“Thoughts are the shadows of our felines - always darker, emptier and simpler

[faustus]

So today was the day - Marlowe and Tilda have officially been indoors for a month [well, may be not Marlowe], and it's time to start risking the big outdoors.

Toward teatime I got home and uncovered the cat flap, before taking two bags of used litter outside. I pause in the garden. Marlowe edges towards the threshold, and sniffs the world, jumps down. Is free. Behind her, Tilda, bigger but more nervous, and then there is a sprint outside. They pause on the lawn. They must have seen grass.

I dump the cat litter, and then figure I should be documenting this. The light is fading. I'm just too late.

I go to get the camera, and when I'm back - where are they? There's Marlowe, blending in with the bush, whilst Tilda investigates the fence and then behind the shed. She's gone from sight. Scary. I reach for Marlowe and pick her up, place her on the shed roof, just as Tilda appears. Marlowe leaps into the unknown.

I don't know about them - I've had enough. I get the cat food from the fridge, and put it down. Marlowe is there straight away - Tilda takes a little longer. They eat, I lock the back door. I go and watch Red Riding. I hear some scratching, and Tilda shits in the dining room. On a pile of newspapers. Thanks.

Marlowe sits at the back door, waiting for it to be gone again. Tomorrow. Before breakfast.


Pavlov's cats.

Comments

[drasecretcampus.livejournal.com]

I'm fairly sure that Marlowe has worked out how to use the cat flap - at least there was no sign of her at 3am when I got up for a pee. Or she went through the letter box again.

She's going to be a heart breaker... dirty stop out.

No sign of her right now, come to think of it.