Yesterday's weather: mild, sunny spells. About 17 degrees.
Cats can be very frustrating. Last night Figaro was in nice and early and we refused to let him out again which he was less than happy about. The other two refused point blank to come in and couldn't be seen or heard anywhere. Usually one of us (actually, Jon) will go and find her and bring her in, she's never far away, but last night he had to give in and we went to bed with Figaro as a hot water bottle.
At 1.15am there was the most almighty screech from outside. Figaro was on the window ledge looking out before I could open my eyes and I leapt out of bed ready to go and rescue whichever of our babies was being brutally murdered (as from the noise I could tell that this was, indeed, the case). I limped to the top of the stairs, at which point Jon beat me to it and went down to see who he could find.
No-one. They still refused to come anywhere near so he bravely went for a walk in his dressing gown to try and find out what was going on.
Figaro settled down to sleep on the window ledge just waiting for us to switch the light off so that he could sneak back on to the bed when he thought we wouldn't notice. I waited. Eventually there was a knock at the front door (which was locked), I opened it and Jon unceremoniously deposited a wriggling Misty into the lounge. She went immediately downstairs for a snack. Well, you know, it was at least 5 hours since she last ate and she is fading away (not).
There was still no sign of Jazz who we assume was the screeching one (she can be very vocal when required) so we gave up and went back to bed, having first put Misty and Figaro in the kitchen for the rest of the night. Figaro was initially unimpressed with this arrangement but I gave him some Whiskas kitten food and he agreed to stay put.
This morning it is pouring with rain. A very wet Jazz was waiting patiently outside the door to be let in and the other two refused to go out. Figaro in fact did leave the house but came back in like a shot and went straight to his litter tray. He then tried to dry Jazz off by licking her and, just to show that he still feels the same way about her, he jumped on her back when she was looking the other way.
Jazz doesn't seem to be injured, I think that screeching is her way of seeing off any unwanted intruders, but I expect she could put up a good fight if required.
Who needs a guard dog?
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