Saturday 22 June 2019

My cat came home with a new friend.

Harley returned home last night after a couple of days away doing tomcat stuff.
 I was alerted to his arrival by the scream of my wife. Bounding downstairs with a much zeal as a man who'd just spent 16 hours at work could muster, it was to see my daughter's cat sitting patiently at the patio door waiting to come in.

    At the same moment my beloved hurtled past admonishing me to slaughter the wretched cat with a carving knife. I think the epithet was wretched, but might just have begun with the letter "F" - I wasn't really taking much notice because of my astonishment.

    Harley isn't the biggest cat in the world, but clasped between his jaws was the biggest rat I've ever seen. The ex rodent I wasn't wriggling so I assumed it must have met its end courtesy of my daughter's moggy.

    'Sorry, pal. You're on your own," I advised him having been the recipient of several similar threats by She-who-must-not-be annoyed.

    Clearly realising that he was not going to be admitted. Harley dropped the animal and began to eat it.

    Five minutes later my wife called down demanding to know if it was gone. By  "it" I assumed her to mean both of them.

    "Nearly," I answered, intrigued as to how such a small cat could consume so much meat, and everything else as well. Maybe his stomach is a feline TARDIS. A muffled retching sound was my only answer.

   Ten minutes later the rat was gone, completely gone, and Harley mewed politely to come in.

    Just how he managed such a feat will always be a mystery but Harls is a real cool cat, and my favorite of the two my daughter brought unannounced to the house one day, and left behind when she relocated with her partner. The other has just set the new Olympic record for sleeping - it's about two weeks now I think. The closest she''s ever come to a rat is running away from one.

    
    

    

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