A Night on the Tiles.....

What a night! As we were hoping, "the one I don't trust" cleared off yesterday evening. Not sure where he went, but I think he met up with some of his pals, or lowlife as I prefer to call them. Anyway, no sooner was he out the door, than my plan for a cultural evening at home with a select few of the local cats swung into action like a well oiled machine. Word was put out on the bush telegraph (I stuck my head out of the flap and mewed loudly), and the guests started to arrive. My poncy brother and my stupid sister were first. I didn't really want to ask them, but as I let them live here with me, I felt obliged to. They were closely followed by wise Old Black Tom. He is a very clever cat, and knows everything. "Where are Mad Harry and Slasher Sid" I asked. "No idea" he replied.

Not to worry, they soon turned up. A strange aroma preceded them - they had bought a tasty pair of half eaten kippers with them, carefully selected from a neighbours bin. How thoughtful. "You might need some of these" said Harry. "Most kind" I replied, "we are fresh out." They put them on the settee for safe keeping. Next, we heard a jingling bell sound, and Quasimodo shot through the flap looking nervously over his shoulder. Now, for new readers, you need to be aware that he has been driven insane by a little bell on his collar! "I'm being chased by an ice cream van" he cried as he dived for cover under the table, knocking over a pot plant in the process. At that very moment, there was a ring on the doorbell, and Quasimodo took the very wise precaution of climbing up the curtains, which duly fell down, along with the curtain rail. "Who was that at the door" I asked. "No idea" said Old Black Tom.What a terrible example of shoddy workmanship I thought. Not surprising though, I remember "the one I don't trust" putting the the curtain rail up just after we moved here. It was a real bodge job - he drilled the holes too big, and when he thought "the pretty one" wasn't looking, he bunged them up with bits of newspaper. He then employed a rarely used advanced technique to insert the screws - a two pound club-hammer! There's an awful lot more I can tell you about his DIY efforts, but that can wait until another day.

Anyway, we digress. Things were in full swing and we had started the party games. Our favourite is a slight variation of pin the tail on the donkey - we call it pin the collar on Quasimodo. It was great fun once we managed to catch him - Oh how we all laughed, well most of us. The game was brought to an abrupt halt by a loud crash from the kitchen. Harry had been taking a drink from the sink, when the large pile of dirty plates, dishes etc, that have accumulated over the last few days collapsed on to the floor. This came as quite a shock to Sid, who at the same time was turning out the contents of the garbage bin on to the very same floor. "Makes it easier to sort through" he advised later. Well, you can imagine the mess.Disaster! I heard a key turn in the front door. "The one I don't trust" had come home early - you really can't rely on him. He was not impressed with the sight that greeted him - smelly kippers on the settee, curtains and plaster all over the floor, the kitchen covered in garbage and broken crockery. You should have seen the scramble for the cat flap. I wouldn't have thought it possible that so many cats could get out of such a small hole in so little time. We reassembled on the back wall. The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry - who was it who said that? "Robert Burns" said Old Black Tom. "No, it couldn't have been him" I replied, "he wasn't invited. It must have been me!" Perhaps Old Black Tom is not so clever after all.

Oh well, that's my lot for today. When I crept back indoors a little later, I think he had forgiven us, because I heard him mutter under his breath "wait till I get hold of those three." I expect he is missing us and just wants to give us a cuddle - so that's nice isn't it! What a life! AlbertThe(party animal)Cat.