For two days, a cat ( well, not much more than a kitten, really) has spent every waking moment parked on the bin peering into our kitchen window, begging for food, begging to be let in – which we did, eventually, feeling so sorry for him, but Mr. Stub was not at all pleased, particularly when the young monkey ate Stub’s dinner then sat in his bed with the very clear intention of making himself at home. After a brief sojourn in the garden, he came back and made Stub’s life hell, sitting in the garden window in all weathers, pleading to be let back in.
So, what to do? We twittered his picture to no avail. We fed him, repeatedly, several sachets of Felix a day. He seems perpetually hungry, he practically inhales whatever you put down. He’s shown no sign of going home, sticking it out through rain and hail. It’s clear he once had a collar, but it’s not there now. Was he lost? Abandoned? Or just a young chancer looking for free meals? He’s clearly a well cared for animal, he certainly doesn’t look like he’s been living rough, and he’s so beautiful! He looks like an expensive pedigree of some kind. I was all for letting him back inside but it made Stub so unhappy; just having him sitting in the window, staring in at Stub from the other side of the glass has had Stub living on his nerves.
As was I. I’ve been so worried about this poor animal I haven’t been able to work or rest, and so this morning, I set off to visit every house in the village with his picture on the iphone, hoping to find someone who knew where he belonged.
I didn’t have to look far, the second house I called at knew him very well indeed; he arrived in their kitchen out of nowhere last week. He’s been living with them ever since… Til he disappeared, two days ago. There was no need for me to trawl the village as they’d already done it to no avail. He’s had his picture on Facebook, too. He isn’t chipped and hasn’t been reported missing, and in the absence of a collar – hard though it is to believe – we’ve had to conclude he’s been dumped.
Anyway, the good people at #6 are more than happy to keep him, and no wonder, he’s adorable: friendly and talkative, very beautiful, very affectionate; he clearly just wants to be loved.
So he’s back ‘home’ now, at number 6, eating his dinner, again. I’ve no doubt we’ll be seeing him often because he seems to have developed a bit of a boy-crush on Mr Stub, such a pity his feelings aren’t reciprocated, because we’d have been more than happy to take him in ourselves if Stub hadn’t been such prissy, agitated old stick over it all.
So it all seems to have ended well and I can breathe again, and so can Mr Stub, but honestly, what sort of a person could dump an angel like this?