A CAT CALLED MERLOT

Thursday 26th November 2020 

It’s been quite a week. When Marjorie was abducted by strangers and whiskered off to the cattery, I decided there was nothing for it but to go and visit her. I had a vague idea of where the place was, as I’d been incarcerated there myself, until I was pretty much expelled for endless howling. Whilst I had a dread of the place, Marjorie was my priority and so I set off after breakfast on Saturday. After what seemed like an endless journey, that had me crossing a couple of very busy roads and a river, I thought I recognised the house and the outbuildings, in the distance. Tired, I pushed on and to my relief found the row of pens, in the garden. 

The place looked quite deserted and for a moment, a feeling of desperation welled up inside me as I assumed I’d got it all wrong. Then, I saw a movement in the pen nearest the house. Heart racing, I ran down the path and spotted Marjorie, huddled at the top of the sleeping platform, looking miserably out at the fish pond. She seemed very pleased to see me. Whilst I couldn’t get into the pen, I made myself comfortable on the damp patch of grass outside and we talked and talked through the little squares in the iron fencing, until we both fell asleep. I didn’t hear the man approach until he was standing next to me, hands on hips, looking down. He asked me, quite gently what I was doing there but recognising him as one of the guards, I scampered off with all the energy I could muster and hid under a bush until he’d gone. 

By the time I got home, it was dark. Since it had been raining hard, my coat was soaking wet. Queenie, with a puzzled look on her face, patted me dry with a towel, inquisitive as to where I’d been all day. Once she’d fed me, she lit the log burner. The next thing I knew, it was morning and quite revived, I set off once again, determined to keep Marjorie’s spirits up. 

The day was warmer and the sky clear. My judgement on traffic wasn’t quite as good as the previous day as the road was busier and I had to make a run for it between cars. There was the sound of screeching brakes as a vehicle swerved and missed me by a whisker. Feeling a little weak, the nine lives I was born with moved down another one, to five. 

With all the rain during the night, the river level had risen and the branch I’d used to cross the day before, was half submerged. Staring into the black, fast-moving water, I judged that if I could just get to the bit where the branch had got swallowed up, with a good jump, I could reach the bank on the other side. I inched along trying to keep my balance as the branch bobbed up and down disturbingly under my weight. Above me a bird shook its head and put its wing over its eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified in my life as I had no idea whether cats could swim but I reassured myself it couldn’t be that difficult if dogs could do it. When I reached the end of the branch, the river bank on the other side seemed a lot further away but it was too late to go back and I had to get to Marjorie. Taking a deep breath I jumped. As I left the branch, I realised I would be short of the bank by a good cat-length and I hit the freezing water. Thrashing around in panic below the surface, I re-emerged for just enough time to take a breath and went under again, positive I was about to die. The third time I surfaced, I somehow managed to hook one paw round the limb of a willow as I sailed past and clung to it against the current, until I could breathe. Bit by bit, I pulled myself up and finally hauled my body onto the slippery bank, where I collapsed and coughed up lots of river water. Four lives, I thought as I finally got my breath back and decided this being ‘in love’ thing was really quite an ordeal.