Cats and the second coming of Jesus.


My cats have to stay indoors.  This is partly because the rules of the Condo. Association specify that outdoor cats must be on a leash, (have you ever tried that!), and partly because there are outdoors creatures which could be a danger to unwary cats (e.g. possums, hawks – but luckily no alligators in my neck of the woods).

Ada, the senior cat has never shown the slightest interest in being outdoors. 

Adelaide, the junior cat would sprint outside, given the slightest moment of inattention on my part when I am opening the front or back door.

She’s done so a few times, but I have been more careful since the day I saw my neighbour (a human) chasing Adelaide, with great oral vigour and with threatened violence. 

This same neighbour has a habit of being angry with the mail-man,  the landscapers, the FedEx and UPS delivery staff, the trash collectors -    the list goes on and on, ending with “Old Uncle Tom Cobley and me”.

She, my next door neighbour, has asserted in her most mild rages that I am a “dumb British person”, an “ a..hole”, and an “arrogant preacher man who should kiss her ass”.

I can ignore her diatribes (indeed after more than three years of harassment I will not even speak to her), but my cat might not be so lucky.  I suspect that, given the opportunity, my neighbour is capable of inflicting G.B.H. on Adelaide.

It’s fairly easy to keep Adelaide indoors, but I cannot curb or end her nocturnal hunting instincts.  Last night she awakened me as she played noisy games with her toy mouse. 

That wasn’t too bad but on the previous night she decided at about 3:00 a.m. to “hunt” the window curtains behind my bed.  She succeeded in bringing the curtains to the ground, together with the curtain rail.

As a result of this lively activity I was aroused from a deep sleep.  For a moment I was tempted to believe that the crashing noise had something to do with the Lord Jesus descending from heaven with a shout and the voice of an archangel.

When I realised that it was something far more important, i.e. Adelaide’s hunting instincts, I muttered “good cat” and tried to get back to sleep.



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