Friendship: found and lost
November 12th 2010 10:56
LETTER TO CLYDE
Mate, I've never told anyone this, but I want a friend like Mile's friend Alice in the photo above.
I know they're called cats, but I didn't know that when I first came to live with the Bosses. I learned one day when a plumber visiting the house left the gate open and I ran through it like a firecracker with a vindaloo hangover.
Big Boss screamed and ran after me but I just sprinted down the road and around the corner. And that's when I saw it - a rabbit, only different.
Of course I picked up speed and went after it, and it took off when it saw me, and it disappeared into a driveway, but I was right on it and turned in behind, and found I had to stop in a hurry, because it had stopped too, and there it was, right in front of me.
Face to face.
It was a dead end, you see, a short driveway ending in a garage, door closed. Cornered. Nowhere to go.
I came to a halt a couple of toe-nail lengths from the cat. We eyeballed. I considered what to do. And then - and I am not making this up, Clyde - that cat inflated itself.
How do cats do that? It was amazing. That cat finished up three times its size.
I was still trying to work out what to do when the Big Boss arrived. He came squelching (okay, that's not an accurate word, but when humans run, for some reason, that's the word that comes to my mind) around the corner, took a quick look, and broke into a huge laugh, grabbing my collar at the same time.
Inflated cat; deflated Scratchy.
He's been telling the story to visitors ever since. "The time Scratchy caught the cat and didn't know what to do with it," he always starts.
It's through that story that I learned they are called cats. The thing is, I did know what I wanted to do with that cornered cat. I wanted to do what Miles is doing in the picture, and what you used to do with the cat you knew.
I wanted to be best friends.
Wags and stuff,
Scratchy
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If your cat needs any help, I'm available.
Yours,
Scratchy