Thomas a Basket
Just updating cat lover readers on the cat we don’t own, want or know the lineage of, Thomas a Basket. I call him that because he found his safe place in our laundry basket one day and had been returning to it every night. Unfortunately, he came with a cold, or some such bug and sneezed a lot of gunk over everything. He also dribbles and once or twice has done that on the clean laundry when it’s been hanging inside to dry. We keep this lean-to open, though it has a door, because the wires for the router hang through it and, like the rest of the house, it’s not much warmer with the door shut. This means Thomas has unlimited access to the laundry but not the study which leads off it. We keep that door closed.
He is usually there each morning, either in the basket or somewhere else to his liking but goes out during the day to do whatever tom cats do – and we all know what that means. He’s probably sprayed over everything, so if you meet in the street and my clothes smell ‘Tommy’, or call at the house and inspect the lean-to, that’ll be the excuse.
While Thomas is revelling snottily in his B&B (Bed & Basket, we don’t feed him), his colleagues up the road are scratching around for a dry, warm place for the night that’s not too far away from their dining room, the bins. Symi Animal Welfare has provided us and others with a big bag of biscuits which we dole out to the needy every couple of days. We also keep any scraps that would be of use, like bones and such, and leave them for the strays. Otherwise, our house is cat free, and that’s the way we like it. Of course, as soon as Thomas a B starts bringing his bit on the side or family to stay, we might have to think again about our hospitality. I’ve told him this, and I think he understands. He watches me warily when I pass, ready to scarper if I show any signs of disapproval, but as long as doesn’t drip anything nasty on the clean laundry again, he can stay, either in the basket where I have donated an old throw, or on a pillow that was destined for the bin. Any other misdemeanours and I’d have to consider de-cat-itating him; get it? (I know, wrong Thomas, but you get my… Oh, never mind.)