There’s me, Lee, a lady cat. I’m the one telling the story.
Mom and dad, my human parents.
Tom and Sukie, my best feline friends.
Woof, a visiting Persian kitten with a daft name.
BLAME THE MOUSE!
Woof’s been here a week and it’s been great having him around. Every day we’ve had a different adventure, one was hunt-the-kitten when Woof decided to go walkabout through the gardens. Mom was wild with worry and dad wasn’t much better.
It was dad who set off a search, roping in some of the near neighbours while I was locked in the house with mom. She had me on her lap most of the time. I tried to convey to her that Woof would be fine, that he was an intelligent youngster who already knew his way around. If only she could speak my language! I felt for her though, after all she was in charge of Woof and if something awful happened she would take the blame.
Woof was found, of course, and I had to smile when I heard where. He’d not gone very far at all; he was discovered taking a nap in next door’s shed. From what I gathered it was Smokey who gave the game away. Seeing him pawing at the door roused the neighbour’s curiosity. If it was my shed I’d have looked in there first, which confirmed my suspicions that humans aren’t always as bright as they seem. How can you conduct a search without investigating the obvious places? I heard the neighbour say that Woof must have climbed in through the open window and considering the height of it I can only feel proud that he managed to get up to it at all. That’s my boy, I thought, as I listened to the story. I think dad also felt that way.
Yesterday’s torrential rain put an end to outside play. It was okay for me to go out but mom was worried in case Woof caught a chill. Silly mom! It was warm rain, not that icy stuff we get in winter. Still, we have to trust the judgement of humans sometimes!
It hit me as I stepped over the cracks in the crazy paving, that sniffing around without Woof wasn’t much fun. I’d been teaching him all sorts of interesting stuff, like how to aim his pee at dad’s prize roses without getting caught on the thorns. On the serious side I did show him how to cover his pee with soil. Swatting flies was another way of passing time. Woof was quite good at that. I had to stop him chasing butterflies, though, when I had to prod him out of some thistles. He’d been looking up instead of checking where he was going. Not something a cat should ever do. One of the best games we had was lying in the long grass pretending to be big tigers stalking squirrels. Not that they seemed to care, they were too busy rushing round even to notice we were there.
That’s the trouble when grass is allowed to grow, the squirrels think it’s a playing field. Even as Woof and I walked out after today’s siesta a couple of them were still running round in circles. It’s anybody’s guess what game they were playing. Knowing how excited Woof gets I held him back until the racing nutters had zipped off. I didn’t want anything to go awry on such a magnificent day. Summer had taken ages to arrive and I wanted nothing else but to enjoy it. Mom and dad, too. Mom said she wanted to sunbathe in her new bikini when she came back from shopping. Dad said he couldn’t wait to see her in it. I was certain he’d seen her in it before but I could be mistaken. A lot of dressing and undressing goes on in our house and I can’t keep up with everything.
Of course things went wrong when Woof and I saw the field mouse at the bird feeder. From our hiding place behind the rockery we watched one run up the branch the feeder was hanging from, saw him scurry up the feeder to the top level hole where he sat on the tiny perch and helped himself to a gourmet meal. We couldn’t catch him while he was in the feeder but we left the rockery and waited for him to come out. Sadly, he saw us and went up the tree instead of down. Fed up with waiting Woof decided to take matters into his own paws. He jumped onto the same branch and waited for mouse to come by. The idea was to catch him before he got to the feeder. I knew it was a mistake but Woof wouldn’t listen. That’s the trouble with youngsters, they think they know everything.
While he waited in front of the feeder, I remained on the ground looking up. I saw the mouse coming and waved a paw to Woof, who then got thoroughly excited. He saw the mouse and lunged forward. The mouse scarpered and Woof tried to follow, completely forgetting they were on a narrow bough. He fell, well slithered to start with, but then he went down straight ... into ... the pond. Plop! Oh dear, I sensed trouble looming.
You’d think, by dad’s prompt appearance, that he’d been waiting for catastrophe to strike. He ran down the garden so fast you’d think he had ants in his khaki shorts. His language was what mom calls ripe. Unfortunately for Woof he’d fallen into the middle of the pond which meant dad had to wade in to get him. It was that or let the little chap drown. Woof, of course, was struggling in the water, once again bogged down by that green weed. You should have seen him. I thought it was bad the first time but now he looked like a slimy green monster. Bits of wood stuck to his head looked like antlers. It was really hard not to laugh.
Needless to say I was punished. You’d have thought I’d personally pushed Woof into the pond the way dad went on, and on, and on. In the end I bolted up the stairs out of the way, leaving poor Woof to undergo yet another cleansing operation. I only ventured down when it was all over.
I dreaded to think how mom would react when she came home. When she did, although I expected an explosion, she hardly said a word. Even as she looked at the green mess on the floor she was grinning at dad, saying that something was positive. Well I knew what that word meant. She told me when I first got taken in that I was a positively lovely pussy cat. It must mean that she’d grown to like green weed.
Well, I’m leaving them to it. One way and another it’s been a hectic day.