Angel Whispers

The Cat's Out

In the midst of all the tragic and senseless traumas I still maintain the majority of people have good hearts and loving souls.

I've made a real friend of Donna, the lady from St Louis. At 83 she's a sprightly and amazing woman. Other people in the neighbourhood seem to be friendly and often stop for a chat. I have been lucky to find such a lovely spot.

But I am acutely conscious of being alone now and don't think that feeling is ever going to subside. Even my furry companion is proving to be fickle and sneaky. But then I knew when I took him on that you never own or control a cat.

The other day I was out at the front of my house when the next door but one neighbour pulled up in her car, just as Dennis was entering the yard.

'Is that your cat?' she asked.

Turns out he's been slipping through her cat flap, eating her cat's food, sleeping on her beds and generally acting as if he owns the place. At least she saw the funny side of it, but said she had now taped up her cat flap to keep him out.

I apologised for my devious pet's behaviour, but we both know there isn't much chance of disciplining felines. She said her cat and most others are quite nervous and scuttle off when shouted at, but mine appears to be fearless. I have noticed this. There's a whole gang of cats around here and I have deduced Dennis seems to be the feline Mafia leader.

He knew he'd been rumbled however and slunk inside with a guilty expression, then went off to skulk in the dog cat house.