Originally published by The Clifton Courier, March 3, 2022

I think the cat next door has it in for me. 

Straight off the bat I need to make a declaration: I’m not a cat person. I mean, I like that they’ve got this witchy vibe about them and I also appreciate that most cats seem to have other things going on in their lives so they’re not particularly clingy pets who need your attention all the time. 

But as much as I loved Aristocats as a little girl, I’m just not into cats. 

I recently stayed with some friends who had two cats, which turned me off opting into the world of felines forever. There’s the kitty litter issue. The stench of their food. And, just to really drive the message home, I witnessed one of them vomiting up a hairball on the kitchen floor.

Can you imagine coming home from a real stinker of a day at work, finally taking off your shoes for the day and walking into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea only to trod on a slimy mound of cat hair?! Not only is that extremely gross, but it’s also a major hazard. You could slip and hit your head and, look, I’m not saying cats are terrible people, but they certainly wouldn’t call the ambulance for you, you know? 

I just don’t want to deal with any of that and I certainly don’t want to deal with that within the confines of my home.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not polite to cats when I encounter them. And I’m always polite to the cat next door. 

I’m fairly certain one of my neighbours took in the cat belonging to the fellow who lived here before me after he relocated to New Zealand. I’m assuming said cat is the one I keep encountering because of the way it keeps looking expectedly into my front door.

So I’m extra considerate towards this cat.

I mean, that’s pretty rough. You live with someone and build a life together and then, one day, they just up and leave the country without you. Sure, it sounds like the responsible thing to do on old mate’s part, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t sting. 

So when the cat first tentatively approached me as I sat on the doorstep tying my sneakers before a walk, I was gentle. It kept looking past me and into the house. Maybe I’m projecting, but I’m pretty sure it was looking for old mate.

And it broke my heart a little – I may not be a cat person, but I’m also not made of stone! I said words to the effect of “Aw geez, he’s not here anymore mate”, and outstretched my hand to offer it the option of having a pat while not invading its personal space. But the cat just left. 

This kept happening until, one evening, I let the cat in to have a look around. It went into every room. It even looked in the wardrobes. It seemed to understand. 

After that, the cat has allowed me to pat it a few times. Sometimes, it rubs up on my ankles as I’m hearing out down the driveway. I mean, we wouldn’t go out of our way to see each other, but when we did, we were friendly to each other. 

I thought this meant the car was warming to me. 

But now I’m not so sure. 

When I noticed mulch around my newly-planted lavender bushes was displaced in cat-sized patches, I just assumed the cat just liked to sleep in my front garden to feel close to his former owner. 

When I heard the cat clawing at my doormat, I thought it was just because the mat really does lend itself to sharpening claws and I didn’t mind so much because it’s not really damaging the mat. 

But then, the other morning, I noticed a cat poo sitting right in front of my front door.

And I’m finding it very hard to shake the feeling that it was… deposited there on purpose as a message directed at me. But that’s just my imagination running away with me, right?