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Does anyone out there understand females? If you do, could you please get in touch? Because I’m confused.

Avid readers of my Buzz will recall that my girlfriend, the pretty tortoiseshell from a neighbouring close, dumped me in spring; that I eventually got over it by thinking deeply about the nature of love and came to the conclusion that I didn’t have enough time in my life for the kind of love she had in mind; and that I decided I was better off without the complications of courting, anyway.

Well! Tickle my whiskers, but she returned last month. Naturally, my behaviour towards her was cool. What did she expect? For me to pounce on her as though we were still best friends? – Apparently so, because she acted as though nothing had happened, and when I turned to go home – a crystal clear statement that we were finished – she came after me and jumped through my cat flap into our house! She strolled all around the kitchen, bold as rats, checked out my bowls and Tammy’s, sniffed at everything and seemed well pleased with herself. I was quite meowless for a minute and could only sit and stare in disbelief. Fortunately, Mum came in and the intruder turned tail and fled.

But the following day she was back, and I just didn’t know what to do! It was Tammy, old and deaf though she is, who hissed and spat at the cat flap crasher. I was proud of her. Only the tortoiseshell didn’t care one bit. She even ate some of Tammy’s food and would have gobbled it all up, had one of our humans not come in and chased her away again.

From then on, she came in every single day, especially whenever Mum and Dad were out. She ventured as far as the sitting room and freely helped herself to our food and drink. I was completely powerless to stop her. I mean – whatcan you do in the face of so much cheek? Such lack of basic manners? I felt harassed; victimised.

So I told Mum and Dad. They had a discussion, after which Dad brought out the tools and removed our cat flap. That didn’t seem too smart to me, as the open hole made it even easier to get in than before. But then a box appeared from which he lifted … a new cat flap. Another new cat flap!? You may recall we’ve already had several in my lifetime, each one bad news, but this one was a monstrous, white construction that smelled of new and clean, and of several other things I don’t like. It was the worst cat flap ever. Dad explained that it would only open for me and Tammy, not for the tortoiseshell – something to do with mice and chips?? It sounded very dodgy, and both Tammy and I remained sceptical. This new cat flap is too different from our comfortable old, brown one. It doesn’t feel right. It’s eerily silent and so spotless it hurts my eyes. Our dear old one had bits of our fur stuck to its soft lining and made a satisfying clunk when you jumped through it. The window was all lovely and smudged from our noses. It belonged to us, every inch of it. This one doesn’t, and that’s the sad truth. Tammy is refusing to use it; no surprises there. I’ve had to overcome my distaste and really push myself to go through, because my freedom is important to me, but once out I try not to come back in for ages.

The only good thing about all this is that the tortoiseshell really can’t get in now! I watched her only this morning, trying and trying to push the flap open, but it stayed firmly shut. So Dad was right – who’d have thought? It was such fun to watch her from the comfort of our kitchen! I guess we might get used to the new cat flap eventually. Meanwhile, I’m off for a snooze in my favourite box. And I still don’t get females.

Till the next time

Bilbo