Bionic Charlie 17 December 2008
The cat we have called Floozy, is now famous in Argentina due to intercontinental cat-sex-appeal. See FlikR link below. Floozy is also popular with Mrs Monk but less popular with Mr Monk due to his pushy-ways of making an entrance without Ps and Qs and his delight-less habit of peeing in the Kitchen, and furthermore, suspected peeing under the Christmas tree. Whatever next.
The cat belongs to a young mother of reduced circumstances, across the road who resides in a one bedroom flat with a teenage son, and one other cat. We wondered how they coped with this limited accommodation but when they then acquired a new adorable Labrador puppy, neighbourhood gossip flourished.
Mrs Monk is not one to mind her own business, and she set about confronting the young mother with a few challenging questions about how Floozy is accommodated and how he gets in and out of the one bedroom flat when it is below freezing outside. We were told that she leaves the window open for Floozy, and we were not convinced, because he was spending the night alongside Cat Flap Charlie's food bowl, a warm and nourishing place to be.
Whenever the neighbour appeared outside our window, Mrs Monk leapt off the couch and into the street, with Frozzy under her arm, as if to appear by chance and to happen upon the neighbour. She would say pointedly, “Look what I found pissing in our Kitchen. Were you looking for him? Pardon my French, only joking”
Of course I did not hear Mrs Monk say these words but she is certainly capable of expressing such sentiment in a female code that most women would understand, and most men would disregard. Yes, we are equal, but different in this and other mysterious ways.
Mrs Monk got away with this twice or thrice, but then she took-on the mother's mother, who had, by other reliable accounts, been around the block a bit. Mrs Monk was therefore challenged with the outrageous accusation that she had been feeding the Frozzy beast, and that she was therefore guilty of stealing the Frozzy beast, as if he were something to be coveted.
We finally relented and replaced the Cat flap with a new laser-operated infra-red high tech, all- things-new, bionic, discriminating, bespoke, cat-flap, designed to provide cat-flap-Charlie with exclusive cat-flap-access to his very own bowl of cat chow. Mrs Monk paid £48 for this, and I was charged with the challenge of fitting it, which took two attempts and much effort.
Tonight Charlie, who is unaware of the credit crunch, was fitted with the new Infra red activating collar that miraculously releases the cat flap, for just a few moments, giving him exclusive access to the kitchen. Unfortunately, Charlie likes to take his time about making his entrance, and has yet to learn that once the infra red device kicks-in, he has just five seconds to make his move. Charlie is confused because Charlie is a cat and incapable of reading the instructions which are unhelpfully published in German and Japanese and English and French and Dutch, .... but not in... Cat.
We are hoping that Charlie will learn to move fast and get the hang of the manoeuvre through the cat flap, or we will have wasted 50, not entirely worthless, British quid Pounds, and much challenging effort.