No the title of this is not a reference to some new, amusingly named (and therefore awful to drink) wine. Read on to know more.
Where I live there are a lot of cats and it’s very middle class – just up the road there’s some huge gaffs – some gorgeous and some footballer-style “monster cottages”*. Indeed so many cats an alien landing in the pub car park and surveying the scene and peering around would conclude no significant social change since his colleague K’ryll’s last visit in 1912 but a species change. It’s still “Upstairs Downstairs” but the cat’s are masters now – fed, watered, private medical insurance and have the run of the place…
Anyway last night there was something of a fracas upstairs. I would go as far as to call it a hullabaloo. I thought Eric Joyce MP had scaled the ramparts after a few wee drams. My wife goes to investigate and finds our cat, Timmy cowering under the bed after having repulsed a sally by another mogster that had on it’s way in or out the window pissed on the curtains. Timmy was not happy at territory marking in his inner sanctum. Not happy at all. I can’t say me or the missus were exactly ticketty-boo at this outrageous invasion – I mean it’s feline neo-colonialism that is. Anyway, Curtains go in the wash and after the Dame Judith subsides somewhat me and the missus go to bed.
At 4am (isn’t that when special forces tend to strike?) there is a tremendous commotion and quite frankly sounds to curdle the blood and chill the spine. The invader is back! Timmy holds his own guarding the window (we left it partially open to allow the pisstulent miasma out) Just below on the shed roof there is an enormous tabby with the look of a hint of wild cat – very similar looking to the cats you get in Turkey actually.
Other all that than that I slept soundly.
*Yeah and they get to build them on the edge of a national park and technically i’m breaking the law by having a Sky dish. Sheesh! For the record I don’t know of any actual Manchester United or City players who live in this neck of the woods but I wouldn’t rule it out. Certainly no Stockport County players – they all share an ISO crate under the viaduct. I mean for what City pay that work-shy Argie fop Tevez in a week (I can’t believe they’re taking him back – I thought more of Roberto Mancini**) you could buy the entire County squad for what Tevez makes in a week – allegedly GBP 250,000. How do you spend that without a serious Faberge Egg habit?
**At least I thought Tevez after he’d buggered off for an extended stay in Buenos Aires to play golf would find the head of his daughter’s pony grinning at him on the pillow one sunny morn. I mean some guy called Roberto Mancini must know people who know people who “do things”. I could go on but that is another post…