March 10th, 2008

toes!

in ur catflap, challenging ur gendr ssumptions

This morning I got up and staggered to the loo, noted cat, boggled as cat shot out of catflap and into the rain, staggered back to bed, and mumbled something about Teazel's tail being all fluffed up and that there would be a damp kitty in a minute as he'd gone out into the rain.

Third alarm, Tim gets up and moments later I hear a screech of outrage. From Tim, not cat. "Doomshadow!" he says, "In the catflap!"

Doomshadow is cat ten. There are ten cats (who appear to live) in the flat upstairs (the owner claims there are "about six"): Bertie, Bertie's brother, the tabby twins, midget, tiny tom, mr stupid head, cushion cat, cat nine and doomshadow. Doomshadow is large, black, fluffy and has the most malevolent stare I've ever seen on a cat. He is also one of the few cats I know with a tail as long as Teazel's. Long, but considerably more fluffy ...

Ah.

It's a magnetic catflap, so Doomsy must have shoulder-surfed (tailgated?) Teazel. Twice. Teazel's a bit of a ditz but didn't seem hurt or stressed (bone dry, absolutely unconcerned and full of purr) so maybe he let Doomsy in (it was a wretched morning, and upstairs, if cats are out, they're out). Maybe Doomshadow's not the bundle of evil I had assumed. Maybe he just *looks* like the vicious eyes of night floating in a galaxy of malevolent fluff.

Then Tim points out that he's a long-hair, so that fluffy head doesn't mean he's a tom, either.
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