Neighbourhood Watch Cat

Living on the second floor, and being Cat’s concierge, I had quite a lot of exercise going up and down the stairs to let him in and out.

I also spent rather more time in the garden and checking the streets after dark than most of my neighbours when I needed to find him.

Until last year, even when it was very cold, he liked to spend a fair amount of time outside.

So, several years ago I went out to fetch him on a cold dark night. One of those where you feel your breath starting to freeze in the air in front of you. I walked into the garden to look for him, and saw a youth standing on the grass outside my ground floor neighbours’ window. I stepped back and asked him what he was doing.

He pointed the window. “Look,” he said. “It’s open. There’s someone inside.” He beckoned me over, leading me to believe I must be fairly cabbage looking.

By this time Cat had come to me and I picked him up.

Feeling unequal to dealing with the youth and protecting my neighbours’ property, despite having read every Famous Five book ever published, I gave the youth his chance of escape.

“Go and call the police,” I ordered him. This now indicates to me that this was the era before everyone had mobile ‘phones, so we’re probably talking late nineties. The youth ran off.

I raced round to the front of the building and buzzed another neighbour; an ex naval captain and keen rugby player.

“You watch the windows,” he instructed me. “I’ll call the police.”

It didn’t seem the right time to argue, and after all this was a man used to commanding sailors on nuclear submarines, but I did wonder what I was supposed to do if the burglars climbed out of the window; set the cat I was holding onto them perhaps? Continue reading


Happy Day at the Vet’s With SuperCat

Two o’clock in the afternoon, and Cat and I were at the vet’s once again.

It was time for his annual boosters, and to see how the treatment has been going.

A nice chat with the vet first to tell her how he’s been while Cat stayed in his basket. She reckons the cortizone is responsible for his renewed jumping powers.

Cat made a reluctant appearance, for once not relishing being the centre of attention. Continue reading


He is truly a Prince of Cats.
And I say this despite the fact that he wanted me to get up and let him roam around at three in the morning.
Before last night, I had been thinking that maybe Mother would come to visit Cat in the guest room, where he could feel safe and secure.
This morning when I moved to the door, he followed me. It was a lot noisier than last night, and he started to have second thoughts a few yards along the corridor, but he didn’t protest when I picked him up and carried him down to Mother’s flat. She was delighted to see him.
He was round eyed and scared; ignoring us, looking for dark corners to hide in. Maybe it was because Mother kept calling him a dog. I put a note on the door so that the carers would know he was there.
I told Mother that if we were calm and quiet he would settle.
She sat on the sofa and followed him with her eyes.
I broke the calm when he leapt onto the kitchen counter. It’s designed to accommodate people in wheelchairs so lower than most, but it’s years since he’s jumped on the counter at home. My “No!” was probably heard across the county. It worked anyway.
Sure enough he soon started to make himself at home. I’m sure he recognised Mother’s smell. He stayed at her old house a lot. When he jumped up and sat beside her on the sofa, she beamed.
Continue reading