A CAT CALLED MERLOT

Thursday 29th July 2021

It’s been the most distressing week. Marjorie’s inquisitive nature got her into trouble again and as I write, I’m not sure it will end well. I blame myself, as I completely forgot to warn her about the rough gardeners. Just after lunch yesterday, they were working in the front of the Doctors’ Surgery, cutting back some overgrown shrubs and laughing and swearing as usual. When Alfred passed with his shopping and shook his head with disapproval, they laughed scornfully, shouting very disrespectfully after him, “What’s up old-fella? Aren’t you liking the banter?”

As it was hot and I needed a drink of water, I went home and was only gone for a couple of minutes. When I returned, I spotted one of the men crouched down, talking to Marjorie in a low voice and stroking her along her back with his rough hand as if she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. She must have turned up while I was indoors, and witnessing this, I sensed danger. The fur on the back of my neck stood up as I realised the risk she was taking in being anywhere near him. Instantly, I went to cross the road to warn her but a car was coming and I had to wait. In those few seconds, I saw the man look furtively around and when he thought nobody was watching, he grabbed her by the scruff of her poor neck, dropping her, protesting, into a wire cage under a tarpaulin in the back of their truck. Horrified, I flew over to try and get into the back of the vehicle but another of the men struck me, roughly, with his boot mumbling, “We don’t need that one, it’s not pedigree. The other one will fetch a good amount though and I reckon I’ve got just the customer. They’re looking for one to breed from and we can get rid of it quickly. Come on let’s go and get the cat offloaded before someone hears it!” With that, he threw his spade into the back of the truck and the other two followed. I could hear Marjorie crying out in the back but I just couldn’t get to her as the sides were too high. Beside myself with horror, I ran to the end of the road and watched as the truck, music blaring out of the window, turn left at the end of The Avenue and disappear in a haze of blue, exhaust smoke. Winded from the man’s boot, I made my way back down the road, my head spinning and very frightened for Marjorie.