I was blissfully slumbering away last night when I was rudely awoken at about 4.00am by the most HIDEOUS sounds coming from the living room.
There was a great screeching and warbling, followed by banging and crashing and then more screeching and hissing. Naturally I leapt out of my nice warm bed to see who or what was strangling Fang and turned the light on to a scene out of "Attack of the Killer Kitties" (I'm sure there is such a film, and if there isn't, there should be!).
The upstart cat from the other side of the back fence who has, on occasion, risked life and limb to have a bit of a wander around my back yard had decided to investigate what was on the other side of the cat flap.
What he found was an 8.2kg monster prepared to defend hearth and home to the bitter end. Fang - large at the best of times - had puffed herself up with indignation and was about the same size and shape as a black, furry beach ball. With teeth.
Poor kitty from next door had, by this stage, figured out that curiosity was likely to get him killed, so was making every attempt to find a way out. Not very successfully and pursued, at this point, by both Butch and Fang intent on revenge for this outrage.
I, meanwhile, am trying to get all the doors open as far as possible while avoiding being an incidental casualty of WWIII. There were cats going everywhere! Over the furniture, up the screen door, over the kitchen bench, into the laundry (whoops - dead end) and out again - in the process knocking over the neatly stacked empty bottles and cans like so many skittles.
The poor traumatised beast from next door finally found his way to feedom and dashed off into the night (hopefully) never to return.
Butch and Fang - the home invader gone - resumed their nomal sizes and looked at me as if to say "Well, what are you standing around here for? Let's get back to bed." Which we were all very pleased to do.
It makes me realise, though, that their less than enthusiastic reaction to the introduction of wee Q as a regular household guest is as NOTHING compared to what might have happened if my Beloved had brought round another cat. They've been positively genial in comparison ...
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3 comments:
Good point. And I can so SEE this incident in my mind's eye. Poor foolish 'cat next door'!!!!
This sounds frighteningly similar to the "Nasty Newport Neighbourhood Black Cat" incident of 2000. Except (a) you weren't still pissed from too much red wine, and (b) you didn't have to go to the doctor with a post-bite hand the size of a baseball glove...
Ah yes - I clearly remember the lovely texta drawn around the line of infection and the doctor's cheery words "if it goes beyond the line, go straight to the hospital!" Didn't stop us having a few wines as I remember though ...
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