Chapter 12: A cat has to have their own pod

Autumn is on its way. There is a cold twang in the morning air.

Hundreds of Canadian Geese are flying in great swathes low over Tom Cat Towers making a rowdy noise as they honk and holler and the wind catches under their wings. The leaves are turning brown and the human has been outside harvesting her paltry crops of beans and courgettes.

The plastic toilet pod, which is on the patio with old jumpers in is a quiet retreat when I’ve had enough of pootling round the garden, or when it gets too cold to sit under the catnip bushes as the sun which has been warming my pelt goes behind a black cloud. Sometimes I go in there to get a bit of peace and quiet as I escape the constant attention of the ginger Nelly.

My human has noticed that when ever I am missing from the garden I will be curled up fast asleep in the plastic toilet pod on the patio.

Occasionally my tail is poking out as I forget to drag it in with me, so that’s a bit of a give away! Trouble is the ginger wusster thinks the pod is his territory too and totally ignores me when I am snoozling as he just busters his way inside and clambers all over me.

Then he turns round a couple of times, pushing me to the back of the pod before he then flops down and starts snoring. Any chance of peace just evaporates.

This morning the human had a good clean of the patio, tidying up salad pots and sweeping up all the bird seeds which have dripped from the containers on the bamboo bean poles. She peered into the pod and noticed the ginger slug fast asleep whilst I was squashed up uncomfortably at the back of the pod, wide awake and a little peeved.

In a flash of genius, which I am coming to expect from my human, she brought out an old battered plastic cat carrier from the garage. It has no front to it and the clips which secure the doors have long since gone. She stuffed it with an old sweatshirt and put it under the Leylandii trees. Then she moved the bigger plastic toilet pod, complete with the ginger waste of space who was still snoring away inside, from the patio and put it next to it. The Ginger snore-bag immediately woke up and dragged himself out of the big toilet pod to take up residence in the other, smaller carrier nest door.

So there it is. I have the big pod, he has the small pod. The human can see them both from inside the house and can see where we both are. They are called The West Wing Extension. Of Tom Cat Towers!

Willi’s version

When Dippi disappears I know where to find her - in Dumpty’s old toilet pod on the patio. Winter in on its way and it’s getting cooler.

As Dippi’s personal Health Care Assistant I know how vital it is to keep the little scrap of a cat warm and alive, so I will climb into the toilet pod with her to generously share my body warmth.

However, when the human cleaned up the patio and moved the pod, she placed a smaller carrier next to it. Being dominant tom, as is my right, I claimed it for myself.

This West Wing Extension is ideal as we can both look into the lounge from under the Leylandii trees and see when the human gets back from the place called ‘work’. We both then race into the kitchen for food having been starved for hours.

We can also watch the blackbirds and patio mice from the luxury and warmth of the pods. It’s also a great vantage point if I sit on the top of the pods.  I can see the human coming back from the place called 'work' so I am in a good position for getting into the kitchen and to the food first!

• < Prev
• Next >