There was a cat stand off of epic proportions today. Yeah, Leamington might be having sonic booms but in York this is what's happening.
I have acquired cat friends since moving here. There's Johnson, a totally derpy massive black and white fluffmonster with cross eyes and markings on his face that make him look like a retarded kitler. There's sinister ginger and white cat - the matriarch of the backyard I fear. She stares a lot. And then there's a little ginger one that keeps running inside my house like he owns it every time I come home.
In the absence of human friends they're keeping me going.
Fatman begs to differ. Vociferously.
He and Johnson (my friend and I thought he was called Johnson because his name tag says Johnson. Her husband pointed out that Johnson is clearly his owner's family name. Whatevs.) had a staring match through the lounge window.
Fatty really needs to learn that other cats exist in this world. And that it's unlikely that it will be just he and I until one of us dies and eats the other. I mean, one day I'm totally getting another cat. Probably another ten cats. And a dog or two. At some point he's going to have to deal with this.
Johnson derped happily through the window, occasionally raising a gigantic paw as if to tenderly touch Fatman's face. Fatman hissed, spat and did that growly thing that makes him sound possessed. After a few minutes of this I closed the blinds to block derpster out and took him out some biscuits. Fatman commenced growling for the next million hours.
A while later I went outside only to be met with the impassive gaze of Johnson and his army of followers. Three cats sat at different vantage points on the walls of my yard. Staring. Just staring. It was like the Midwich Cuckoos. With cats. Infinitely better than children any day.
I'll be moving on to human friends any day now. Any day.