I have a tom cat now around 8 years and I called him Jeff after the Sky Sports Football Correspondent Jeff Stelling. I previously wrote about the black sheep of the family who has caused us the most trouble but events occurred last night that has me writing again.
His name is Jeff because at the time I quite liked calling animals human like names such as Trevor our last dog. Jeff came along before Trevor and we got him when he was around 3 months old. He is a big unit who is also a weirdy long shaped cat and pitch black, He settled in fairly seamlessly into the @blanchy household at the start. He is very friendly and likes to sit on my head whenever he gets the chance. He likes to get his face as close to my face as possible when I'm lying on the couch. It's all a bit weird. With his new found comfortable life of getting fed posh cat food pouches twice a day he decided we were up to his high standards and committed himself to settling down at @blanchy drive.
Trevor is a Rottweiler so Jeff got used to dealing with a big beast from day one constantly attacking his now scarred snout which meant any dog smaller than Trevor could be handled pretty easily. This caused Jeff not to run away from any other dog so he now just stand there and face the chasing dog. It completely puzzles the dog until the dog got a claw across his snout which usually causes uproar.
"This cat is meant to be running away from me. I demand you to comply cat. Woof"
Another trait of Jeff is to bask in the summers sun in the middle of the road. Any car that was passing by would have to stop , get out and lift him out of the way or roll over him. Jeff is not a cat for moving.
So as I was saying Jeff liked his new home and wanted to impress his owners so he started a murder campaign that would rival Pol Pot in Cambodia. Every day he would kill something and try to bring his gift into the house to show me. The Jack Daw was a nightmare because it was still alive when he jumped up on my couch with it while my wife was lying down on it. After she screamed Jeff left go of the crow and it proceeded to make for the window. It promptly hit the window at speed , knocked itself out and shat all over the window. Frightened shits are the hardest to clean because they are pure of shit.
Jeff finished the job with a quick neck break that Stephen Seagal would be proud of in Under Siege and I was left to clean up the mess. He arrived in with a dead rat a few weeks later which led to more screams. I was given the job as the dead animal remover but to start off with we had to lock down the house and make sure the cat could not bring us in his kills while we sat on the couch. We needed to put a stop to this as it is terrible in the summer having the windows closed.
A neighbour recommended a bell so his prey would hear Jeff coming but the kills increased instead of decreased. We asked a local vet around this and he said the bell was after making him more stealthier and he has effectively turned into some kind of ninja or a silent assassin in which he keeps his neck stiff so the bell doesn't ring. I have to say his movements before a kill were a joy to behold. It honed his skills even more so the bell had to come off.
It is not all bad however. We found some pesky starlings made a hole in the underside of our roof and were causing quite a racket in the attic. I tried and failed to catch these little shits. I gave them more than enough chances to vacant the premise but it seems they didn't understand simple English like the dog does. After some chicken wire and human meowing I had had enough. They began to shit on my attic stuff and an old Fender Squire and one night. THIS MEANS WAR. They were also doing so much rummaging around that I lost it. I opened the staircase to the attic at 3am and threw the cat up. Within a couple of minutes there were 7 death squawks. I left him up there for an hour. Job done. I was the clean up crew and managed to find 7 bodies all headless. (the heads are his delicacies.)
Jeff had made such a name for himself amongst the crows that hated him. Over the years he had taken our generations of crows. They divebomb him while he walked around his cat perimeter. It is a sight to see. The crows create a massive racket when he is in the area so you always know where the cat is. To find the cat you need to listen to where the crows are cawing. The crows have allocated 24/7 surveillance on the cat which can get annoying but it is impressive. I once told you that when I bring the dog off for his morning small walk and the cat comes with us. So I have the dog , the cat and a murder of crows every morning coming with us around the block. It really is a sight to behold and some of the neighbours find it hilarious. One of the auld ones calls me Doctor DooLittle. I look like Magnito from Xmen coming down the green with a posse of animals and birds swirling around me.
