Cats In May

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Seen Him on Television?

It was stupid to write about those cats, of course. All it did – like getting their names in the Sunday papers – was make them worse than ever.

In the old days when people stopped to talk to us over the cottage gate the cats usually disappeared immediately.

Particularly if they thought anybody wanted to talk about them.

Got a mouse to catch, Sheba would say, marching determinedly up the garden when people pleaded for a closer view of the dear little Blue Siamese. Going for a Walk, roared Solomon, beating it rapidly into the woods when somebody remarked what a big man he was and did he bite? Wasn’t coming back Ever, he would add when people committed the unforgivable insult and asked – as 11

Cats In May_Insides.indd 11

Cats In May_Insides.indd 11

15/03/2006 16:49:48

15/03/2006 16:49:48

Cats in May

they often did, because he was so big and dark and Sheba so small and silvery – whether he was her mother. Often after the visitors had gone I would go after him into the woods and there he’d be, sitting forlornly under a pine tree as only a Siamese can – wondering, he said sadly as I heaved him over my shoulder and carried him back to the cottage, whether to go and live with the foxes or join the Foreign Legion.

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