There’s a black and white cat in the neighbourhood who is a bit of a comic turn. There’s a huge fir tree of some type over there – so thick and bushy it actually sits on the ground (maybe it’s more of a gigantic shrub – it’s taller than my house). All the cats around here love to sit under it to watch the world go by – I’ve seen mine there as well.
The dogs have cottoned onto this and I often see them having a close, hopeful look at the bush. It really annoys me when they’re walked along here off the lead, and they’re digging around looking for cats. Dogs shouldn’t be off the leash while they’re on the road. But that’s another issue for another day…
Just now I saw the Comic Turn, the black and white cat, approaching the bush and staring under it very hard. A hairy black cat shot out of the other side, rattled. He paused to lick his fur, then slunk away across the road. Comic Turn stayed where he was for a while, sitting on the grass. Then he stepped closer to the pavement and squatted down for some real cat business, his tail sticking straight up in the air.
Suddenly a little boy rode past on his bike.
Comic Turn started a little, but held his position till he was done. Then he turned round, raked the grass, and hung around a little longer. I think he was aware of me sitting over here at my desk – my window was open and he kept looking over as though he could hear me laughing.
Bold as brass, that cat. But wait… I’ve not finished. Behind me my Siamese cat F. started wailing and crying and howling, as is his habit – “I want food… something good, not this junk. Bring me chicken! And maybe we can sit on the sofa tooooo.” He hadn’t come into the room with me and his lugubrious wails were drifting distantly through the house, but Comic Turn stopped scratching around, shivered, and galloped away home as fast as he could.
Oh well – show’s over.