Fourth Form of Madness

This week a new rule became installed at our house.  No-one, under no circumstances is allowed to let the cat our after 4pm.  Yes puss now has a curfew.  I’m not one for imposing rules on free spirits but this one definitely needs to be chained a little.  Over the years puss has developed some bad and one could say slightly annoying habits.  The first is she forgets she has been fed.  A little forgetful is fine but not when it is coupled with a demanding on the second meow at your feet. This loop continues from the time she gets up till the time she is locked in the laundry at night with a nano-second of relief provided when she is actually eating. It is like living groundhog day over and over again.  But I got to say she sure has helped me practice shutting out distracting noises.

This second bad habit came on in the last year or so.  Bedtime would come for the household and I would go open the front door to allow her to come in as she is always usually malingering on the front path or hiding in the hedge.  It used to work like clockwork, I open the door, puss runs in, gets a pat and then gets installed in the laundry (aka her bedroom that she shares with the dog).  Now it has turned into an odd ritual of me begging for her to come in and bribing her with whatever goodies are on hand.

The other night it reached it’s crescendo.  It started as usual, me hovering at the door in my shortie pjs trying to entice  the cat inside whilst still retaining some of my dignity with the neighbours.  Each time I edged closer to her she retreated away a few steps.  I got down to her level and tried the old, “here puss, puss, puss, puss” Nope not giving up any ground.  Next I tried the old “I’m just going to the letterbox, and I am so not interesting in you puss”. No joy, the minute I set one foot in her direction she was off to the edge of the road, which she knows sets my heart in my mouth.  After 15 minutes or so this was wearing thin, it was time for the big guns – food, puss is not one to deny her desires.  So there I am, under the moonlight shaking her bag of biscuits whilst by this time hissing between clenched teeth “Here kitty kitty kitty”.  Nope, puss has chosen this moment to exercise some self control over her usually out of control eating habits.

And then my solution appears.  For some time now I have been feeding a stray cat that I think was left behind when some people around the block from me moved out.  Despite my hubby’s disapproval, I have snuck biscuits out to the friendly and full of personality little fellow when he has come looking for food.  The shaking of the cat biscuits was like music to his ears and like the piped piper I led him to my front yard in a kitty trance.  Well the minute puss clapped eyes on her nemesis, she turned tail and trotted off inside quick smart.  Nothing like a lesson in gratefulness to motivate right action.  I left a healthy handful of biscuits for my partner in crime and gave him an affectionate pat on the head that he loves and then legged it inside before the approaching headlights caught me in their view.