I’m not entirely sure how I’m still awake. After an invitation to dinner with friends yesterday evening, arriving home in the early hours, we were awoken with a start by the sound of cats fighting – inside the house.
While gathering our senses, the tearful voice of our fourteen year old daughter drifted across the upstairs landing in panic – “MuuUUUM! – I don’t know what to do!”. I don’t think claws were drawn, but there was some kind of almighty stand-off going on, judging by the yowling and hissing.
Somehow Kaspar had escaped the safety of our eldest daughter’s bedroom, and was quietly exploring the house in the dead of night. It would appear George – our huge ginger cat – had woken up on Miss 14’s bed, and discovered the ninja-esque intruder in the room.
There was a crash, and the sound of claws on carpet – perhaps the sound of an enormous ginger cat in pursuit of a very fast small black cat. I looked across at the bedside cabinet. 5am.
Moments later I was downstairs in my boxer shorts, searching for the cat. That was when I discovered the cat-flap wasn’t locked. Hopefully no neighbours happened to look out of their bedroom windows at 5am – they would have seen a guy in boxer shorts creeping around the garden with a torch – in search of reflective eyes in the undergrowth. Did I mention it was only a few degrees above freezing?
We thought we had lost Kaspar.
While going from room to room in search of him, our eldest daughter discovered a small black bundle huddled behind a curtain, in the darkest corner of the lounge. I picked him up, and braved carrying him towards his bed – narrowly escaping a blur of claws en-route.
So yes – one step forwards, and fifteen steps back in terms of introducing the cats to each other. We can only guess that our older cat broke into our daughter’s room, and forced the door open (he’s done it before) – which was fine, until young master Kaspar started exploring the house in the dead of night. One rule for George, and another for Kaspar – at least in George’s head.
After settling the cats and children back down, myself and my other half looked at the clock. 5:30am. It wasn’t worth going back to bed.
Fast forward through a long, busy day, and this evening we found ourselves at a pub a few miles out of town, attending the work Christmas party. The second night out in as many nights – and running on fumes.
After posting this to the internet, I’m locking Kaspar up safely in the study, before heading to bed, and falling into a deep, deep sleep.