Jun 09, 2006 21:53
Last night, well past the witching hour, I was
roused by unearthly sounds outside the window.
A couple of minutes later, I tiptoed to the balcony and
peered into the darkness.
No, it wasn't little green men trying to park their spaceship.
It was a large, white-and-orange tomcat who had probably
found the setting perfect for exercising his vocal talents.
After ascertaining that he was neither hungry nor injured, I
politely requested him to desist, explaining that though I
am a music lover, my taste does not run to feline serenades.
To avoid wasting time, I conveyed all this through the
monosyllable "Shoo".
He paused for a moment, then (probably because he
knows that it is best to ignore philistines) continued yowling.
At this point, Baba suggested dumping a jug of water on
him.
I didn't have the heart to do that, so I dumped the water
a few feet away from him. Despite being creatively occupied,
he was rather quick on the uptake, because he instantly
disappeared into the darkness.
I believe that cats should not dabble
in music, unless they limit their repertoire to purring
and miaowing.
cat,
love