I live in the quiet beach area of a city. My unit building is surrounded by other unit buildings, and since my move here three weeks ago the place has been silent and pleasant. I say all this to prefix how strange I felt waking up this morning.
I woke up this morning at about 7.30am to the sound of a dog barking next door. My first thought – “I can’t believe owners would have a dog in such a small space that barks, poor dog, and how inconsiderate towards their neighbors.” Then – “people wouldn’t do that, I haven’t heard it on the other mornings, it’s probably only visiting.”
The barking soon turned into howling/moaning. Quiet at first and then louder and louder. It was the conclusion to a Shakespeare play out there. “What a poor doggy. It must be sad that it’s being left alone when the owners are off to work. Maybe I should try talking to it through the fence.” And that’s precisely what I went to go do.
I hopped out of bed, went to my office room and peered through the sliding glass door windows. To my surprise, across the private courtyard (where I hang my washing) and through the adjoining fence was a little kitty cat. I’m still not sure if it was crouching or if it was one of those Muppet cats. In any case, the noises stopped and we just stared at each other.
That’s when a big black cat jumped right down in-front of me.
Thankfully the glass sliding door was separating us. The cat immediately started rubbing it’s scent all over the door, and even tried to get through the window which was mercifully mostly closed.
You must understand that at this point I thought it was a cute kitty cat, being all cuddly and rubbing itself against the glass, just wanting to come inside where it was warm and have some company. So I spoke to it for awhile through the glass. Tried to ascertain whether it was friend or foe.
Finally, the cat changed tactics and rolled over exposing it’s soft furry belly. It looks up at me with big adorable eyes half covered by it’s paws. It was Puss’n Boots level manipulation. “Wow, clever cat, it must have noticed that humans find that position irresistible. It’s expecting me to come outside now and give it a belly rub.” And that’s precisely what I went to go do.
I quickly opened the sliding door and closed it behind me as I stepped outside. The cat had made no advances to try get inside which I thought was a good thing. It must be friendly. Wrong.
It started circling me.
Like, just walking around in circles around me, rubbing my leg and the door as it walked past on each cycle.
It circled fast, and then faster and faster.
It’s back was arched.
“This is a bit weird. Something’s not quite right here. What’s up with this cat?”
“I think I’ll go back inside now”
So I took a small step forward.
That’s when the cat lunged forward and sunk it’s teeth into the back of my leg.
I jumped. It got a freight and skitzed halfway across the courtyard. I ran back inside and shut the slider behind me.
I inspected my wounds. (What wounds, you were wearing jeans and it didn’t pierce your skin at all – shhhhh, it’s for the drama)
But seriously guys, I feel terrorized. I pay extra to enjoy the use of that little courtyard. It’s incredibly useful to have your own space to hang out washing.
And now I can’t use it.
I can still hear loud howling outside. Now it sounds more like a victory war meow to me.
Any cat experts who know how I can reclaim my lost lands?
Hopefully it will just go away on it’s own and never return. Will I ever be able to leave my windows open at night again? How am I supposed to leave the house?