The adventures of the boy cats



Top: Rufus; Bottom: Oscar (and we need to clean the windows eek)

Rufus and Oscar have settled into London life. Again. They’ve both carved out their neighbourhood territories and places they go to sleep in the sun. There’s a great big enormous cat that lives somewhere near. It’s the size of a very small cow. A very small cow that has slashed poor Mr Rufus’ little leather ears. Little leather ears from too much Oscar licking them. Soft leather ears, are I suppose, quite easy to rip.

Sometimes Oscar takes a while to come home and we go down the street and around the block and then out into the back garden again, calling, “Oscar, Oscar… Oscar. Puss puss puss puss. Puss puss puss puss. Oscar”. And on it goes. Usually Oscar comes back. The other night Oscar did not.

I wandered down the road, singing the usual Oscar call. A few doors down I heard meowing and I looked and I looked and I thought, “He’s in one of those bins”. Surely not. He’s behind that garden door. But he can get out of there easily. Not the bin. Not the gate. Follow the quiet sound of the Oscar meow. Meow. Raow. Raow. Rrrrraaaoowwwwwww.

Oh. There you are Oscar. You’re in that man’s house aren’t you. Now it’s all falling into place. The man. Who says you come into his house. My brother said a cat can’t just get into someone’s flat without a bit of cooperation from the human occupier.

Ring ring ring ring ring. All the doorbells of all the flats. It’s dark up where you are. But at least I can see you and you’re alive. Oscar. Oooh, here come footsteps and somebody opening the door. Ah, you’re not from that flat. Oh. Really, the guy is feeding Oscar. Right. That explains why he’s always talking about Oscar when he walks past us when we’re out in the front garden.

The neighbours all know the guy who’s flat Oscar is stuck in. The lights are out. I think the worst. He’s fallen asleep and Oscar won’t get out until tomorrow. Kevin thinks even more worst – the guy is dead. I stand outside in the freezing cold watching the house. Talking to Oscar. We’ll get you out little Oscar as soon as we can. But it might not be until tomorrow now. The police can’t come and knock the door down. (We did check).

It’s freezing. Free. Zing. I walk a few meters back home. But I keep my boots and coat on while I put Edith to bed. She’s asleep in minutes and I go back to stand guard for Oscar. Poor little cat. It’s still freezing so I go home again. Back. Home. Back. Home. Ring the doorbell. Home. Back. Ring the doorbell. Talk to Oscar. At least he’s ok.

What if the guy is dead? Ok, well the police will come tomorrow. We’re going to have to stop the guy feeding Oscar. Now we know why he’s ballooned. Even the vet said he’s getting a bit big.

Kevin says we’ll wait till midnight. Then what? I ask him.
He’s not sure. Nor am I. I decide I’ll go to bed soon. But I’ll wait up till pub closing time and keep checking but in the meantime I write a note for the door. A little drawing of a cat with a speech bubble saying he’s stuck inside and he’d like to go home please.

Sure enough. At 11.45pm. Not long after pub closing I am heading to the door. I’ve still got my boots and coat on. Kevin says, “He’s coming”. Little Oscar is slinking up on unsteady feet. Creeping long and low like a ferret, looking around. I open the door and he swiftly slinks in and I pick him up and he’s overjoyed to be home. Purrrr purrrr claws in my chest dancing feet purrr purrrr purrrrrrrrrr claws ouch ouch ouch yes hello cat glad you are home little cat I hope you don’t go visiting like that again.






7 responses to “The adventures of the boy cats”

  1. Frau Haselmayer avatar

    Oh, soooo go to read he came home in the end! I’m really glad that our cats can’t go outside because I’d be worried nonstop…

  2. Clare avatar

    Oh Oscar! So glad it turned out well but that is one cheeky neighbour. I had a ginger puss come in my kitchen window and sleep on my bed at my flat in Bondi years ago. I was flattered but, being a cat person, always thought “my god, your poor people”.It was a relief when he stopped popping in.

  3. erin avatar

    i love this story. i’m glad it had a happy (minus the clawing) ending.

  4. Kim avatar

    Oh, Oscar – no more being tempted by others! Our original cat, Squiggle, moved out of our house, and now lives up the road, and around the corner – tempted by an elderly man and a never ending supply of cat food. That was four years ago.

  5. Andrea avatar

    phew..but I wouldn’t be happy with that neighbour at all…naughty man…though I understand his attraction as they are both really beautiful cats.

  6. dep avatar

    Hey Charlotte, Well today’s my birthday and the card i got from my boyfriend said: is this Mango and Bunny on the card? YES. I was completely sure a some photo of mine online had been ripped off – so i looked you up. Firstly – sorry.

    Secondly, you have two eerily similar boy versions of my (girl) lilac and blue burmese. The photo on the card you took is exactly like dozens of my own photos of my cats curled up together.

    And your story about Oscar is just like when one of them goes out for too long. They usually live in Wellington, NZ but are currently on vacation in Wanaka, NZ. Mango the blue one is i think out getting second dinner from someone now….

  7. Steve Horlock avatar
    Steve Horlock

    Charlotte, I’ve just downloaded the Windows 7 Theme “Animal Affection”, and couldn’t believe the “Cats Nap” desktop image. They look so much like my cats, Ralf and Curly.
    What sort of cats are they? Ralf was a Burmese Blue, and Curly a Lilac Pointed Siamese. They would spend a lot of time sleeping like that. They are no longer around, but I’ll never forget them.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *