Sunday morning on Symi and it’s starting off a little hazy out at sea, but calm. It feels like it’s going to be a warm day, so I’d better get this ready for Monday morning and then head down to the harbour before it gets too hot. I have nothing particular planned today apart from visiting the bank machine, getting some writing done and maybe having a barbeque. But you want to know about the cat. In a moment. First, here’s a photo of the harbour this morning.
So, the Alarm Cat’s adventure… It started on Tuesday. He went out as he has been doing for a week or so now, out into the ‘hood I mean. He usually comes back the following day at some point, he’d been in a routine of going out at night and then returning in the morning the following day, so we were leaving the gate open for him as there’s no other way in or out of the courtyard. Actually, smaller and lighter animals can get in over the walls but that’s not something Jack has tried, as yet. Anyway, he went out Tuesday and didn’t come back on Wednesday. Not unduly worried, he’s a cat. Still no sign on Thursday and I’m starting to think, ‘Doesn’t the house look good when it’s fur-free?’ And didn’t come back on Friday…
So, we decided to look for him at the old house as we’d looked around this neighbourhood. I headed over to the other side of the Castro and to the old house on Friday afternoon, and heard him before I saw him. He was there, shouting at the door to be let in. Thing is, there’s no way to get into the old house (still empty) without the gate key, or without going over the wall. So, I reported back to Neil working at the bar, contacted Symi Animal Welfare, and we headed off to borrow a (large) cat box. Got that, headed to the house and I went in search of the neighbour, Michaelis. I found him on a roof around the corner, as you do, and he let us in through his house, through his back garden, and from there we could climb over the party wall onto our old roof.
By this time Jack had gone quiet and that was because he was asleep behind the water pump. He must have sensed me approaching as he woke up and started to slink away, looking over his shoulder, running on a bit, and then coming back. And then he smelled a rat (there was a dead one around the corner actually) and started to run. But Neil was there and made a grab for him. There then followed something of a scramble; fur flew, the air was blue with angry shouts and screeches, the claws were out, the fangs too, and the cat wasn’t much better behaved either. Neil managed to grab him, despite two bites, three scratches and a submission, and we got him into the box, poor thing. He wasn’t happy but he did get home, and he’s been here ever since. So, it’s back to 4.30 alarm calls by way of head sitting and loud purring, half sleepless nights and the sofas are covered in fur again.
Still, pretty amazing for a deaf cat to find its way back to its old house after three months.
