Here’s your starter for 10. What is the point of cats?
Regular readers may recall a few years ago we adopted two homeless kittens on the recommendation of a man from Rentokil after a load of mice squatted in our house.
“Get a cat,” he said. “You’ll never have another mouse,” he said.
“In fact get two,” he said. “That way they’ll always have company.”
And that’s how two black and white tom cats came to rule the roost in the house we pay for but is now essentially theirs.
But at around 10.30pm on Monday there was a strange yeowling noise at our front door.
It sounded like the howl the fatter of our two cats, Marleyboo, made when another cat beat him up a few weeks ago and I had to take him to the vet.
Just as an aside, whenever I see our vet in the street I always cross over to the other side of the road in case he charges me £30 just to say hello.
Anyway, judging by the speed Marleyboo’s brother Mr Robbie ran through the front door he wasn’t injured.
But hang on, what’s that in his mouth?
It’s a mouse!
And it’s still alive!
Those of us who grew up watching Tom & Jerry cartoons will remember a character called Mammy Two Shoes who hated mice more than Tom.
Whenever Jerry, the evil little s***, showed his face in her presence she hopped from foot to foot screeching her head off in horror.
My wife and our two daughters all did world-class impressions of Mrs Two Shoes, leaving me to hunt down mousey.
Mr Robbie, spooked by the mayhem he’d caused, did what all cats do at the merest hint of trouble and scarpered.
Just before mousey met his maker at the end of a broom handle, the boss and daughters #1 and #2 hid in their rooms while I ran around in hysterics looking for it.
The thing is, there was quite a clean-up operation afterwards.
It was like when Vincent accidentally blew Marvin’s head off in Pulp Fiction when Jules hit a bump in the road.
And at that time of night, Winston Wolf will not come out to give lessons on how to scrape mouse blood, guts and brains off the wall.
Barry Freeman is away