So last night I was changing the little lads nappy while looking out the window. I looked at a wall and there is Jeff with a crow in his mouth . For Fu...ck sakeeee. "Shit the patio doors are open " . I threw on the child's nappy and ran down stairs and just got there in time. I locked all the doors and windows and then shooed the cat away from the crow. I took the cat in. The crow was still just about alive. Crow surveillance was going mental. I was going mental. Myself and the crow crew were going mad with Jeff. The crows now had me clocked as implicit with the attempted murder (no pun intended). But the crow was still alive. It was a littlun. I gave cat over to my wife while I tried to catch the crow who was clearly in shock with a bloody neck. This is the worse case scenario. I prefer if the cat ended it instead of leaving it live. I am left with a half alive crow that cannot fly due to shock so what do I do with said crow.
The murder of crows were perched on poles and sheds watching my every move making so much of a racket that some of the neighbours started curtain twitching.
OK I'll bring him back to the crows nest which is across the road. Crows were following me going ape shit while I had their little one in a tea towel as it tried to wriggle itself out and peck my fingers. Calm down crow , I am trying to help. The crows nest was in the house of the lady who had threatened Jeff with poison once last year for bullying her dog. (Long story, don't want to do into it). So here I was trying to get injured crow back to the murder after an attempted murder. I'm the good guy crows. I'm the good guy.
The crows were not having any of it.
"He is your fucking cat" I heard they caw angerly.
So I got to the tree and left go of the tea towel.
OK excellent I thought , Job Done.
Injured crow jumped out of tea towel and ended up on the ground on the other side of tree.
FFS I thought to myself as I ran around and tried to put it back up on branch again. I tried a second time and the little fucker fell off the other side. At this stage poison woman was looking our ger window at me basically throwing half dead birds around her garden. I gave up. He was close enough to his family so they could take it from here. Poison woman would have to deal with his fate.
I read somewhere that there is no point putting a bird back in its nest anyway as the bird would reject their young who is handled by humans. I found out this when little younglings used to try and fly for the first time and I would pick them up and pop them back into my bird house. My mother chose not to tell me about the skeletons she found on an annual basis until last year.
Anyway it was an entertaining evening. I got up for work this morning and went out to feed the dog. Crows going ape shit at me over the night before. I walked to my car in the drive. Crows going mental at me again. Shate down the side of my lovely car.
I shook my head as I drove out of the driveway. They say crows never forget a face. I have now been put under 24/7 surveillance all because of the cat. Lookout crow is perched on the antenna on the roof, the perfect place to watch my movements. It will take me a while to acclimatize to my new life. But if things get any worse with the constant cawing while my little ones play in the green outside then shit is going to get real for the crows as I casually look up pellet guns on Amazon while I stroke my pussy. This is what you wanted you cunning animal. The gifts were to train me in. A dog knows you are a human. A cat thinks you are another cat, hence the half dead animals trying to train me in to become a killer. I am now well and truly trained as I hit the buy button on the pellet gun. Touche Jeff touche.
Sounds like you are living inside Hitchcock's The Birds these days.
and here I thought you were a man...
Probably hell for you but this sure was a fun read and one of the reasons why I'm not into cats.
I kinda love cats more now that they are more complicated to figure out and they think I am a cat. I find that funny.
Hahaha! Just don't bring any half dead animals into your house. Your wife probably won't like that.
Ever seen the movie Cat People?
That thing about cats thinking that humans are cats is interesting, now I'm beginning to understand a lot about the little feline who is no longer with me.
Oh and I hope those crows forget your face, because a rebellion of them against you would not be pleasant, I understand that you are thinking of acquiring that pellet gun, you must be prepared for the consequences of living with a small but adorable murderer.
Ah I'd never harm an animal.They can dive bomb me away for a while. I feed them bread in Winter so hopefully they will forgive me.
You're a good guy, it's a good thing you have Jeff to defend you in case of a massive crow attack. Or the best defence, plenty of breadcrumbs.
This is interesting to read, I don't really love cat too this why I don't love seeing them around
You will. grow to love them
Sure
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What an odyssey! I think I would not be able to withstand so much noise and pressure, it may seem fun to tell but you are in a nightmare and I understand that purchase at the end. And we all think it must be wonderful to live surrounded by a natural environment. What an entertaining story.