The Aargh-It’s-Those-Cats

I’m not quite sure what’s happening, but I think word is getting out amongst the cat community that we offer a safe space for cats shut out their houses during the day.

No, that’s not strictly correct, actually. We don’t offer the safe space. It’s often taken whenever we step outside of the front or back door as a small black blur of fluff makes a beeline for the now open portal.

But today we were visited by a cat which, to all intents and purposes, looks awful. It looks filthy as buggery. Like absolutely, disgustingly filthy. As if someone has taken a white cat with black markings (one of which looks like the Mickey Mouse silhouette so beloved of Disney) and used it to clean something that was only a couple of shades of manky away from being disposed of for good.

If the cat were listed in a paint catalogue it would probably be called something like rusty cream. Or honeyed white. But it’s mucky. Plain and simple.

Except I don’t actually think it is. I think it’s designed to look that way, but isn’t. It just has unfortunate markings, is all. Like if you had, say, a birthmark that looked like a dick slap bang in the middle of your forehead. That would be unfortunate. I think this cat is the same, except instead of the penis birthmark, it just has a creamy brown fur combo which looks hideous.

Anyway, whether it’s filthy or not, it’s now joined the team for trying to get into the house. But it does it in a less cute way than Trixie. It basically stands and stares through the cat flap. Like proper stares. Trixie looks through the cat flap and does a cute meow type thing. This one stares. Like that YouTube video of the angry chipmunk. It’s just like that. Staring. Always staring. It’s not so bad during daylight hours, but at night it’s a little like seeing the face of a very angry looking ghost cat.

It gives you the willies.

Today it tried an approach from both sides of the house. It had been round the back to no avail, so it came and sat on the path at the front of the house. I’m not sure what it was hoping would happen. I just caught a glimpse of it out of the front room window. I do know that if I had opened the front door to find it sitting there, staring, I would possibly have screamed.

It’s only a couple of facial expressions away from sticking its head through a freshly axed hole in a door, I reckon.

I’m fairly sure, as we head into spring (on the calendar, at least – the jury is well and truly out on the weather) and barrel towards summer and leaving that back door open, that it’s going to be a long few months of removing different people’s cats from our house.