A big day for a little boy

Elgar went outside for the first time in four or five months on Saturday. The result was… interesting. Bear in mind he’s been sitting on windowsills for the last couple of weeks with a rather plaintive expression, so I wasn’t expecting his reaction to going outside to be – turn tail and run back in the flat again. Things got a little better and he sniffed out the garden and discovered very quickly the gaps in the fence (and how to climb over the fence) to get into the gardens next door but we had a whole other experience on Sunday.

I was just sitting in the kitchen, minding my own business, enjoying some French toast. Then there’s this "MYOWL" and Elgar pelts into the kitchen, tail puffed out to full size.

"There’s another cat in the garden, right?"
"Mrrrow!"

So I went out to face this monster, and it’s a little tortoiseshell moggie, half the size of Elgar, looking very surprised halfway down the garden. I went back into the kitchen.

"You’re pathetic, you know that."
"Rrow."

[Incidentally, if that tortie moggie is the cat who’s been using my lawn as a lavatory, if I catch her in the garden again I’ll make damn certain she never comes back…]

I had take his collar off this morning cos he’s been scratching at it, trying to get it off, and made a bald patch on his neck. So now he’s got no reflective collar and no nametag. Please don’t get run over, cat, OK?

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