Because I have owned the bigger of the cats for well over a decade now I am hip to his nefarious ways. Thus the moment I heard his strangled ‘burwop’ yesterday I reacted with cat-like reflexes of my own and slammed the office door shut. Moments later he appeared at the glass with a rather large rat dangling from his maw.
‘Go away!” I shrieked I said calmly.
And after a withering look he did, tossing the dead rat onto the patio and removing himself to the neighbours who I am sure he feels appreciate him more. I tried to ignore the corpse, but it kept laying there, so armed with a dust pan and brush I went out and deposited said rodent into the pink leaves bin and returned to my desk. TBOFC then returned from his wanderings, removed it again and left it outside the garage door when I almost trod on it when I went to feed the cats later.
The paramour and I looked down upon the dead rat.
‘Take a picture,’ I said. But alas it was too dark for the old iphone to capture raticuss deathicuss in all his glory.
We left it there and went to Ranelagh. This morning I went to release the cats only to discover the blasted rat has gone missing again.
‘This is most curious.’ I said to Puddy, who sniffed the spot. I know my lot didn’t take it. So I can only conclude his brethren came for their fallen comrade in the dead of night and took him away for a Christian Burial.
Oh Ratty, we hardly knew ye.