I don’t need an alarm clock anymore - I don’t get much sleep, not since HE moved in from next door. I never asked him, he just came. He’d been coming round of course, just being neighbourly I thought, then suddenly I realised he’d moved in.
I can’t say I wasn’t attracted to him, those soft gentle eyes, his quiet ways - not at all like the usual brash male. Yes, I think you could say it was love. I wondered what SHE was going to say when she realised he’d finally gone. I avoided her of course, if we happened to be hanging the washing out at the same, I’d spend an inordinate length of time sorting through my washing basket until she bent down to hers, then I’d quickly peg out a garment and bend down again as she stretched up to her line. A comical sight we must have made, dodging up and down in unison, desperate to avoid one another’s gaze. An uneasy silence had descended upon our adjoining homes. Living in a row of terrace houses everyone knew one another’s business, but nothing was said, or even alluded to. So life went on like this for quite a while, and HE had his feet well and truly under the table!
My children took to him well enough, but then he knew where he came in the pecking order and never tried to push himself forward. He lived a peaceful existence, never asking for more than a quiet life and a few crumbs of love. The biggest problem was having to share my bed again, I’d had it to myself for a long time, now I had to get used to sharing it again. But he began to take up more and more space, in fact I suddenly realised that he was getting rather portly - gone was the youthful figure, the slim hips had broadened - and the tum had become decidedly tubby.
I couldn’t understand it - he didn’t eat that much. Then one day, whilst chatting to my neighbour on the other side of me, THE SUBJECT came into our conversation, I asked the burning question - had she seen him slipping next door again? I’d never been entirely sure he’d left home. She gave me a knowing nod, she had seen him next door at meal times, and she too, had noticed his widening girth and suspected he had a foot in both camps.
By this time I had accepted him as mine, and now felt a sense of betrayal. He was also getting a wee bit cocky - he was taking up far too much of the bed nowadays, and he snored appallingly. I would try to sneak upstairs ahead of him, to snatch the largest share of the bed, and hopefully be asleep before he came up. But he’dtaken to pushing the door open with such force that it slammed against the furniture, waking me with a frightened start. And, unperturbed by my refusal to move over, would just lay on top of me! With his burgeoning weight, it was no joke.
My squirming around to dislodge him, brought forth strange sounds - mingled with his snores and grunts, made for many a sleepless night. Then I found that no matter how early I went to bed, he was always there before me, in fact I was beginning to think that he never got up!
All came to a head recently, when coming up to bed in the early hours, he arranged his great weight on top of me - I could barely breathe. No matter how hard I wriggled, I could not make him shift, with my face squashed into the pillow, I thought my end was near. With every bit of strength I could muster, I raised my face and yelled into the quiet of the night - knowing full well that in the still hush, the whole terrace would no doubt hear me-
GET OFF ME, YOU GREAT HAIRY CAT!!!!!!
Ps.Timmy really did seem to prefer living with us, he got on very well with my own cat, and we were both very sad when my neighbour moved away and took him with her, but I pop round to see her now and again (ok - I pop round to see Timmy....) At 16 years of age, he?s still taking life easy.