap last year that left her flat without running water for 4 days courtesy of yours truly (or more accurately a plumber hired by yours truly, but trust me when I say that that distinction cut little mustard with the waterless). Despite my best efforts, I could tell I was not rising in her estimation.

Eventually, when there was little more to be said, and I'd apologised for slights both real and imagined, she left. As I watched her go, a black shadow stole out of the darkness, approached me, and then nestled snugly on my doormat. I looked at the cat, which bore that smug self satisfied look on it's face that seems common to cats everywhere, but which seemed even more smug than normal in this instance. I bade the cat farewell - the cat said nothing in response - and returned to bed.

Thought iMark at March 10, 2006 10:54 PM | TrackBack