You wont believe what happened the other week. So, you know my neighbour Jenny? Shes always had a bit of a wary relationship with the cat from next door. Shes never been a cat hater or anything, but this enormous, bossy tabby, who belongs to Mrs. Harper, once really got on her nerves.
Anyway, let me tell you the whole saga its one of those stories that just shows how important it is to be decent, no matter whats going on in your life.
This one summer, next doors tomcat, Percy, decided Jennys garden beds would make a perfect loo. Not once but several times she caught him, in her tiny veg patch, paws deep in the earth like some sort of stripy archaeologist. Shed yell and dash outside, but hed just stare at her, completely unfazed, before legging it off. Jennys allotment behind the cottage isnt massive she inherited the place from her nan, lovely sturdy little house, nestled just outside town. Literally, you walk a minute down the lane and youre right in proper countryside, fields and hedgerows everywhere. But five minutes by bus and youre back in the centre, grabbing a latte from the Pret.
Back when her nan was alive, Jenny used to love coming down here. Even after she passed, shed invite her mates for weekends theyd get the fire going, grill sausages, pick blackberries, the lot. The woods nearby are teeming with mushrooms in autumn if you know where to look. Silence, fresh air, wide open spaces honestly, ideal for clearing your head. Her cousin Alice lives just a few cottages over they grew up more like sisters so someones always about for a cuppa or a natter by the river, never a dull weekend.
Jenny kept her planting modest a few rows of rocket, spring onions, radishes, that kind of thing. Its small, but shes proud of it. And it was this patch that Percy seemed hell-bent on flattening. Jenny went round to have a word with Mrs. Harper, but all she got was an eye roll and, And what am I meant to do? Stand guard all day? Chuck a pebble at him if hes such a bother!
To be honest, I think Mrs. Harper never took to cats. Percy had belonged to her late husband, Graham. Shes always said, quite loudly, I cant stand cats! Give me a dog any day! But when Graham passed, the cat stayed. Neither of them had much of a choice, really.
If Im honest, Percy was a proper character. The sort that hunts mice for fun, and rumour has it, even nicked the odd fish out of the stream when Graham used to take him fishing. All he really needed was a dry corner and somewhere warm to curl up if the weather turned.
Jenny tried everything to get him to leave her veg alone. Shed talk to him, offer bits of tuna, even tried to bribe him with treats, but Percy wasnt having any of it. Shed call out hed just fix her with this withering stare, like Please, as if, and keep a safe distance.
One time, she squirted him with the hose, sent him sprinting for the back fence. On another occasion, she took a whistle down to her carrot patch; the moment Percy crept in, she gave it an almighty blow and ran after him like some deranged referee. She nearly passed out laughing afterwards he leapt the fence, paused just long enough to shoot her a look of pure betrayal, tail bolt upright, then vanished into the brambles.
Mrs. Harper would just cackle whenever she saw these little battles. Not her problem anymore. Especially since, finally living her dream, her daughter brought round a tiny toy terrier called Pickle to stay with her. Mrs. Harper was thrilled to bits to have a dog to fuss over, so she couldnt care less if Percy was causing chaos outside. Jenny found a fix, though: she brought in a few bags of wood shavings and poured them in a wild corner of the garden. Percy took the hint and started digging there instead. Jenny practically said a quiet thank you to the universe.
But she soon realised, Percy was always nearby. Somehow, hed be watching her from behind the roses, perched on next doors shed roof, even through the little knot holes in the fence. Late one evening she stepped outside and nearly jumped out of her skin when these two glowing eyes stared up at her from under the garden bench. Shes never quite sure where hell pop up next always kept things interesting.
Jenny spent most of that year at her nans, but once term started up again (shes at uni in the city), shed only head down for weekends or the odd midweek break.
One crisp November morning, she got up, tugged her boots on, and poked her head out the back door only to find this snowy, furry mound on the doorstep. It was Percy. He was huddled up in a ball, covered with a thick dusting of snow, even with little icicles hanging off his whiskers. When Jenny brushed the snow from his back, he didnt even twitch. She picked him up and realised he could barely open his mouth, let alone meow.
Straight away, she bundled him inside, wrapped him in her favourite tartan blanket, and used a warm towel to melt the ice off his whiskers. The poor thing was absolutely listless, didnt even have the energy to complain. After settling him near the radiator with a couple of warm water bottles, she dashed round to Mrs. Harpers.
And honestly, you wont believe what Mrs. Harper said: He lives in the shed now. Hes a filthy thing, peed all over, so hes not coming in this house again, not after what he did since Pickle arrived! Turns out, since Mrs. Harper got her new dog, Percy had been turfing poor Pickle out and marking his territory, so shed kicked him out to the shed.
Hed scraped through the summer but now, with winter setting in, he didnt have a chance in that rickety, freezing shed. Jenny pleaded with Mrs. Harper to let him back in, but got nowhere: I bunged some dry food in a bowl; hell be fine. If not, well, kick him out. Hes not my problem!
As Jenny trailed back to her cottage, she realised Percy had come to her as a last hope. Hed given up on Mrs. Harper, so the only person he could think of was the one whod chased him round the carrot patch all summer.
Jenny called everyone she knew surely, someone wanted a cat? No one bit. Alice said he could maybe have the shed out back with the goats, but couldnt take him inside (they already had their own two cats).
Meanwhile, Percy thawed out, stepped gingerly out of his blanket, rubbed against Jennys ankle, and then fixed her with this long, steady stare like he knew she was deciding his fate. Jenny called her mum whos always been a strict no pets person and, for once, she thawed. She remembered how kind old Graham had been, always giving away fresh fish, and how Percy used to trot along after him like a spaniel. Tears sprang to her eyes when she thought about him ending up on the streets.
That settled it.
Jenny nipped down to the Co-op, bought a plastic carrier with handles, popped Percy inside, and took him home to her flat in the city. That cats starting a new life now, warm and safe.
