Memories of Urban Cats - Part Two
… the continuing saga of Mini and her family
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The proud mother!
A couple of years after Mini had given birth, we moved into a house with a large yard running all the way round behind our ground floor flat. This was dominated by a variety of wild cats, and there were some really tough ones out there, and lots of trouble and fighting. We wondered how Batman would react to this, he was very mild and gentle, but was used to being allowed out. I was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, but it turned out that I didn’t need to worry!
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Our intrepid hero at an early age!
It was summertime, and the windows to the yard were normally open most of the time. For the first week or so, Batman just sat in the windows surveying the scene. No attempt to go out, just sitting apparently daydreaming but, we realized later, actually checking out the opposition. One evening, Batman decided that the time had come. He suddenly disappeared out of the window like a streak of lightning, instantly followed by the most amazing screaming and howling I have ever heard from cats fighting. A few minutes later, Batman hopped back in, and calmly took up his old position at the window and continued his vigil. It seems that he had used his time checking out who was “top dog” out there, and when the time came, went and sorted him out once and for all! We never saw the faintest sign of a strange cat in that yard ever again!
Poor old Batman was often getting into scrapes, always through absolutely no fault of his own. We still occasionally had problems with one of the wild cats in the beginning, he would wait until Batman wasn’t around, hop up into our window and mark out his territory This REALLY annoyed me. So one day I decided to teach the intruder a proper lesson. I thought that I had seen him out in the yard (he was also big and black), and when I saw a black shape hopping into our window, he got a whole bucketful of water right in the face. Unfortunately I wasn’t aware that Batman was out too, so it was he who received my little present. Poor fellow, he just COULDN’T understand what had happened and wandered around for a quite while in a daze. On another occasion we had a visit by a girl with a little baby. He was lying on the bed getting his nappy changed when Batman decided to check him out. At that very moment the baby let out a huge stream of diarrhoea which hit Batman right on the head. He stayed well away from babies from then on!
Another time I was woken early in the morning by one of our neighbors. “Your cat's out here on the stairs” she says. “Thank you very much” I say, and sleepily let the big black cat in. He wanders straight into the kitchen and begins to eat. I return to the bedroom, and who wanders out but Batman! I luckily managed to get the intruder out before Batman saw him, otherwise I’m sure the fur would have been flying! Some cats do have a lot of nerve.
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Let me out of here!
Later on again we moved to a new flat in the middle of winter. Josephine, being the cheeky irresponsible scatterbrain (although now a couple of years old), was always trying to get out, while Batman calmly accepted his new home. We did everything that we could to hinder it, but in some magic way, Josephine managed to escape. She disappeared into a snow storm, and in spite of all our efforts, we tragically never saw her again. Mini became sick shortly after this, getting infected by flea bites, and with heavy hearts we were forced to have her put down.
Mini has a certain “claim to fame” since she had a very special miaw. One of my friends was visiting and recorded her for posterity. Her plaintive miaw became the introduction to a Rock and Roll album. (Ten Years After - “Ssssh”). Years later Alvin (the lead guitarist) told me that he had often been asked how he had produced that extraordinary guitar sound, the one that made peoples cats go leaping up the walls!
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He just would not sit still!
After my divorce, I got the cat(!), and Batman was a wonderful companion through troubled times. Unfortunately he developed a kidney ailment and had to be put down when he was about 12 years old. I decided then that I would not have cats again, since nothing could compare with my darling Batman.
As is so often the case, time heals all wounds, and when Fister turned up in our backyard 20 years later and wormed his way into my soul, I lost my heart again.
… but that story is still being told!
john
