Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Two Bay Windows, Two Heart Strings

Now that he has forgiven me for his stay at the cat hotel (which I promise never to repeat), Bunter and I have returned to a nice daily routine of peaceful coexistence. When I first returned a couple of weeks ago, he had to be physically next to me 24 hours a day which was touching in a way but pretty cloying by the third day.

Things are back to normal with him gravitating to the back (east) end of the house to sun in the bay windows in the morning and then we swap in the afternoon. So around four this afternoon when I heard this fragile, heart churning meow that came from the feline above (actually captured a couple of weeks earlier on a previous visit). I tried not to look, but this cat was such an excellent sales person, I had to go out in the garden. There was the initial stalking pause as he seemed poised to run, after which I crouched down meekly, and it approached me with attention starved purrs. Though it looked in good health I could find no collar, and the fur was definitely not the pampered silky texture of Bunter's.

No, I concluded, I'm not going to get sucked in and went to the now balmy front sitting room, where I peered out the window to see creature at the bottom of this post. I decided to wait a couple of minutes and noticed at least half a dozen people pass by, most ignoring him, some giving the most casual of unconcerned glances.

An old made for TV movie from the 1970s with Ed Asner about people in Manhattan witnessing a murder but refusing to "get involved" raced through my head, and I recalled that I pledged all those eons ago that I'd never become that sort of jaded urban dweller.

There were sounds emitting from this creature as well, but not the type that made me want to hover over him with a bowl of milk and say, "Aren't you a pretty baby?"

As I walked down the steps and opened the gate, Maria, the octogenarian Latina next door was already hovering over him with her cordless phone, babbling at him in far better Spanish than I could muster, though he was slurring so much that our mastery of the language was about equal. She was using a call to the cops just as a threat, and in moment he stumbled along, albeit having done a good number on my Elysium.

Fortunately when I returned to the back sitting room, the feline self-promoter was gone. But there's always tomorrow, and I feat that cat's got my number.

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4 Comments:

At 9:25 AM, Blogger digibudi said...

I wonder who that cat was.. could it possibly be that it was a friend of your Bunter that he got to know in the cat hotel? And that they schemed out this whole plan about running away and going to a safe place where someone called Junk Thief lives? And whome is always good to cats.. even the scruffy ones? Or maybe I'm just guessing.. Cats don't really need a home, they need a bit of food and some water (milk on birthdays), and a dry blanket to sleep on.

 
At 9:32 AM, Blogger Junk Thief said...

Funny thing is that after posting this and looking at the photo (taken a couple of weeks ago) in the post closely, I see that there is a collar on the cat. A cat collar mysteriously appeared a couple of days ago and surely belongs to this cat. However, there is no tag or identification on the collar.

 
At 2:12 AM, Blogger Gavin Elster said...

That Ed Asner film would have been "DEATH SCREAM"
Broadcast in 1975. Released on video in the 80's as "STREETKILL"
This was made by the Robert Stigwood Orginization.

 
At 7:55 AM, Blogger Junk Thief said...

Thanks Gavin. Do you happen to remember who did the hair and lighting for that flick?

 

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